Page 62 of Steel Beauty

Dr. Whitfield smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Fair point, but it’s still worth trying. Sometimes people don’t realize how much pressure they’re putting on you until you let them know.”

He gives me a moment to absorb that.

“And as for your injury, finding closure might open up new paths you haven’t considered yet. Whether it’s a conversation, an outlet, or something else—it could be the key to moving forward.”

Moving forward.That’s what I need, isn’t it? Not just for my family, or my career, but for myself.

Dr. Whitfield closes his notebook, signaling the end of today’s session. “You’re making progress, Alex. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it.”

We exchange a brief handshake as I rise to leave, his words still echoing in my mind.Moving forward.It’s not a solution, but maybe, for now, it’s enough.

“Just remember, Alex, healing is a process. It takes time. And it’s okay to ask for help along the way.”

I leave the office feeling lighter. My thoughts are still spinning, but the tight knot in my chest feels a little looser, like I can finally catch my breath.

As I step into the hallway, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

Hey big guy! How’s your day going?

A small smile spreads across my face. For the first time in a long time, things don’t feel so heavy, so hopeless. Maybe—just maybe—things will be okay after all.

I start typing a response, my fingers hovering over the screen longer than they should. Then, with a quiet sigh, I give in and switch to voice dictation, the way I prefer to send texts.

Hey, favorite. My day’s been great. Better now actually. Any chance you can slip away from your coworkers for the whole weekend? I have somewhere I want to take you.

Hmm. Give me a little time to come up with something. I think I can pull it off. Where are we going?

It’s a surprise.

There’s a beat of silence before her next message pops up.

A mystery, huh? I like it. Sounds exciting, big guy.

It will be. Promise.

I tuck my phone back into my pocket, that smile still playing on my lips. For the first time in a while, I feel like I have something to look forward to.

Chapter15

Alex Sebring

A light sweater,Bermuda shorts, a ball cap, and dark sunglasses—practical enough to blend in yet casual enough to keep things low-key.

It’s been quiet lately—no sneaky photos, no reporters lurking—but experience has taught me the hard lesson of never becoming too comfortable. All it takes is one sleazy photographer with a long lens to turn a private moment into tabloid material.

Celeste thrived on the chaos. She fed off every flash, every candid shot sold to the highest bidder. The attention was her lifeblood.

The memory still churns in my gut, a bitter reminder of how I let her pull me into that circus—a circus she seemed to relish creating. It wasn’t just the cameras; it was the way she turned small moments into full-blown dramas, escalating everything into a public spectacle and drawing even more attention to us.

Celeste has occupied more than her fair share of my headspace, and I won’t let her take any more. This weekend is about spending time with Charleston. Work has been hectic, and it’s time to kick-start the getaway I’ve been looking forward to all week. Friday evening to Sunday night. No plans, no distractions. Just us taking it easy and letting the world fade away for a while.

I told Charleston to keep it simple—low-key clothes, nothing flashy that might draw attention. A weekender bag with a couple of swimsuits, enough for a weekend on the water, and one outfit for a date. That’s it.

Leaning casually against my Jeep, I glance toward the hotel doors, waiting. When they slide open and she steps out, it’s like the air shifts.

For a second, my breath catches.

Damn.

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