Alex chuckled. "Stalker."
"Worried friend," she corrected, then added, "Stark's people said you got a settlement?"
"Yeah, enough to not worry about student loans ever again," he said with a small smirk, dodging the full truth.
Emily nodded, stirring the pan. "I guess there are worse people to owe money to."
He raised a brow. "You work for him, don't you?"
Alex's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "So… a team that works on upgrading old tech?"
"Yes," she admitted, stirring the sauce again. "Mostly old Stark prototypes—stuff that never made it past testing. A few military contracts, industrial scraps, even old Howard Stark-era blueprints. We repurpose what we can."
"I guess that means you got a good package with the job, huh?" he said, shooting her a small smirk.
Emily nodded, smiling a bit as she continued to cook. "Yeah. Not Stark-level money, obviously, but enough to move out, pay off my car, and stop living off ramen and coffee." She chuckled softly. "And honestly? Just being around real tech—tech that means something—is worth it."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you're living the dream."
"I guess I am," she replied, though her voice dropped just slightly in tone—like there was a hint of something unspoken. "Still doesn't feel real most days."
Alex didn't push. He could tell there was more to that sentence, but he also wasn't sure if he wanted to pry—not yet.
Instead, he just said, "Well, good. Someone from our class should end up on top."
She glanced at him, surprised, then smiled again—genuinely this time. "What about you, Alex? What's next for you? Or are you just gonna live the rich recluse life out here in the woods?"
That question lingered again.
What was next?
"For now, yeah… I don't really have a goal," Alex admitted, voice low and a little distant. "I feel… lost. I don't have my past. My memories are gone. Even what I know about you—I only found out from my phone."
Emily paused, the spoon in her hand hovering mid-stir. "You don't remember anything?" she asked gently.
"Only that we spent a steamy night together," he said with a small, crooked smile. "So I figured we must've been in a relationship."
His hand reached out, brushing a strand of damp hair from her cheek and resting lightly against her neck, just under her jaw. His gaze held hers, steady and unreadable. "I'm lucky to have such a beautiful girlfriend, even if I don't remember her."
Emily flushed, blinking quickly as her breath caught in her throat. "A-Alex…"
He tilted his head slightly. "Did I misread that?"
She hesitated, looking torn for a moment—then smiled shyly. "No. You didn't. And yes… we're in a relationship."
Alex's mind ticked behind his calm expression. So I was right… she is into me. Not bad.
Just then, the soft chime of the stove pulled them both back to reality.
"The food's ready," Emily said with a nervous little laugh, brushing past him to grab plates.
They sat down together at the small table, the quiet hum of the kitchen filling the silence between bites. And while Alex played the role of the lost boyfriend with charm and grace, part of him was still watching her—studying, calculating.
Although he was deceiving her, Alex didn't feel guilty.
Who said he had to be the good guy?
Good guys get sent to heaven.
Bad guys live like kings on Earth.
And Alex—he was selfish. He always had been. He only moved for himself. That hadn't changed.
But Emily... she was different.
She had shown him genuine care when he was broken, when he had nothing...Although all of this is fake acting. She made him feel like a person again, not a case file or a freak accident. That counted for something—even to someone like him.
And because of that, whether he admitted it or not, something inside him had decided: no one else could have her. She was his now.
He watched her from across the table, admiring the faint blush on her face as she laughed at something he said. Her eyes sparkled, and the way she ducked her head shyly made his chest tighten in a way he hadn't expected.
She's really cute, he thought as he ate.
Emily, meanwhile, was stealing glances at him between bites. There had always been something about Alex that intrigued her—even back before the accident. A quiet edge, a sharp mind hiding behind a laid-back mask. But now… he was different. Ever since the accident, there was a cool confidence in his eyes, a darker charm in the way he moved and spoke.
This wasn't the same Alex she'd known in school.
This Alex was bold. Direct. He made her feel wanted—not just liked.
And the truth was… she liked this version more.
Dinner ended with quiet laughter and the clink of dishes being cleared. Emily stood up, collecting the plates, but Alex stopped her with a soft hand on hers.
"I'll get those later," he said, voice calm. "You've already come all this way in the rain. Just relax."
Emily hesitated but nodded, letting him take the plates to the sink. She walked over to the living room, where the modest couch sat facing a wall-mounted screen and a small shelf of books and tools. She sat down, glancing at the space around her.
"It's… cozy," she said, brushing damp strands of hair behind her ear. "Not what I expected from a man with millions in the bank."
Alex gave a low chuckle as he walked over, drying his hands with the same towel. "I didn't want a mansion. I wanted silence. Distance. Space to think."
He joined her on the couch, sitting just close enough that their arms nearly touched.
Emily turned her head slightly. "And? Have you figured anything out in all this space?"
Alex didn't answer immediately. He leaned back, letting his gaze drift to the ceiling.
"Only that I'm not who I used to be."
She looked at him, eyes soft. "That's not always a bad thing."
He turned to her then, slowly. Their eyes locked—just for a moment—but it was enough. That moment held the weight of unspoken confessions, buried desires, and things neither of them fully understood yet.
"…You don't have to stay," he said, voice quieter now. "But I won't ask you to leave either."
Emily blinked, lips parting slightly, caught off guard by the gravity in his tone.