Alexander's POV
The weight of guilt had been a constant companion for months ever since I regained my memories. It was a heavy burden, one I hadn't hesitated to carry because the events of the past months had happened thanks to my memory loss. Today, finally, I was standing at Ava's gravesite, a physical manifestation of my journey toward taking accountability for my actions.
I knelt, placing a bouquet of lilies on the weathered stone. Her picture, smiling serenely back at me, was a poignant reminder of the woman I'd lost, the woman I'd failed to protect, the woman that I'd forgotten. I should have come sooner. Shame burned in my chest as I realized the depth of my cowardice. Fear had paralyzed me, a prisoner of my own guilt. It was therapy, those grueling sessions of confronting my demons, that had slowly chipped away at the walls I'd built around myself and made me understand that running away was only letting the wounds on my heart fester.