Her response was always the same: "Harry is my everything."
That memory made me hesitate. "Since you've already promised the publisher, it wouldn't look good to back out," I said, my voice softer now.
But Alexa reached across the table, taking my hand in hers. Her eyes shimmered with sincerity. "Harry, nothing is more important than you."
In the end, I reluctantly agreed to go.
***
After dinner, while Alexa was tidying up the dishes, I found my thoughts drifting back to the photo. An uneasy itch grew in the back of my mind. I slipped away to the study, quietly opening the drawer where Alexa had placed the book earlier. My hands trembled as I flipped through the pages.
The photo was gone.
Before I could process the implications, I heard a phone ringing downstairs. I crept to the landing, peering down as Alexa answered. Her voice was hushed, her tone sharp.
"I told you not to contact me on weekends. I'm spending time with my husband."
A moment later, her demeanor shifted. Her eyes darted to the stairs and after confirming I wasn't around, she quickly dried her hands, grabbed her coat and threw it over her shoulders.