Her words, so effortlessly sweet, brought a lump to my throat. Alexa had built her world around me—or so it seemed. Every little thing she did was deliberate, thoughtful. Because I once mentioned liking braised prawns, she made it a ritual to wake up early every weekend and visit the market for the freshest catch. The aroma of her cooking would awaken me, a comforting embrace that signaled the start of a perfect day.
But now, those gestures felt... suffocating. How could someone so attentive, so devoted, betray me?
The dining table was laden with an impressive spread: braised prawns, steamed fish, sautéed vegetables and a bowl of soup that was still gently steaming. As I sat down, Alexa didn't wait for me to start. She expertly peeled a prawn with her delicate fingers, placing the tender morsel on my plate. Her eyes sparkled with pride as she looked at me.
"Harry," she began, her tone light but hopeful, "the publisher scheduled a book signing for Confessions of Love next week. Will you come with me?"