Confessions of Love—the book she'd poured her soul into, chronicling our ten-year journey together. It wasn't just a bestseller; it was a symbol of our love story, immortalized in ink. Alexa usually insisted I attend every signing event, but this time, the thought of smiling and pretending everything was perfect felt unbearable.
I forced myself to take a bite of the food, but it tasted like ash in my mouth. Without looking at her, I muttered, "I've been really tired lately. I think I'll skip it."
The silence that followed was heavy. Then, Alexa's voice broke through, as gentle as ever. "Alright. Then I won't go either. I'll stay home and rest with you."
That caught me off guard. I looked up at her and for a moment, her unwavering love and devotion felt real again. Over the years, Alexa had always been fiercely protective of our time together. She avoided going out alone and when she had to, she tried to bring me along. If I couldn't accompany her, she'd cancel whatever plans she could.
People often teased her about it. "He's just your husband—what's the big deal?" they'd say. Or, "Harry's nothing special. Why are you so obsessed?"