I stayed where I was, my arms crossed, studying her as if seeing her for the first time. For six years, Alexa had devoted herself to me—or so I'd thought. Every weekend, she would give our housekeeper a day off and personally cook for me, saying it was her way of showing love. Her care, her attentiveness, her unwavering loyalty—they were all a part of the Alexa I knew.

As I watched Alexa bustling around the kitchen, a twinge of guilt tugged at me. I leaned against the doorframe and said, "You don't have to work so hard, you know."

She glanced at me with a playful smile and tapped my nose with her flour-dusted fingers. "Cooking for my darling? That's not work—it's love."

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?"

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."