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?"
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.
"Harry," she called out, her voice brisk but warm, "something urgent came up at the university. I need to head back for a bit. Don't touch the dishes; I'll clean them when I get back."
She was already halfway out the door before I could respond.
Alexa rarely worked overtime. She was efficient and meticulous, managing her time so she almost never had to be called in on weekends. As her hurried footsteps disappeared, an unsettling weight pressed on my chest.
I grabbed my coat and followed. While Alexa headed for the garage, I hailed a cab and parked discreetly at the curb.
"Please follow that car," I instructed the driver, my voice low.
The driver gave me a knowing look and nodded. "Don't worry, mister. I won't lose it."