Olivia’s POV

Alexander remained on his knees before me, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his face a portrait of brokenness. After I spoke, he rose slowly, wiping his face as if to reclaim some semblance of composure.

“It’s late,” he said with a heavy sigh. “You can use the bathroom if you need it.”

I nodded, standing and making my way to the bathroom. After a warm shower, I noticed a neatly folded pile of clothes left for me. They were Alexander’s—a large shirt and a ...