The Promotion

Chapter Forty-Three

A few days slipped by in a blur, the kind where time lost its edges and everything seemed to happen at once. Life moved quickly, relentlessly, leaving me struggling to keep up.

In the space of three days, Alexander and I had packed up my entire life, sold my apartment, and shifted everything into his home. What should have felt overwhelming somehow felt... inevitable. Like my belongings had always belonged there, tucked neatly into his world.

Rebecca, however, was relentless.

My inbox flooded with emails—polite at first, then increasingly urgent—each one circling the same question I was avoiding: Had I decided whether I would give evidence at Charles' trial?

And then there was Sarah.

Or rather, the absence of her.

Since returning from Australia, she'd been distant. Replies were short. Plans were postponed. Conversations felt clipped, like she was somewhere else even when she was right in front of me. I told myself not to overthink it—but something in my chest tightened every time her name crossed my mind.

At work, I wasn't much better.

Meetings passed in fragments. Voices blurred together. I'd stare at the far wall or the city beyond the windows and feel myself drift—like my body was still seated at the table, but my mind had stepped out of it entirely. It was a strange, floating sensation, weightless and silent.

The only thing that ever brought me back was Alexander.

A hand brushing mine. His thumb pressing gently into my knuckles. A quiet "Hey" murmured close to my ear.

It grounded me every time.

By Thursday afternoon, my nerves were shot.

Tomorrow was the deadline. Rebecca needed an answer. And I still didn't have one.

I sat alone in the office, leg bouncing beneath the desk, fingers tapping an erratic rhythm against the wood. My chest felt tight, like my lungs couldn't quite expand fully.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," I said quickly, forcing myself upright.

Lily peeked inside. "Hi, Louisa. Sorry to interrupt."

"It's okay," I replied, offering a smile that felt a little brittle. "What's up?"

"Alexander left this for you." She handed me a folded piece of paper, then disappeared just as quickly as she'd arrived.

Only then did it register—Alexander wasn't here.

I unfolded the note.

There's a dress at home with your name on it.
Go home, try it on.
Meet me at the Italian Rooftop Restaurant.
I'll be waiting.

Love, A x

A soft laugh escaped me.

With Alexander, there was always an element of surprise. Not uncertainty—anticipation. Every day felt like he was quietly choosing me again, in ways both big and small.

The heaviness in my chest eased just a little.

I grabbed my bag and headed out.

⸻

When I reached the house, I went straight upstairs.

The dress lay across the bed like it had been placed there with reverence. Cream satin hugged the lining, topped with delicate mesh embroidered with floral patterns that caught the light. Long sheer sleeves cinched at the wrists, soft and romantic. It was elegant, effortless—so him.