The Promotion

Chapter Sixty

A few days had passed since I received the photographs.

I still hadn't told Alexander.

The images lived quietly in my bag, tucked away like a secret I pretended didn't exist, yet they haunted me relentlessly. Some moments, I convinced myself I didn't need to say anything at all. When Alexander wrapped his arms around me at night, when he pressed a kiss to my temple and whispered how much he loved me, the doubt loosened its grip. That was the Alexander I trusted—the man who made me feel safe, chosen, cherished.

But then there were other moments.

Moments when he was late. When his phone buzzed and he stepped away to answer it. When silence stretched just a second too long.

And that tiny voice returned.

What if he's with her?

I hated myself for thinking it. I hated that Lucinda's poison had taken root in my mind despite everything Alexander had shown me. I kept telling myself there had to be an explanation for those photos. I would ask him. I would be brave. I would trust him.

That morning, soft wind slipped through the half-open window, carrying the sound of distant birds. I stretched lazily, reaching for Alexander out of habit—

—and found the other side of the bed empty.

My eyes flew open.

We always woke up together.

I checked the clock above the door and bolted upright when I saw the time. It was just past ten. Panic flickered through me. Had I overslept? Why hadn't he woken me?

I reached for my phone, only to notice a folded note resting on top of it.

My chest tightened as I opened it.

I've noticed you've been stressed and exhausted lately. Have a lie-in. Take your time. Come to the office when you're ready.

Love A x

Emotion swelled in my chest, sharp and warm all at once. I pressed the note to my heart, swallowing hard.

I was being ridiculous.

This man adored me. Truly, deeply. And here I was allowing shadows to distort something real and beautiful. I promised myself I would tell him about the photos—honestly, calmly—and we would deal with it together.

⸻

Before heading to the office, I stopped at Jo's café, craving the comfort of a caramel latte. The place buzzed softly with morning chatter. A new staff member handed me my drink, the lid slightly loose, coffee already seeping out.

The bell above the café door chimed softly as I steadied the cup in my hands, the warmth seeping into my palms. I had barely taken two steps when I collided with someone solid.

The coffee jolted dangerously.

"Sh—" I started, instinctively apologising, until a familiar voice cut through.

"Louisa?"

I looked up.

Calum.

For a split second, my body stiffened on instinct alone. Not fear—just memory. Old reflexes from a life I'd already outgrown.

"Wow," I laughed breathlessly, glancing down at the coffee that had splashed against the lid. "Guess I should've watched where I was going."

He handed me a tissue immediately, brows drawn together with concern. "I'm really sorry. That's on me. I was rushing."