Straight to the very last page—hidden behind several blank ones.
There was only one photograph.
It was of him.
A photo he hadn’t even realized she had taken—back when they were still living together.
He was asleep, his head resting on her lap, completely unguarded. One hand lay loosely against her thigh, fingers relaxed. Mia had taken a selfie with him in the frame, capturing a moment he had never been aware of.
Mia’s face was only partially in the frame, her expression soft. A quiet, intimate moment frozen in time.
Underneath, written carefully in neat handwriting, were the words:
‘I think I’m in love with Alexander.’
Alexander went completely still.
The world around him seemed to pause.
His hand trembled, the album shaking slightly between his fingers. There was no feeling he had ever experienced in his life that compared to this one. It was overwhelming—crushing and breathtaking all at once—filling his chest until it hurt.
His stupor broke when he heard Mia’s voice drifting in from inside the house.
“I really don’t need it, Ellie. Keep it. I have so many things already. What am I going to do with all this?”
“Just take it,” Ellie insisted. “Trust me. You can wear it anytime. Wear it when you come to see me next time.”
The soft sound of fabric rustling followed, the quiet shuffle of movement nearby.
Alexander slid the album back into the bag and turned away, his movements quick and controlled. His heart was still racing uncontrollably, pounding hard against his ribs as he struggled to steady his breathing.
His chest burned, aching so fiercely it felt difficult to draw a full breath.
He stood there with his back to them, shoulders tense, jaw tight—forcing himself to regain control.
Mia and Ellie stepped down the stairs, coming to stand near Alexander.
“Wait,” Ellie said suddenly. “I forgot something. I have a really beautiful bangle—it’ll look great on you.”
“Ellie, I don’t need it,” Mia called after her, but Ellie had already darted upstairs toward her bedroom, her footsteps fading quickly until she disappeared from sight.
The moment they were alone, Alexander reached out and grabbed Mia’s hand.
Mia startled, her breath catching as he pulled her closer.
His heart was still racing wildly, echoing in his chest, and the faint heat of it pressed against her as he drew her in. His other hand slid to her waist, fingers brushing against the fabric of her dress.
His gaze locked onto hers—intense, searching.
He asked, his voice low and tight, eyes scanning her face with dangerous intensity, “Mia, did you fall in love with me?”
Mia’s body went rigid, shock flashing across her face. She stared at him as if she hadn’t heard him correctly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped, pushing hard against his chest. “Mr. Graves, let go of me.”
He didn’t.
“Answer me,” he said, his grip tightening just enough to keep her from pulling away.
