She picked it up and saw Allen’s name on the screen.
Allen:
Hello Mrs. Graves. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I was worried. Did Mr. Graves come to you? The hospital said he self-discharged when I arrived.
Mia’s thumb hovered over the screen for a second before she typed a single word.
Yes.
The reply came instantly.
Allen:
Thank God. I was really worried.
Another message followed right away.
Allen:
Please take care of him tonight. Today is the day Mr. Graves found out you married Mr. Sinclair. Every year on this day, he becomes extremely disturbed. I can’t fully explain it, but please trust me—mentally, he’s really not well today.
Mia stared at the screen.
Her fingers tightened around the phone, grip firm enough that the edges pressed into her skin. Something twisted quietly in her chest—unease, guilt, worry—layered so tightly she couldn’t separate them.
After a moment, she placed the phone back on the counter.
For a moment, she stood there, unmoving, staring at the door like it might bite back. Then she turned around and walked toward it.
She opened the door and pulled it wide.
Alexander, who had been leaning against the wall without a word, straightened immediately. The instant his eyes landed on her, something lit up in his face—a bright, almost boyish smile spreading so suddenly and genuinely that it caught her off guard. It didn’t belong to a powerful CEO or an injured man who had walked out of a hospital against medical advice.
It belonged to someone relieved.
Before she could say anything—before she could even think—he stepped inside, moving quickly, almost urgently, like he was afraid she might change her mind if he hesitated for even a second.
The door closed behind him.
His gaze lifted and slowly swept across the apartment with quiet curiosity.
It was small.
There wasn’t much furniture—just the basics she had managed to arrange. A modest couch. A narrow counter. Clean surfaces. Nothing extravagant. Nothing excessive.
Yet it already smelled like her.
That familiar scent wrapped around him instantly, sinking deep into his chest, and a wave of relief crashed over Alexander so hard it nearly weakened his knees. For the first time all day—maybe longer—his breathing eased slightly.
For a fleeting second, the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her tight surged violently through him.
He clenched his jaw and forced himself to stay where he was, fingers curling slightly at his sides as he wrestled the instinct down with sheer will.
There was a small living room, a compact kitchen, and one bedroom.
As Mia stepped inside after him, Alexander turned to her immediately, the smile still lingering on his lips.
“Did you have dinner yet?” he asked quickly. “I can make something for you. Are you hungry?”
