Elise's POV
"Elise why are you with him?" Carter asked, voice heavy with sleep and suspicion.
She forced a smile and softness into her voice. "Nothing, we just ran into each other. I'm fine. Just… getting some air."
Carter stood there a moment longer, as if debating whether to believe her. Then he nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Come back to bed soon, okay?"
"Okay," she whispered.
He disappeared inside their room, the door clicking softly shut.
Elise exhaled, realizing only then how tightly she had been clutching the windowsill behind her. The wood dug into her palms, grounding her in reality—a reality that now felt dangerously unstable.
When she turned back, Alexander was still standing there.
Watching her.
Silent.
A storm behind those unreadable gray eyes.
"We can't," she said under her breath, the words slipping out before she could catch them.
"I know," he murmured.
And yet neither of them moved.
The distance between them was practically none existent as they stood a hair's breadth apart, the tension stretching tighter and tighter, a far stretched wire that could snap with one last pull.
Finally, Elise took a step back. "Goodnight, Alexander."
It sounded too formal, too forced.
But it was all she could muster.
She turned and practically fled down the hall, heart hammering like she'd just committed a crime. She slipped into bed beside Carter, careful not to brush against him, and stared at the ceiling until morning came in a fresh wave of guilt.
***
The next few days were excruciating.
Meals were filled with tension. Conversations with Carter were filled with half-answers and fake smiles. He was still wrapped up in meetings with Alexander, trying to patch the bleeding wounds of their broken finances, and Elise moved like a ghost around them like she didn't belong there.
She felt lonely in a way she hadn't realized was possible—even though Carter was still there.
Even though he kissed her forehead at night.
Even though he promised her, in mumbled apologies, that things would get better.
When?
How much more of yourself do you have to lose, Elise, before you realize he's already gone?
The house became a battleground itself—cold, dreadful and ancient. Whispering secrets she didn't want to hear.
Alexander didn't seek her out.
But somehow, their paths kept crossing.
In the library, as she trailed her fingers across the spines of books too expensive to touch.
In the garden, where she stood among the blooming roses and tried to remember what it felt like to be wanted.
And once—late at night—by the grand piano in the drawing room.
He was there, sitting quietly, his fingers brushing across the keys, playing a slow, haunting melody that made her chest ache.
When he saw her, he didn't stop.
He just kept playing, his eyes on her.
God help me, she thought, I don't want to move.
***
It was a Thursday when something happened.
Carter had been gone most of the day again, driving into the city under the excuse of "taking care of things." Elise wandered the halls of the house restlessly, desperate for a distraction, when she heard Alexander's voice from the study.
"…It was never about the money," he was saying, voice low and edged with bitterness. "It's about the choices he keeps making."
There was a pause.
A clink of a glass.
Then—
"And about the woman he'll lose if he's not careful."
Elise froze outside the door.
Was he talking about her?
No.
No, you're being ridiculous.
She turned quickly, her heartbeat thundering wildly in her chest as she walked outside..
The crisp Connecticut air bit at her cheeks, but she barely noticed.
She wandered down the back steps into the gardens, past the perfectly trimmed hedges, the neat rows of roses. She didn't know how long she walked.
All she knew was the sudden sound of footsteps behind her.
"Elise."
She turned too fast, breath catching in her throat.
Alexander stood there, hands tucked in the pockets of his dark coat, his hair ruffled slightly by the wind. For once, he didn't look composed.
He looked…wrecked.
"I'm sorry," he said roughly.
"For what?" she whispered, even though she knew.
"For making this harder."
She shook her head. "It's not your fault."
The lie tasted bitter.
They stood there, the space between them heavy and charged, until Alexander took a careful step forward.
"Elise." Her name on his lips was a prayer and a curse.
"Please don't," she whispered.
But she didn't move.
And neither did he.
Instead, he looked at her like she was something precious. Something breakable. And no one—no one—had looked at her like that in years.
"You're not happy," he said quietly.
Tears burned behind her eyes, unbidden and hot.
"You don't know anything about my marriage," she snapped, hating how her voice wobbled.
"You're right." He paused. "But I know what it looks like when someone is dying quietly inside."
A sob bubbled up in her throat, but she swallowed it down.
This couldn't happen.
It couldn't.
She turned to leave, but his hand—warm and strong—caught her wrist.
The contact burned.
"Elise," he said again, voice low and raw, "if you ever need someone to see you... to really see you... I'm right here."
The tears spilled over before she could stop them.
And God help her, for a split second, she believed him.
She turned and walked to the front of the house.
"Eli—"
"No, please." She said, voice breaking as she stood on the stone path staring at a man that she should have no feelings for and yet she did.
"Alex—" she heard the crunch of gravel under tires as a car pulled up in the driveway.
They both turned.
Carter was back.
And he wasn't alone.
A tall, beautiful woman stepped out of the passenger side, laughing as she tossed her hair over her shoulder.
Carter opened the door for her, smiling in a way Elise hadn't seen in months.
The woman's hand brushed his arm casually—too casually.
And just like that, something inside Elise broke.
"What the hell," she whispered.
Alexander's hand was still around her wrist.
And this time, she didn't pull away.