The next three days passed in a haze of forced normalcy and suffocating tension.
Alexander watched me constantly. He canceled his meetings, stayed on the island, and made sure I was never alone for long. The children sensed something was wrong — they clung to me more, asking why Mommy looked sad.
I smiled for them. But inside, I was breaking.
Every night he took me — slow and deep because of the pregnancy, but no less possessive. He would hold me afterward, stroking my belly and whispering how much he loved our family, how he would do anything to protect it.
I let him. My body still craved him. But my mind was screaming.
On the fourth morning, I found the courage to speak while we were having breakfast on the terrace.
“I want to go back to the mainland for a while,” I said quietly, n
