"Good morning," he says.
"Good morning," I reply.
He approaches my desk and places a glass in front of me.
"Coffee. Just the way you take it."
I look at the glass, then at him. And there's something in me that… hesitates. I don't reject the gesture, but I don't receive it the same way I did before.
"Thank you," I finally say. "You're very kind."
My assistant leaves, leaving us alone. I take the coffee, sipping it only a small amount more out of habit than need.
Alexander sits down across from me, relaxed.
"I was reading the newspapers," he says, as if it were just a casual comment. "Congratulations."
I look up at him.
"Thank you."
"Wow…" he continues. "You two look good together."
My pulse remains steady; there's no immediate reaction. I don't allow it. If I was afr
