Alex slid his eyes closed, a soft sigh escaping him as he sipped his coffee and twisted the blinds shut so no prying eyes could snap an unwanted photo of him. The whirlwind events of the past few days had meant a host of media camped outside his Hamptons home, some of them even wandering down to the beach in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the couple who had been the talk of the town and beyond.
His home used to be a sanctuary, but that had been before the media descended like vultures. The walls were a soothing shade of cream, with large windows that let in the soft morning light, offering a breathtaking view of the ocean beyond. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was a constant, calming backdrop, a reminder of the world outside their bubble of chaos.
Alex glanced out at the pool, its surface shimmering under the early sun. It was a stark contrast to the turmoil inside him—a beautiful, serene scene that belied the storm brewing in their lives. The house had always been their peaceful escape. Now, it felt more like a fortress under siege, with reporters lurking around every corner, waiting to pounce.
Ava’s surprise visit to her own funeral had sent tongues wagging and thrust them into the middle of the media spotlight as questions he didn’t want to answer were constantly tossed their way.
He couldn’t shake the image of Ava standing there, alive and well, as the mourners gasped in shock. He had been overwhelmed with relief, but underneath that relief was a gnawing fear that hadn’t left him since. She had come so close to being taken from him for good, and the thought haunted him in every quiet moment.
