He clenched his jaw, willing his voice not to rise again, not to give her another reason to shut down. He had to be steady. Had to be strong. For her. He felt like the floor had given way beneath both of them.
If Charlotte was scared, truly scared, then this wasn’t just serious. It was personal. And dangerous. And maybe already too far gone.
She was silent.
Alex looked down at the Polaroid again, at the younger version of the woman sitting across from him. He wanted to demand answers. He wanted to shake the truth out of her. But more than anything, he wanted to keep her safe. His voice came out louder than he intended. "I care about you, Charlotte. I love you."
Her fingers tightened around the coffee mug again.
His heart beat a little harder. "You know that, don’t you?"
She exhaled slowly. "Alex."
He pushed the Polaroid back toward her, holding her gaze. "I’m not walking away," he said. "But I need you to meet me halfway."
She nodded, but something in her eyes told him she wasn’t sure if she could.
His jaw flexed as he stood, pushing the chair back. "I can't help you fix this if you won’t let me in," Alex said, his voice low. "Whatever this is... it’s already inside your door. And I’m still standing outside."
Charlotte glanced back down at the photo. "No.”
Alex stayed quiet for a long beat, his jaw working, fingers drumming once against the edge of the table before curling into a fist. “If you won’t let me in,” he said finally, his voice low but firm, “then at least do the right thing.”
Charlotte looked up, eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, call the police,” he said. “Report the break-in. The drugging. The photo. All of it.”
Her expression hardened. “And tell them what? That someone left a thirty-year-old memory on my nightstand and walked through my house without a trace?”
“Yes,” he said, leaning in. “Exactly that. Because someone did. And whether or not you’re ready to talk to me, they still need to know. You don’t get to brush this off because it’s inconvenient or because it points somewhere you don’t want to go.”
Her silence said enough.
Alex exhaled, sitting back, trying not to let the fear come out as anger. “I love you, Charlotte. But I can’t stand by and watch you ignore the kind of threat that stands over your bed while you sleep.”
She looked away.
Three
Charlotte barely hadtime to process Alex’s words before the sound of tires crunching over gravel reached her ears. She tensed, instinctively putting the Polaroid and knife away in a breakfront drawer as she turned toward the window.
Alex followed her gaze.
A red Waverly Junction Fire Department SUV pulled into the driveway, parking behind Alex’s car. The driver’s side door opened, and Olivia, her oldest daughter, stepped out, already moving with purpose, followed by her fiancé, Fire Captain Jackson Reynolds.
Charlotte swore under her breath.
Alex shot her a look. “You expecting them?”
“No.” She exhaled sharply, pressing her palms against the table before standing. “But that’s never stopped Liv before.” Charlotte didn’t have the energy for whatever this was about.
Alex leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, watching the door. “You want me to stay?”
Charlotte hesitated.
His brow arched. His smirk was slight, but there was a challenge behind it. “You thinking about hiding the break-in from your daughter?”
She shot him a look. “You have no idea what you’ve walked into.”
