Page 24 of Corrupted Queen

Before Alexis took him away, Harry’s favorite game involved me zooming an airplane over his head while he tried to catch it like King Kong. I am pleased to see that he still enjoys it.

I stretch across and grab the plane, and Harry giggles happily as I float it over his head, dipping and diving while humming engine noises. His chubby fingers reach high into the sky, sometimes so close they skim along the belly of the plane, but never quite catching it.

It has been a long day and I am happy for the distraction. I hoped to see Alexis here but found Harry with the nanny, Jessica, instead. Ever since I told her the truth about her father, Alexis has been distant. That morning, after she crumpled in my arms and sobbed until she had no tears left, Alexis insisted on watching the video again, and then once more. I couldn’t understand why she would put herself through it again, and I can only surmise that she was hoping to desensitize herself somehow.

If that was the aim, it didn’t work.

It has been several days since then, and I have barely seen her. I know I did the right thing in telling her. I shouldn’t care that the truth upset her. I shouldn’t care about her at all. Yet I can’t help but stare at the door to her room and wonder if she is okay on the other side.

“Down!” Harry says.

I bring the plane into a nosedive, landing it in his lap. He laughs and grabs it from me, teetering to his feet and staggering around the room, making it fly himself. I watch, warmth radiating through me.

I am so relieved to have Harry back. He has brought sunshine back into my life in a time when I desperately need it.

Then I hear it.

At first the sound is hard to pick out over Harry’s exaggerated plane noises, so I slide closer to Alexis’ door. Sure enough, I catch the sound of Alexis’ sobs. The wretched noise is like a knife to my heart. I wonder how many times since seeing the video she has cried alone, mourning the beautiful lies that colored her world and kept her safe from the jagged truth. Her father was a despicable man. The only regret I have for removing him from this world is that my actions set off a chain reaction that ended with Alexis finding out that her father was in no way the man she thought him to be.

I look back at Harry, who has plopped down on his rear with the toy and pays me no mind, oblivious to his mother’s distress just through the door. I get up and go to the door, debating whether I should just leave it be.

On one hand, I’m still angry at Alexis. She violated my trust and stole my son from me.

On the other, I feel her pain as if it is my own for reasons I don’t fully understand.

I knock gently on the door and then glide it open. The crying stops abruptly.

The only light in the room emanates from the window, where the last strands of daylight glow on the horizon. I spy Alexis’ huddled form on the bed, and she hastily wipes her face on the back of her arm and clears her throat.

“Yeah?” she asks in a hoarse voice.

I lick my lip. “Are you hungry?”

She looks back at me with a vacant expression. Her blue eyes, that normally sparkle like the playful ocean waves under the bright sun, are dull. Lifeless. Her brown curls fall limp against her cheeks.

“I guess so,” Alexis answers.

I don’t know why the impulse grips me. I only know that I cannot stand her sadness anymore.

“Will you have dinner with me?” I ask.

Alexis takes a slow breath and nods. “Yeah. Sure.”

She lifts from the bed and walks to meet me at the doorway. I suppress the urge to hold her heart-shaped face in my hands and run my thumbs down her tear-stained cheeks. Her eyes are rimmed with red, her lips dry. Even so, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

“We should put Harry to bed,” Alexis suggests.

We walk into the nursery and Alexis lifts Harry to her, closing her eyes as she holds him tight to her chest. She rocks him slowly. He puckers his lips, eyelids fluttering closed, and I watch as the two of them get lost in their own little moment.

Alexis and I slip into a familiar routine as we get Harry ready for bed—bathing him, drying him, putting on a fresh diaper and wrangling him into a soft jersey onesie. We don’t speak. We don’t need to. We have done this enough times before that I know when to pass her the towel, and she knows when to turn on the mobile, and both of us know that the best part of the whole process is standing in the darkened room over Harry’s bed as he settles and drifts off to sleep.

“What do you want to eat?” I ask once we are in the hall. “I thought we could get something delivered.”

Alexis shrugs. “Whatever.”

We go to the living room, where we sit on the couch, and I pull out my phone and order. When I am done, I look up and see Alexis staring at me. Her cupid’s bow lips are pressed together in concentration, like she is trying to gain access to my mind.

“What are you doing?” I ask, cocking a brow.

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