"No… no," she replied, stepping slightly to the side. "Misery loves company."
A wry smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, as if humor might keep her from crumbling. "Who are you to Mary?"
"Alexander," he said, moving a step closer. "Mary was my stepsister."
"Ah," Eva nodded slowly. "I'm Eva. I was—"
"I know who you are," he said, cutting her off.
"From the pictures?" she asked, her mouth tightening.
"from the pictures."
For a second, she imagined what it must be like to meet someone for the first time when your face had once been plastered on every gossip site, lips locked with a friend in grainy stills, framed as the villain of a story you didn't write. People didn't meet her anymore—they met her scandal.
Eva looked away, her arms folding. "Of course."
They stood in silence for a minute. Eva tucked her hair behind her ear and shifted on her feet.
"Just so you know," she began, "that wasn't me in those pictures."
She didn't look at him at first. Her eyes stayed fixed on the grave as though Mary might rise from it and back her up.
Alex turned to her and studied her face. "I know," he said, calm and certain. Then, he added, "I mean…" His eyes traveled down her frame in one smooth glance. "Your body looks better than that."
Eva's head snapped toward him, her brow lifting in disbelief. She was caught between offense and a choked laugh. "Wow."
He shrugged with a cheeky grin. "Just saying. I have excellent eyesight."
"I don't know if I should thank you or call HR," she said.
They fell into another pocket of silence.
And then Eva chuckled. A short, dry laugh that surprised even her.
Alex's head tilted. "Something funny?"
"Ah…just random thoughts," she said, brushing a tear off her cheek even as she smiled. "A total stranger who has never seen me naked can tell it wasn't me in the pictures and my own husband couldn't."
She laughed again, louder this time. "Can you imagine that? He couldn't even be bothered to ask if it was real. Just saw the pictures and bounced."
"Maybe," Alex said, eyes narrowing thoughtfully, "he just wanted a reason to walk away."
Eva's smile faltered.
"If it were me, I'd have invited you both for a threesome."
Her face twisted in a slow, amused horror. "What—?"
He gave her a shameless grin. "I mean, I'm not saying it's practical. I'm just saying, I believe in creative solutions."
"You don't take anything seriously, do you?" she asked, half-laughing, half-suspicious, narrowing her eyes.
"No," he replied with zero hesitation. "I just have a sense of humour. And a high libido."
"Oh…kay…" Eva's words drew out. "That's a lot of information for a graveyard meet-cute."
"Honesty is my love language."
"Well, subtlety is mine," she said. "So…I'm gonna go."
She stepped back, adjusting her coat as she tried to extricate herself from this increasingly weird conversation.
"It was nice to meet you," she added sincerely. And it was. Even if he was insane. Especially because he was insane.
Alex nodded. "You too, Eva. Really."
"I'll walk you to your car," he offered, already taking a few steps as though assuming she'd say yes.
"I didn't come with one," Eva replied. She was still trying to decide whether this man was charming or just mildly unhinged.
"How about I drop you off? It's the least I can do. You are my sister's guest, after all," he said, gesturing with a small, respectful nod to Mary's tombstone.
Eva hesitated, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "I don't really know you."
"Take a picture of me, send it to your closest friend. Tell them you just got into a car with me. If you end up missing or dead, they can hunt me down. Make it dramatic. Say something like, 'His eyes are the last thing I saw.' It'll help with the media buzz."
Eva snorted despite herself. "Deal." She pulled out her phone, angled it quickly toward him, and snapped a photo while he gave a thumbs up and a wide, cheesy grin.
"Feel safer?" he asked, grinning.
"Not really," she replied flatly, texting the photo to Brian along with a message that read: Getting into a car with this lunatic. If I go missing, avenge me with style.
Alex chuckled and gestured gallantly. "Milady, your chariot awaits."
They walked side by side across the gravel path. Waiting by the curb was a sleek Mercedes with tinted windows and a silent, well-dressed driver already holding the door open.
Alex wasn't joking when he said she had a better body than those doctored pictures had shown. He'd seen some other real pictures of her but what he hadn't expected, standing beside her now, was how little they captured the real her. The grace. The sharpness in her eyes. The way she moved.
She wasn't just attractive. She was magnetic.
Her waist was impossibly small, her hips perfectly curved, and her posture had the natural elegance of someone who never slouched under pressure. She was the type of woman you didn't flirt with lightly.
As she climbed into the car, Alex caught himself staring.
"Take a picture," Eva said dryly, "it'll last longer."
"Already did," he shot back, sliding in beside her. "I'm framing it in my brain gallery."
The car pulled away from the cemetery and silence fell between them again.
She sat with her hands clasped tightly between her thighs. Her gaze was fixed out the window, watching the city blur past in a parade of gray buildings and fleeting pedestrians.
"What are your plans for the future? You know, as a disgraced ex-media personality. I don't see a job in your future."
Her head whipped toward him. "Wow… thanks."
Alex shrugged, clearly unbothered by the sting in her tone. "I'm sorry I'm being blunt. I just… I'm curious. I mean, you're smart, you're scrappy, you've got… I don't know, fight in your eyes. But let's be honest—cancel culture didn't just cancel you. It deleted you."