Observing Mark's demeanor, Peter surmised the previous night had been eventful, teasing, "You look spent from last night. You should take it easy today."

"How could I be exhausted? As if I couldn't keep up with a young woman. I'm the furthest thing from tired."

Peter's gaze held a touch of wistful envy.

The three days leading to the weekend saw no rendezvous between Mark and Cecilia.

She was immersed in her professional life.

Gone were her days of idly awaiting him.

Similarly, Mark, preoccupied with corporate demands, couldn't devote his every moment to her, managing only to fetch her and the kids came Friday.

When Mark pulled into the Fowler residence, dusk had painted the sky; it was seven.

The evening unfurled in splendor.

The final wisps of cloud staged a breathtaking display.

Life thrummed within the Fowler home, the air alive with the commotion of family. Waylen and Cecilia present, children in Lively play.

Stepping from his car, Mark was greeted by the tantalizing aroma of a meal underway.

Little Alexis latched onto his legs, greeting, "Great uncle."

Mark affectionately ruffled her hair, lifting her into his arms.

Alexis had a knack for courting affection.

And Mark indulged her.

Once inside, Mark's attention would be irrevocably drawn to Edwin and Olivia, meaning Alexis had to seize her emotional connection with him while she could. It was an opportunity she wouldn't squander.

Mark remained oblivious to Alexis’ calculations.

They approached the porch.

Set off to one side was a diminutive table and chair, where Edwin was ensconced.