Signed In Secrets

Chapter 6

Amelia

Morning light streamed through the windows, casting a warm, golden glow over the breakfast table. Eleanor sat at the head, a cup of tea in her hand, her expression serene, and I sat across from her, my plate barely touched.

Ethan was already gone. I wasn't surprised—he left for work early each day, vanishing before breakfast like a ghost. It was preferable, I suppose. Less pretending. Less tension.

Eleanor, though, did not know what was going on beneath the surface. She chatted friendly-like, asking about my sleep and whether I was settling in. I responded as best I could, smiling falsely even as my mind raced.

I excused myself after breakfast for a walk, starving for air, space—anything to keep my mind from spiraling. I went a few blocks, letting the cool breeze cleanse my head, when a familiar voice stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Amelia?"

I turned, my stomach twisting.

Lisa, a co-worker at the bar, was there, her eyes open in surprise. She was still in her uniform, most probably on break. For half a second, I considered feigning not to have heard her, but it was too late—our eyes had already met.

"Hi, Lisa," I said to her, pretending a smile.

"Where have you been?" she would like to know. "I haven't seen you for weeks. Paul did not say you quit, so I thought—"

I tensed. "I, uh… got another job."

Lisa's eyebrows went up. "Oh, nice! Doing what?"

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. There wasn't an easy way to explain that I was now the wife of a man I barely knew, bound by a contract I hadn't known I was committing to.

"Just something different," I said vaguely.

Lisa's eyebrow shot up, but she didn't press the issue. "Well, good for you. Oh—how's Daniel? He just took off to chase his dreams. Huh?"

My chest tightened. I had no idea why the mention of his name still stung, but it did.

"Yeah," I muttered. "Guess he did."

Lisa's expression dropped, but before she could say anything else, her phone beeped. She glanced at the screen, then sighed. "Break's over. We should catch up sometime!"

I smiled weakly again as she walked away. But as I turned to gaze back at the house, a weight began to form in my chest.

Lisa was unaware that I'd lost my job, Daniel had disappeared, and the life I'd built had disintegrated so fast that I was still struggling to get my head around it.

And maybe that was the hardest thing.

That, and the doubt of whether I had any pieces to pick up in the first place.

I strolled back slowly, drawing in deep breaths, trying to loosen the residual heaviness of the conversation with Lisa. It should've been simple—just another run-in with someone from my past—but it wasn't.

Because it reminded me of everything that I had lost.

By the time I arrived at the house, I was worn out. The burden of my choices and everything that had happened in the previous few days weighed on me. I was still trying to get my mind around it all.

Inside, the house was quiet. I walked toward the library, a room I had been seeking refuge in over the past day or so. It was back on the second floor, with tall bookshelves and old, polished furniture that smelled slightly of cedar.

I had just settled into one of the armchairs when the door opened.

Eleanor.

She entered, "Ah, I thought I might find you here."

I straightened, offering a small smile. "Needed some quiet."

She murmured in understanding, crossing over to the couch across from me. "That's what I like about this room," she said, taking a seat. "Ethan would hide in here when he was younger. Always had his face in a book."

I tried to picture that—Ethan as a kid, lost in stories instead of boardrooms and deals. It didn't compute.

Eleanor studied me for a moment, her sharp eyes containing something unfathomable. "You're upset, dear."

I hesitated, then let out a small, breathy laugh. "That obvious, huh?"

"You don't have to tell me," she said gently. "But if you ever do, I'm here."

Her words brought a sting to my chest. Because if there was anyone in this house I wanted to be honest with, it was Eleanor. She'd been nice to me from the very beginning. But the truth wasn't mine to tell.

So I just nodded, offering her the best smile I could manage.

She didn't push. Instead, she nodded toward the bookshelves. "Do you like to read?"

"I did," I admitted. "Haven't had a lot of time for it lately."

"Then you should do something about that," she said with a knowing smile. "Sometimes a good book can explain things you can't verbalize."

Her words stayed with me long after she was gone.

Later that night, as I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, I found myself reaching for one of the books I had borrowed from the library.

My hand brushed against the worn spine, the scent of old pages filling the air.

I opened it, but the words blurred together.

Because no matter how hard I tried to get lost in someone else's story, I was still trapped in my own.

And I wasn’t sure how it would end.