THE LADY IN MY WEDDING PICTURE

CHAPTER3

CHAPTER THREE

THE ROOM HE KEPT LOCKED

“Forget what?”

My voice sounded smaller than I wanted it to.

Adrian stood in the doorway, staring at me.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then he looked at the photograph in my hand.

“Go to sleep, Elena.”

I almost couldn’t believe what I’d heard.

“Are you serious?”

“You’ve had too much to deal with tonight.”

“You just told me Evelyn knew I would forget something.”

“I said enough.”

“No. You didn’t.”

I stepped toward him.

“You told me she knew I would forget. You told me she knew something was going to happen. And now you’re telling me to go to sleep?”

His jaw tightened.

“Some things aren’t meant to be remembered.”

“That’s convenient.”

His eyes hardened.

“Be careful.”

I laughed bitterly.

“Of what? My own husband?”

He flinched.

It was barely noticeable, but I saw it.

Then he turned and walked away.

I watched him disappear down the hallway.

Something inside me finally broke.

I wasn’t going to ask him anymore.

I was going to find the answers myself.

At three in the morning, I was standing in front of a door I’d never been allowed to open.

It was at the end of the hallway, away from the bedrooms and the living room.

A simple black door.

I’d asked about it once when we’d first moved into the penthouse.

Adrian had simply said, “It’s private.”

I’d never questioned him again.

Until tonight.

I looked down the hallway.

The penthouse was silent.

Adrian was asleep.

Or at least I hoped he was.

I took the spare key from the small drawer beside the console.

My hand trembled as I inserted it into the lock.

Click.

The door opened.

Cold air brushed my face.

I stepped inside.

The room was darker than I expected.

I reached for the light.

Nothing.

I tried again.

Still nothing.

My phone flashlight illuminated the room.

And I froze.

Photographs covered the walls.

Dozens of them.

Maybe hundreds.

Adrian.

Evelyn.

Different places.

Different years.

Different smiles.

My stomach twisted.

I walked closer.

There was one of Evelyn standing on a beach.

Another of her sitting at a restaurant.

Another of her laughing beside Adrian.

They looked happy.

Not like strangers.

Not like two people who had simply shared a marriage.

They looked in love.

I swallowed hard.

Then I saw a photograph that made my blood run cold.

Evelyn was standing beside someone.

Me.

I stepped closer.

It was definitely me.

I was younger, but there was no mistaking my face.

My arm was wrapped around Evelyn’s waist.

We were both smiling.

I touched the photograph with trembling fingers.

“How?”

The memory came suddenly.

Sunlight.

A garden.

Evelyn laughing.

“Promise me.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Another flash.

My hand holding hers.

“I’m scared.”

My own voice.

“You don’t have to be.”

Then the memory disappeared.

I opened my eyes.

My breathing was uneven.

Why couldn’t I remember her?

Why did my body recognize her when my mind didn’t?

I moved to the desk.

There were several folders stacked neatly on top.

One had my name written on it.

ELENA CROSS.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I opened it.

Medical records.

Hospital reports.

Photographs.

Dates.

I scanned the first page.

Patient: Elena Cross.

Date admitted: October 15, 2021.

My fingers went numb.

October 15.

One day after the photograph.

I turned the page.

Diagnosis: Traumatic brain injury.

I stopped breathing.

I couldn’t remember being in a hospital.

I couldn’t remember any accident.

I couldn’t remember October 2021 at all.

A sound behind me made me jump.

I spun around.

Nothing.

The door was still closed.

I turned back to the desk.

There was another folder beneath mine.

I pulled it out.

EVELYN HART.

I opened it.

The first page was almost empty.

Name.

Date of birth.

A photograph.

Then—

Status: Missing.

I turned the page.

The next document had been torn in half.

Only one sentence remained.

Last known location: The Vale Lakeside Estate.

I stared at the words.

The lakeside estate.

Adrian’s private property.

I had never been there.

At least, I didn’t think I had.

I reached for another photograph.

It showed the estate.

A large white house surrounded by trees.

I turned it over.

A handwritten message was scrawled across the back.

She remembers the house.

My heart stopped.

Suddenly, the room felt too small.

I dropped the photograph.

A noise came from outside.

Footsteps.

Someone was walking toward the room.

I quickly switched off my phone flashlight.

The footsteps stopped outside the door.

My breathing became shallow.

The handle moved.

I backed away.

The door opened slightly.

Light from the hallway spilled across the floor.

“Who’s there?”

Adrian’s voice.

I almost collapsed with relief.

Then I looked at the folder still clutched in my hand.

I couldn’t let him know what I’d found.

Not yet.

I shoved the folder beneath my sweater and stepped out of the room.

Adrian stood in the hallway.

His eyes moved from me to the open door behind me.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then his gaze dropped to my hands.

“What are you doing in here?”

I forced myself to stay calm.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

His expression darkened.

“You know you’re not allowed in this room.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you come in?”

I looked directly into his eyes.

“Because you wouldn’t tell me the truth.”

He stepped closer.

“Give me what you took.”

My heart raced.

“How do you know I took something?”

He said nothing.

I smiled sadly.

“Because you already knew what was inside this room.”

His eyes hardened.

“Go back to bed, Elena.”

I walked past him.

But before I reached the bedroom, he spoke.

“Whatever you found in there…”

I stopped.

His voice was quiet.

“…you don’t want to know the rest.”

I turned around.

“That’s the problem, Adrian.”

I pulled the hidden folder from beneath my sweater.

“I think I do.”

His face went completely white.

Because he recognized it.

My medical file.

And suddenly, I realized my husband hadn’t just been hiding Evelyn from me.

He had been hiding what happened to me.