Chapter 3 Who Was My Wife?
925 Words
Morning sunlight streamed across Damien Blackwood’s office.
His laptop displayed a quarterly financial report.
Unread.
The navy notebook rested beside it.
Opened.
His eyes remained fixed on the last sentence Evelyn had written.
Tomorrow…
You’ll discover the first dream I never dared to share with you.
He read it again.
And again.
For three years…
Evelyn had rarely spoken about herself.
She asked about his meetings.
His flights.
His meals.
His grandmother.
Never once…
Had she asked him to look at her dreams.
By eleven o’clock, Damien canceled his afternoon schedule.
Lucas looked genuinely surprised.
“The board meeting?”
“Reschedule it.”
“You have investors flying in from London.”
“They can wait.”
Lucas hesitated.
That wasn’t like Damien.
Work had always come first.
Always.
“What are you going home for?”
Damien picked up the notebook.
“…To find out who my wife was.”
The Blackwood mansion stood exactly as Evelyn had left it.
Too neat.
Too quiet.
He walked upstairs and stopped outside a room whose door had always remained closed.
He had called it Evelyn’s hobby room.
Now…
For the first time…
He noticed the brass nameplate mounted beside the door.
Studio
He couldn’t remember ever reading it before.
The notebook lay open in his hand.
Item No. 3
The third drawer of my desk holds the dreams
I never found the courage to show you.
Maybe… you’ll understand now.
Dreams.
Not things.
The single word settled heavily in his chest.
He walked toward the drafting desk.
The third drawer was locked.
A keypad blinked quietly beneath the handle.
He entered today’s date.
Wrong.
Their wedding anniversary.
Wrong.
He frowned.
Then typed his own birthday.
The lock clicked open.
His breathing slowed.
Even here…
She had chosen his birthday.
Not hers.
Inside were no letters.
No jewelry.
No photographs.
Only carefully arranged portfolios.
Each one labeled with the same initials.
E.H.
He opened the first folder.
The sketches were breathtaking.
Every gemstone.
Every metal.
Every curve.
Drawn with astonishing precision.
Professional.
Elegant.
Alive.
He turned another page.
And another.
Until a certificate slipped onto the floor.
International Jewelry Design Awards
Finalist
His eyes narrowed.
He reached for another envelope.
Paris.
Milan.
New York.
London.
Invitation after invitation.
Every one of them accepted…
Then crossed out.
Attached to each file was the same final email.
I have decided to withdraw.
Thank you for believing in my work.
I’ve chosen my family.
Nothing else.
No complaint.
No explanation.
Only a quiet goodbye…
To a future she had once fought for.
Damien lowered the papers slowly.
He searched his memory.
Three years ago…
He had been negotiating an overseas acquisition.
He remembered complaining that Evelyn seemed distracted.
He never asked why.
Folded beneath the last portfolio was an old birthday card.
The envelope had never been opened.
Across the front…
In Evelyn’s handwriting:
For Damien
Inside was only one sentence.
I hope one day…
You’ll ask me what I dream about.
No date.
No signature.
Only silence.
Damien stared at the card.
His fingers tightened.
For reasons he couldn’t explain…
He couldn’t bring himself to put it back.
Across the city…
The weekly executive meeting at Aurora Jewelry had already begun.
A senior director stood before the conference table.
“Our Paris launch should be delayed.”
“The investors aren’t convinced.”
Murmurs spread around the room.
Every eye turned toward the woman seated at the head of the table.
Evelyn Hart.
She closed the proposal without looking flustered.
“Why?”
The director hesitated.
“The risk is too high.”
She nodded once.
“Then show me the numbers.”
Silence.
No one spoke.
She waited.
Patiently.
Calmly.
Finally…
The director lowered his eyes.
“I don’t have them yet.”
Evelyn closed the file.
“When you bring me evidence…”
“I’ll reconsider.”
“Until then…”
“The launch stays on schedule.”
No raised voice.
No anger.
Just certainty.
The discussion ended immediately.
As the meeting continued, the young intern sitting near the door secretly let out a breath of relief.
Everyone in the company knew.
President Hart never won arguments by speaking the loudest.
She won…
Because she was always the most prepared.
Back at the mansion…
Damien reached the bottom of the drawer.
One final magazine lay hidden underneath everything else.
Across the cover stood three large letters.
E.H.
Below them…
A headline.
The Jewelry Designer Who Suddenly Disappeared
Damien frowned.
“E.H…”
The initials echoed strangely in his mind.
His phone rang.
Lucas.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
“But one of our clients asked something unusual.”
“What?”
“They wanted to know whether Blackwood Group has ever worked with…”
Lucas paused.
“…Designer E.H.”
Damien looked down at the magazine again.
“…Who is E.H.?”
A brief silence.
Then Lucas answered.
“You’ve seriously never heard of them?”
“No.”
“They disappeared three years ago.”
“No one knows why.”
The call ended.
Damien remained standing in the quiet studio.
Surrounded by the dreams…
He had never noticed.
Across the city…
The Aurora meeting came to an end.
An assistant approached Evelyn.
“President Hart.”
“Blackwood Group has requested a meeting for next week.”
Evelyn looked out through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
After a long pause…
She answered quietly.
“Decline it.”
The assistant nodded.
“Understood.”
Evelyn lowered her eyes.
For the first time in years…
She chose herself.
- Writer
