Chapter 2 The First Morning Without Her
915 Words
Damien Blackwood woke before dawn.
Without opening his eyes, he reached toward the other side of the bed.
Cold.
Empty.
His hand lingered there for a second.
Then slowly withdrew.
Right.
Evelyn had left.
He exhaled lightly.
She had walked out before.
After arguments.
After disappointments.
After lonely anniversaries.
And every single time…
She had come back.
This time wouldn’t be any different.
At least…
That was what he believed.
His phone lay on the nightstand.
No messages.
No missed calls.
No “Good morning.”
For three years, she had never missed one.
Damien unlocked the screen.
Opened her contact.
His thumb paused above the call button.
Then stopped.
She was waiting for him to apologize.
She could wait a little longer.
He placed the phone back on the table.
Downstairs, the mansion felt strangely lifeless.
No smell of breakfast.
No fresh coffee.
No soft music drifting from the kitchen.
Only silence.
Mrs. Carter appeared with an awkward smile.
“Good morning, Mr. Blackwood.”
“Breakfast?”
She looked surprised.
“I…”
“I wasn’t given a menu.”
Damien frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Mrs. Carter hesitated.
“Mrs. Blackwood planned every meal every Sunday evening.”
“She also prepared your weekly medicine.”
“I only followed her instructions.”
Damien said nothing.
For the first time…
He realized he had absolutely no idea how breakfast appeared on the table every morning.
Ten minutes later…
The coffee machine defeated him.
He pressed three different buttons.
Nothing.
He chose a random bag of coffee beans.
The machine made a terrible noise.
The coffee tasted bitter.
He poured it into a mug anyway.
Breakfast could wait.
Coffee first.
Just as always.
The navy notebook still rested on the kitchen island.
He looked at it with mild annoyance.
Then opened it.
Item No. 1
Never take your stomach medicine on an empty stomach.
Beneath it…
A sentence he hadn’t noticed last night.
I know you’ll ignore this.
You always do.
Damien frowned.
“…That’s not true.”
Almost automatically, he reached for the medicine bottle.
Five minutes later…
A sharp pain twisted through his stomach.
He leaned against the counter.
Closed his eyes.
Mrs. Carter hurried over.
“Mr. Blackwood!”
“Should I call a doctor?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
His eyes dropped to the notebook again.
For several long seconds…
He stared at the handwriting.
Then quietly opened the next page.
Item No. 2
The coffee beans are in the second cabinet.
Please eat first.
Your stomach complains long before you do.
No blame.
No resentment.
Just…
Care.
The kind he had accepted for years without ever noticing.
For the first time that morning…
Damien made himself toast.
Across the city…
Evelyn unlocked the door to a small design studio.
Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Dust floated gently in the air.
Everything inside smelled of fresh paint and unfinished dreams.
She placed her suitcase beside a workbench.
Removed her wedding ring from her pocket.
Looked at it quietly.
Then opened a drawer.
Inside lay dozens of unfinished jewelry sketches.
She placed the ring inside.
Closed the drawer.
Locked it.
“I’m home.”
The words were barely louder than a whisper.
For the first time in years…
She smiled.
Not because she had forgotten Damien.
Because she had finally remembered herself.
At Blackwood Group…
Lucas was already waiting.
“You look pale.”
“I skipped breakfast.”
Lucas blinked.
“Mrs. Blackwood never allowed that.”
Damien looked up.
“What?”
Lucas hesitated.
“Every Sunday night…”
“She emailed me your meeting schedule.”
“If a meeting lasted over ninety minutes…”
“She reminded me to prepare food before it started.”
Damien stared at him.
“You knew?”
Lucas nodded.
“Everyone in the executive office knew.”
“You… didn’t?”
Silence.
For reasons he couldn’t explain…
Damien suddenly felt like the only person who had never really seen his wife.
At noon…
His phone rang.
Grandma Eleanor.
He answered immediately.
“Grandma.”
A warm laugh came from the other end.
“Did Evelyn arrive?”
“Arrive where?”
“My place.”
“She usually comes after every anniversary.”
Damien’s grip tightened around the phone.
“She didn’t.”
Grandma became unusually quiet.
Finally she asked,
“Did you remember yesterday?”
He didn’t answer.
Her voice softened.
“Damien…”
“The women who leave quietly…”
”…usually spent years trying to stay.”
The line went silent.
He stood there for a long time…
Without speaking.
That night…
The mansion felt far too large for one person.
Damien loosened his tie.
Walked into the kitchen.
Without thinking…
He made toast first.
Then coffee.
Only after eating…
Did he take his medicine.
He stopped.
He had followed the notebook.
Almost unconsciously.
He frowned.
Annoyed with himself.
Then reached for it again.
A folded cream-colored note slipped from between the pages.
He unfolded it slowly.
If you’re reading this tonight…
You ignored me this morning.
Just like always.
He stared at the note.
His heartbeat slowed.
How could she know?
He turned the page.
Another sentence waited at the bottom.
Tomorrow…
You’ll finally discover the first thing you never knew about me.
Damien’s eyes narrowed.
For the first time since Evelyn left…
He wasn’t curious about when she would come home.
He was curious about…
Who she really was.
- Writer
