Episode4
1430 Words
Adrian was standing in the hallway, his hands so firmly clenched that his knuckles were turning white, staring at the closed door to his room.
He was holding his third half-empty bottle of whiskey tonight, but he was unable to find the numbness he was seeking.
A tornado of memories, rage, and excruciating pain filled his thoughts.
Victoria.
Just the name tore at his chest, each syllable piercing him like a sharp dagger.
His sister had been his dearest friend, his source of light, and the one person he could always rely on.
She had supported him through everything, including the loss of their dad and the challenges of growing up with their family's legacy weighing on him.
As his confidante, she was the only person who truly understood him.
And now, she was gone.
Taken from him in the blink of an eye.
He had been devastated the night she died, and he had never been the same.
He was not capable of being.
Every day, he felt like he was falling deeper into a black pit, the weight of her absence suffocating him.
He took a big sip from the bottle, not noticing the alcohol's burn at all.
That evening was all he could think about.
The gathering.
The laughter.
The music.
And then—mayhem.
Victoria had been there, grinning and laughing after spending hours with Lena, and suddenly, she was gone.
And Lena… Lena ruined everything—his sister, and his heart.
His jaw tightened, his teeth grinding as his thoughts circled back to her.
Lena, the girl he had once thought he loved, the girl he had trusted with his sister’s life.
And yet, she was the one who had been with Victoria when everything went wrong.
The one who claimed to remember nothing.
How could she forget?
The sound of his footsteps echoed through the empty house as he stalked down the hallway, his thoughts a storm of anger and confusion.
He had married her, thinking he could somehow cope—God, he had married her.
And yet, every time he looked at her, all he could see was the shadow of Victoria’s death.
When Adrian finally arrived at the drawing room entrance, the thick oak door stood in front of him like a wall separating him from the truth.
For a few minutes, his hand hovered over the doorknob, his chest constricting with anger and frustration.
What was she hiding?
Lena, who was sitting by the window with a book in her hands, was startled when he shoved the door open, the loud bang against the wall making her flinch.
Her head snapped up, her wide eyes filled with shock and dread.
The sight of her fear gave Adrian a terrible sort of satisfaction.
She ought to feel terrified.
“Adrian?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
His gaze darkened, his lips curling into a sneer.
“You need to tell me what happened that night,” he murmured, his voice low, almost pleading.
Lena’s face paled, her fingers clutching the book tightly as if it could shield her.
“I haven’t—”
“Don’t lie to me!” Adrian’s voice rose, filling the room with his fury.
He took a step closer, watching as she instinctively shrank back.
The sight only fueled his rage.
“You’ve been hiding the truth about Victoria,” he accused.
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she shook her head.
“I don’t remember anything from that night, Adrian,” she insisted.
“I’ve told you—”
“I don’t want your excuses!” he snapped.
He moved toward her, his presence looming, suffocating.
“You were there, Lena.
That night.
You were the last person to see her alive, and yet you claim you don’t remember anything?
Do you think I’m a fool?”
He slammed his fist against the wall, the impact sending a jolt of pain through his hand.
But it was nothing compared to the agony twisting inside him.
Lena’s breath hitched, her eyes wide with panic as she reached toward him.
“Adrian, please, I would never hurt her.
You have to believe me.”
“Believe you?”
Adrian let out a bitter, humorless laugh, his eyes dark with disbelief.
“Every day,” he continued, his voice low and dangerous, “I live with the knowledge that she’s gone.
And every day, I see you here, alive, acting as if you’re innocent.
But I know you’re hiding something, Lena.
I can feel it.”
“I’m not hiding anything!”
Lena’s voice broke as tears spilled down her cheeks.
“I loved Victoria.
She was my best friend.
I would never—”
“Stop!”
Adrian’s voice was a roar now, his emotions spiraling out of control.
His hands shook as he took another step closer, towering over her.
“You don’t get to talk about loving her.
You don’t get to say her name.”
The grief that clawed at his chest every day since Victoria’s death threatened to choke him.
He was drowning in it, and every time he looked at Lena, it only pulled him deeper.
She was supposed to be his wife, but all he could see was betrayal.
Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was Victoria’s lifeless body.
And the questions that haunted him.
The questions Lena refused to answer.
Lena sobbed, shaking her head desperately.
“I don’t know anything.
I swear, Adrian, I don’t remember.”
“The one person who can give me answers just happens to have amnesia,” Adrian growled.
His fists clenched and unclenched as he fought to stay in control.
Lena’s tears fell faster, her whole body trembling with the force of her sobs.
“I’m sorry,” she cried.
“I’m so sorry, Adrian.”
“Sorry?”
He scoffed, the word bitter on his tongue.
“Sorry doesn’t bring her back, Lena.
Sorry doesn’t change anything.
You were with her.
You were supposed to protect her.”
Her knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, her face buried in her hands.
Adrian stood over her, his chest heaving with fury and grief.
He wanted to yell at her, to demand answers.
But all he could do was watch as she crumbled before him.
For a moment, he almost felt pity for her.
But then the image of Victoria’s lifeless body flashed through his mind.
And the anger surged back, stronger than ever.
“I can’t look at you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.
“I can’t stand the sight of you.
I can’t do this anymore,” Adrian finally said.
His eyes were cold, devoid of warmth or compassion.
“I don’t want to see your face, Lena.
Not until you decide to tell me the truth.”
Lena began to sob more loudly, her body trembling.
Adrian’s heart twisted, but he buried any sympathy.
It was not something he could afford to feel.
Not while lies and secrets still clouded the truth.
He turned and left the room without another word.
Lena’s sobs echoed behind him, chasing him down the corridor.
But he didn’t look back.
Not when his sister’s death still haunted his every breath.
---
Later that night, Adrian sat in his study, staring at an old photograph.
It was him and Victoria, teenagers, laughing, her arm slung over his shoulders.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
She had been the light in his life.
Without her, the world felt darker, emptier.
“I should have been there,” he whispered, voice hoarse.
“I should have protected you.”
But he hadn’t been there.
And now, all he had left were questions.
And a wife who claimed to remember nothing.
He set the photograph down, leaning back in his chair.
The weight of his grief pressed down on him.
All he knew was that he
needed answers.
And until Lena gave them to him, he would never stop searching.
***
For hours, Lena sat in the dark, her tears long dried.
Each time she tried to reach Adrian, she only pushed him further away.
She pulled her knees to her chest, resting her forehead against them.
No matter how hard she tried, Victoria’s death lingered in her memory.
Adrian was right.
She was the last person to see Victoria alive.
Yet, she had no answers.
"I'm sorry," Lena whispered into the empty room.
"I'm so sorry, Adrian."
But deep down, she knew.
Her apology meant nothing.
Not without the truth.
- Writer
