The Hundredth Divorce

The Man I Called

Amelia's POV

I barely slept that night, not because I was thinking about Alexander, at least, I tried not to. I was thinking about my mother Victoria Carter.

It had been seven years since she died, but there were still some days when I felt like she was going to walk through the door and call my name.

I missed her, I missed her voice, the way she used to laugh whenever I made a terrible joke.

Most of all, I missed the woman I was before she died.

Back then, I had dreams, I wanted to make music, to take photographs, to travel, to build something that belonged to me.

Then, I married Alexander, somehow, without even realizing it, I stopped doing almost everything I loved.

Alexander never directly told me I couldn't pursue music, he didn't have to.

Every time I talked about recording a song, he would remind me that I was his wife and didn't need to work, he even told me how bad I sounded.

Whenever I wanted to go somewhere with my camera, he would ask why I couldn't just stay home.

Eventually, I stopped asking, I stopped taking photographs, I stopped writing music, stopped being Amelia, and I became just Mrs. Alexander Black.

And honestly, I was tired of that boring weak woman.

I got out of bed and looked at my reflection in the mirror, i saw that my eyes were swollen from crying, and my hair was a mess. I simply looked terrible.

"Well, Amelia," I muttered to myself, "at least nobody is here to tell you how terrible you look."

I almost laughed, seriously, it was strange.

I had been miserable for so long that even making a small joke to myself felt like freedom.

I got dressed and drove to my mother's old house, the house had been locked for years.

I stood outside for a few seconds before inserting the key.

The door opened with a soft creak. The entire place was filled with dust, and cobwebs.

But behind the rusty smell was something familiar... my mother's perfume.

I stood there, completely still.

It was probably my imagination, there was no way her perfume could still be here after seven years.

But for a moment, I felt like I was eight years old again.

"Mom?"

The word slipped out before I could stop myself.

Of course, nobody answered, I swallowed and walked inside.

Everything was almost exactly the way I remembered it.

The old sofa, the piano, the photographs on the wall, and mu mother's favorite chair.

I walked toward the piano and brushed my fingers across the dusty surface.

I remembered sitting beside her when I was a child.

She would play a melody, and I would try to copy it, whenever I got it wrong, she never laughed at me, she would simply say, "Again, Amelia."

So I would try again and again until I got it right. I smiled sadly.

"Again, Amelia."

I could almost hear her voice, I looked toward the hallway, the studio was still there.

I hadn't entered that room in years, I don't know why, maybe because everything inside reminded me too much of her.

But today, I opened the door, and hust as expected, dust covered almost everything.

There were old microphones, speakers, piles of music sheets and boxes stacked against the wall.

I walked toward the desk and opened drawers.

I checked boxes, looked through old files like I was serching for anything in particular. That was when I noticed a small wooden box at the back of the desk.

I pulled it forward, It was locked and I frowned because I had never seen it before.

There was a small piece of paper taped underneath it.

I carefully removed it and I saw a few words.

'For Amelia.'

My heart started beating faster, I searched the drawers for a key, checked my mother's old cabinet but i found nothing.

Then I remembered the necklace my mother had given me when I was sixteen, she had always told me never to lose it.

I wore it under my clothes even after I got married, I pulled it out.

There was a tiny key attached to the pendant.

"No way."

My fingers trembled as I inserted the key into the lock.

Click. The box opened.

Inside were several files, a small flash drive, some photographs and a handwritten letter.

I picked up the letter first, the handwriting was unmistakably hers.

My heart began pounding as I unfolded it, the first line almost made me stop breathing.

'Amelia, if you're reading this, something has gone wrong.'

I stared at the words, I read the next line.

'There is something I need you to find.'

My fingers tightened around the paper, what was she talking about?

I quickly looked through the other files.

There were music sheets, contracts, names, company information.

And several documents connected to one particular project.

I rhink it should be the project she had been working on, the same project i know nothing about.

I picked up the flash drive, there was a small label attached to it.

'Project A.'

I was about to open my laptop when I heard a car outside.

I froze, someone was coming.

I quickly gathered everything and placed the files back into the box.

Then I heard footsteps approaching the front door.

My heart began pounding, who knew I was here?

I stood quietly in the studio when the door swung opened, then I heard a familiar voice.

"Amelia?"

I exhaled.

It was Sebastian, hearing his voice, I walked out of the studio.

He stood in the hallway wearing a dark suit, looking completely out of place in my mother's old house.

"You scared me."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry."

I looked at him.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I didn't."

He glanced around.

"I came because I wanted to check on you." He said with that deep voice of his that had sometime scared me.

I looked at him for a moment, Alexander never did that, that was one of the many things he never did. To check if I was okay.

Sebastian noticed my swollen eyes.

"You've been crying."

I looked away.

"I'm fine."

He didn't argue, he simply walked toward me.

His eyes landed on the old studio behind me.

"You found it."

I frowned.

"Found what?"

He looked at me.

"Your mother's unfinished project."

I froze.

"How do you know it will be here?"

For the first time, Sebastian's calm expression changed slightly.

He looked serious.

"Because, Amelia, your mother came to me about it seven years ago."

I stared at him.

"What?"

He nodded.

"And I think it's time you knew what she was working on."

I felt a chill run through me.

My mother had spoken to Sebastian before she died.

And suddenly, I wasn't sure if her death had really been an accident.