Chapter Three — Six Years
1547 Words
"Who are you?"
Amelia stood beside the hotel window, her phone pressed tightly to her ear.
Victor Hale didn't answer immediately.
"I think you deserve to know what really happened."
Her pulse quickened.
"What happened?"
"Not over the phone."
"Then tell me where to meet you."
"Tomorrow. Seven p.m. The Meridian."
Amelia frowned.
"The hotel?"
"Yes."
"Why should I trust you?"
"You shouldn't."
The line went dead.
Amelia stared at her phone.
"What kind of person says that?"
She tossed the phone onto the bed.
But she couldn't shake the feeling that Victor Hale knew something important.
Something Damian hadn't told her.
---
The following morning, Amelia arrived at the Blackwood residence with one purpose.
To collect her things.
She hadn't slept.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Damian kissing Clara.
But worse than that was the sentence Clara had left behind.
He said your marriage had been over for a long time.
Amelia unlocked the front door.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
She walked inside.
Everything looked exactly as she'd left it.
The flowers she'd arranged on the dining table.
The photographs lining the hallway.
Their wedding picture.
Amelia stopped.
In the photograph, Damian was smiling at her.
Not the polite smile he gave strangers.
A real smile.
His arm was around her waist.
Her head rested against his shoulder.
They looked happy.
They had been happy.
Hadn't they?
She touched the frame.
"How did we get here?"
A voice answered behind her.
"I don't know."
Amelia spun around.
Damian stood in the doorway.
His shirt was wrinkled, his tie missing, and dark circles sat beneath his eyes.
He looked like he hadn't slept either.
"What are you doing here?"
"It's my house too."
"Not for long."
He flinched.
Amelia walked past him.
He followed.
"I'll help you pack."
"I don't need your help."
"You shouldn't be doing this alone."
She stopped.
"Why?"
He stared at her.
"Because I know you."
Amelia laughed bitterly.
"Do you?"
His jaw tightened.
"I know you hate being helped."
"I used to."
"You still do."
"Then stop pretending you know me."
Silence.
She entered their bedroom.
Her clothes filled half the wardrobe.
She pulled out a suitcase.
Damian stood by the door.
He didn't say anything.
For several minutes, the only sound was hangers sliding across metal.
Then Amelia spoke.
"Was it worth it?"
Damian looked down.
"No."
"Three months."
"I know."
"Did you love her?"
"No."
"Did you want her?"
He hesitated.
Amelia stopped packing.
"Answer me."
"No."
"Then why?"
"I don't know."
She stared at him.
"That's the worst answer you could give me."
"I was weak."
"You were selfish."
"Yes."
"You knew I trusted you."
"Yes."
"You knew I'd never betray you."
"I know."
"And you still did it."
His eyes reddened.
"I know."
Amelia turned away.
"Stop saying that."
"What do you want me to say?"
"The truth."
"I am telling you the truth."
"No." She zipped the suitcase. "You're telling me what you think will make this easier."
She picked up another bag.
Damian stepped closer.
"I don't expect you to forgive me."
"Good."
"I don't expect you to forget."
"Good."
"But I need you to know something."
Amelia looked at him.
"I never stopped loving you."
Her expression hardened.
"You don't get to say that."
"Why?"
"Because if you loved me, you wouldn't have done this."
Damian swallowed.
"I don't have an excuse."
"No, you don't."
She walked toward the door.
He caught sight of something on her bedside table.
Their anniversary photograph.
The one from their fifth wedding anniversary.
Amelia had framed it herself.
Damian picked it up.
"You're taking this?"
"No."
He looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because I don't want it anymore."
She walked away.
Damian remained frozen.
Six years.
Six years of memories.
And suddenly, the house felt like a museum dedicated to a marriage that no longer existed.
---
By noon, Amelia had moved everything she needed into storage.
She stood outside the house with her suitcase.
Damian came outside.
"Where are you staying?"
"That's none of your business."
"Amelia."
She turned.
"I'm going to ask you one thing."
"What?"
"If you need anything—money, a place to stay, anything—"
She laughed.
"You still don't understand."
"Understand what?"
"I don't want anything from you."
His expression fell.
"I want my life back."
Damian nodded slowly.
"I'll give you whatever you want."
"You can't."
"Why?"
"Because you already took something you can never return."
He stared at her.
"What?"
"My trust."
She opened the car door.
Before getting inside, she looked at him one final time.
"I hope she was worth it."
Then she drove away.
Damian watched until her car disappeared.
Only then did he whisper—
"She wasn't."
---
At seven that evening, Amelia sat across from Victor Hale.
He was younger than she'd expected.
Perhaps early thirties.
Calm.
Sharp-eyed.
He placed a folder on the table.
Amelia didn't touch it.
"What is this?"
"Information."
"About Damian?"
"About the woman you caught him with."
Amelia's expression changed.
"Clara?"
Victor nodded.
"What does she have to do with you?"
"More than you think."
Amelia opened the folder.
The first photograph showed Clara entering a restaurant.
The second showed her meeting an unfamiliar man.
The third showed Damian's father.
Amelia frowned.
"Why are you showing me these?"
"Because Clara wasn't just Damian's assistant."
"Then what was she?"
Victor leaned back.
"She was investigating Blackwood Enterprises."
Amelia's eyes narrowed.
"For whom?"
"That is the interesting part."
She looked at the photographs again.
"You're saying she used Damian?"
"I'm saying you don't know the whole story."
Amelia closed the folder.
"Why do you care?"
Victor's expression changed.
"My family lost everything because of Damian's family."
Amelia stared at him.
"Then this is revenge."
"Partly."
"So you're using me."
"No."
"Then why tell me?"
"Because you're the only person who can get close enough to expose what happened."
Amelia stood.
"I'm not interested."
Victor didn't move.
"You should be."
She picked up her handbag.
"I just got divorced."
"You haven't."
She stopped.
"What?"
"The papers haven't been finalized."
"I know that."
"No."
Victor's voice was quiet.
"You don't understand. The divorce isn't the important part."
Amelia turned around.
"What is?"
Victor slid another photograph across the table.
Amelia looked down.
Her blood ran cold.
It was Damian.
Standing beside her.
But the picture wasn't recent.
It had been taken six years earlier.
The date printed beneath it was three weeks before their wedding.
And Damian wasn't looking at Amelia.
He was looking at someone else.
Someone Amelia had never seen before.
"Who is that?"
Victor watched her carefully.
"That's the woman Damian was trying to protect."
Amelia's heart pounded.
"From what?"
Victor didn't answer.
"Tell me."
"I can't."
"Then why show me?"
"Because you need to understand something."
He leaned forward.
"Your marriage didn't begin falling apart three months ago."
Amelia's fingers tightened around the photograph.
"It began before you ever walked down the aisle."
---
That night, Amelia returned to her hotel.
She couldn't stop thinking about the photograph.
She called Damian.
He answered immediately.
"Amelia?"
"Who is she?"
Silence.
Amelia's stomach dropped.
"You know exactly who I'm talking about."
"Where did you get that picture?"
"Answer me."
"Who gave it to you?"
"That doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
"Who is she?"
Damian exhaled.
"Amelia, please."
Her heart began pounding harder.
"Six years," she whispered.
"What?"
"Was there something you didn't tell me before we got married?"
Another silence.
This one lasted too long.
Amelia closed her eyes.
"Damian."
"I was going to tell you."
Her eyes opened.
"You were going to tell me?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"I don't know."
"After another six years?"
"That's not fair."
She laughed.
"Fair?"
Her voice cracked.
"You cheated on me. You lied to me. And now you're telling me there was something else you hid before we even got married."
"I was trying to protect you."
"From what?"
Damian said nothing.
"From what?"
"I can't tell you."
Amelia's hand trembled.
"Then we're done."
"Amelia—"
"No."
She ended the call.
For several seconds, she stood completely still.
Then her phone rang again.
Damian.
She ignored it.
Again.
Ignored.
Again.
She switched the phone off.
But before the screen went dark, a message appeared.
Damian: If Victor Hale has contacted you, don't trust him.
Amelia stared at the words.
Victor Hale.
Damian knew him.
She slowly sat on the edge of the bed.
Then another message arrived.
Damian: He is the reason I almost lost you six years ago.
Amelia's breath caught.
Six years ago?
Before the wedding?
Her eyes moved back to the photograph.
The mysterious woman.
Victor.
Damian.
A secret buried beneath her entire marriage.
And suddenly, the betrayal she'd discovered the night before didn't feel like the beginning of the nightmare.
It felt like the first c***k in something much bigger.
Amelia whispered to herself—
"What did I marry into?"
Her phone buzzed one final time.
This time, it wasn't Damian.
It was Victor.
Victor: Ask Damian what happened to his first fiancée.
Amelia stopped breathing.
First fiancée?
Damian had never told her he had one.
And for the first time since discovering his betrayal, Amelia felt something far more dangerous than heartbreak.
She felt afraid.
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