Adrian Blackwood knew far too many little things about Elise.
He knew Elise didn't like sweet breakfasts, but would take a piece of cake when she was anxious. He knew she couldn't stand overly bright lights and always chose the seat closest to the door. He knew Elise would read the last page of a book first, check the door lock twice, and rub her thumb whenever she was holding back her anger.
Those things could have been explained by staff notes.
But staff notes could never explain that Elise never drank coffee after four in the afternoon because caffeine kept her awake all night.
Adrian knew.
He also knew Elise would refuse help the first time, accept it the second, and consider it an insult the third.
On Sunday morning, Elise found a cup of lemon tea on her desk.
She called Thomas.
“Who made this?”
“The kitchen, ma’am.”
“Who gave the order?”
Thomas hesitated. “Mr. Adrian.”
Elise carried the cup to Adrian’s office.
The door was open. Adrian was reading a financial report. He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, looking more like an exhausted man than the feared head of a company the market respected.
“Did you tell the kitchen about my tea?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You didn’t like your coffee this morning.”
“I only said it was too bitter.”
“You didn’t drink half the cup.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to monitor my drinks.”
Adrian closed the report. “I’m not monitoring you.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Paying attention.”
The word sounded simple, but it made Elise even more uncomfortable.
“Why?”
“Because you live in my house.”
“People don’t have to memorize a resident’s habits just because they’re married.”
“No.”
“Then?”
Adrian looked at her. “Because I want to.”
Elise wasn’t prepared for such a direct answer.
She set the cup on the desk a little harder than necessary. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act as though you know me.”
“I’m not acting.”
“Adrian.”
“I know a few things about you.”
“How?”
“By paying attention.”
“Since when?”
The question slipped out before Elise could stop it.
Adrian stood. There were no more than three steps between them. He didn’t move closer, but his presence filled the room.
“Some things don’t need to be dated.”
“Everything you hide has a date.”
“And everything you want to know is always connected to the past.”
“Because you keep making me feel like I’ve lived in it.”
Adrian fell silent.
Elise noticed something on the shelf behind him: an old wooden box with a small lock. Engraved on its surface was the image of a bird carrying an umbrella.
The same image as the one on her family’s broken cup.
She stepped toward the shelf.
Adrian moved faster and stood in front of it.
“Don’t.”
His voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough to stop Elise.
“Why?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Don’t I live in your house and now happen to be your wife? Or does that rule only apply when you want to know about my business?”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“Don’t touch that.”
“Elise?”
Thomas’s voice came from outside, breaking the tension. “Mr. Adrian, your father is calling.”
Adrian continued looking at Elise.
“Take the cup with you,” he said. “Don’t let the tea get cold.”
“That’s not what we’re talking about.”
“I know.”
He walked out.
Elise waited until his footsteps faded, then reached for the wooden box. The key was in the lock, but it wasn’t locked. Her hand touched the lid.
The office door opened again.
Adrian stood there.
The look on his face made Elise let go of the box.
She had never seen Adrian lose control. Even when facing Victor, he had only looked angry. This time was different. His face was pale, his breath held, and his eyes reflected something close to panic.
“Get out,” he said.
Elise straightened. “You could ask more politely.”
“Get out of this room.”
“Why is that box important?”
“Because I said so.”
“Bad answer.”
Adrian stepped inside and picked up the box. His hands gripped the old wood carefully, as though he were touching something fragile.
“Not everything has to be known by you.”
“Especially if it has something to do with me?”
He fell silent.
Elise fixed him with a sharp look. “It has to do with me, doesn’t it?”
Adrian closed his eyes for a moment.
“Go, Elise.”
There was pain in his voice. Not anger. A kind of pain that shouldn’t have surfaced from a simple question.
Elise left, but she didn’t really go. She stood in the hallway, listening as the office door was locked from the inside.
A few minutes later, Adrian left through the back door.
Elise returned to her own office and searched for information about the image of the bird carrying an umbrella. She opened the family business’s digital archives, old design records, and childhood photographs. There were no results.
Near nightfall, she found an old photograph her mother had sent by text.
The photo had been taken at their home ten years earlier. Elise was still a teenager, standing beside her father. Behind them, on a table, sat a porcelain cup with the image of a bird carrying an umbrella.
In the corner of the photo, a young man was partially visible behind the door.
His face was blurry.
But he was holding the same old umbrella.
Elise’s phone vibrated.
Another message came in from an unknown number.
Ask your husband why he keeps everything from the night your family began to fall apart.
Elise stared at the message until the screen went dark.
Downstairs, Adrian received a call from Victor.
“She’s starting to remember,” Victor said.
Adrian looked at the locked office door.
“I know.”
“Then speed everything up.”
“I won’t force her.”
Victor laughed softly on the other end of the phone.
“You already forced her to marry you.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
“The marriage wasn’t for me.”
“Liar.”
Adrian didn’t answer.
Because for the first time, he wasn’t sure he could still believe that lie himself.