Chapter 2 - The Woman In His Past

Morning came quietly inside the mansion.

Gray clouds lingered outside the tall windows, wrapping the house in a dull, silver light. The rain from last night had stopped, but the coldness remained. It settled into the walls. Into the silence. Especially into Clara.

She stood alone in the dining room, clearing the untouched anniversary decorations from the table. The candles had already melted into uneven shapes overnight. The sunflower petals had begun curling at the edges.

Three years of marriage. And somehow, she still felt like a guest inside his life. Clara carefully stacked the plates together before carrying them toward the kitchen. Her movements were gentle, almost practiced. As if making too much noise would disturb something fragile. Or someone distant.

Sebastian had already left for work before sunrise. He always did after nights that felt uncomfortable. The sink water ran softly against her fingers while she washed the dishes one by one. The warmth should have felt comforting. But it didn’t, it is suffocating her.

Her mind kept replaying the moment from last night. That look on his face when his phone lit up. The softness in his eyes. The smile he never gave her. Clara lowered her gaze. Maybe she was over thinking. Maybe she was simply tired. Maybe love just looked different after marriage.

But deep inside, another thought whispered quietly. Or maybe he never loved you to begin with. She quickly turned off the faucet. The silence became unbearable after that.

By noon, Clara decided to clean Sebastian’s study.

It was one of the few rooms the housekeepers rarely touched because Sebastian disliked people moving his things around. Usually, Clara avoided entering too often herself. The room always felt strangely untouched by her existence.

Like it belonged to a version of Sebastian she never knew. Dust floated softly beneath the afternoon light as she opened the door. The familiar scent of old books and woods filled the air immediately.

Everything was perfectly organized. Documents aligned neatly. Books arranged by size. Dark shelves polished spotless.

Clara walked toward the desk quietly, gathering scattered papers into proper piles. Most were business documents she didn’t understand. Numbers. Contracts. Endless meetings.

A life she stood beside but was never truly part of. She opened one drawer to place a fountain pen inside. Then paused. There, beneath a stack of files, was an old photograph. Her fingers stilled instantly.

The edges were slightly worn, like it had been held too many times. Clara slowly picked it up. A young Sebastian smiled brightly at the camera, his arm wrapped around a girl standing beside him. And for the first time since marrying him... Clara saw what Sebastian looked like when he was truly happy.

Not polite, not restrained, nor distant... Just happy. The girl beside him was beautiful in an effortless way. Dark hair dancing in the wind. Eyes crinkled from laughing too hard. She wore no expensive jewelry. No elegant dress. And yet… She looked more alive than anyone Clara had ever seen.

Written on the back of the photograph were faded words in black ink. "You promised we’d stay together forever. - Alessia"

Clara felt her chest tighten painfully. Alessia. The name lingered in her mind softly. She stared at the handwriting for a long moment before realizing something else. Sebastian had kept it carefully hidden.

The sound of the study door opening startled her. Clara looked up too quickly. Sebastian stood at the doorway, still wearing his dark coat from work. His eyes immediately landed on the photograph in her hands.

And for the first time... His expression cracked. “Where did you get that?” His voice came out sharper than usual. Clara froze on her spot. “I was cleaning,” she said quietly. “It was inside the drawer.”

Sebastian crossed the room quickly and took the photograph from her hand almost instantly. As if afraid she might damage it. Or worse.

The movement hurt more than Clara expected. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Sebastian looked down at the photo for a brief second before sliding it carefully back into the drawer.

His movements softened again. But not toward her. “It’s nothing important,” he said. Clara forced herself to smile gently. “Then why keep it?”

The question slipped out before she could stop it. Silence filled the room immediately. Sebastian’s jaw tightened slightly. “She was someone I knew a long time ago.” Was.

Yet the photograph looked loved enough to survive years. Clara lowered her eyes. “Were you in love with her? Are you lovers? Or perhaps... Worse?”

She hated how small her voice sounded. Sebastian didn’t answer right away. And somehow... That became the answer. A quiet ache spread through Clara’s chest. Because people hesitate when the truth still hurts.

Finally, Sebastian spoke softly. “That was a long time ago.” He didn't even deny it. He's straight to the point. Clara nodded slowly, pretending that was enough.

Pretending her heart hadn’t already begun piecing together the empty spaces inside their marriage. The way he looked at another person’s name like it still belonged to him.

Alessia.

For some reason, Clara suddenly felt like a stranger standing inside someone else’s love story.

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