Chapter 2: The Date That Should Not Exist
I stared at the paper like it was written in another language.
The numbers were clear.
Too clear.
My brain kept trying to rearrange them into something that made sense.
It couldn’t.
It wouldn’t.
The funeral chapel suddenly felt freezing cold.
“Cole,” I said, barely able to speak.
“Read it again.””
Attorney Cole looked at the certificate.
Then he looked at me.
“Elena…”
“Read it again.””
He took a slow breath.
“The marriage date is July fourteenth.””
My lips parted.
“That’s impossible.””
Mara stood a few feet away, watching me break apart piece by piece.
“That was the day Damien married me,” she said.
I turned toward her.
“You don’t get to say that.””
My voice cracked.
“You don’t get to walk into my husband’s funeral and tell me that.””
Mara’s eyes filled with tears.
“I didn’t want to come here.””
“Then why did you?””
“Because I thought you deserved to know the truth.””
The truth.
That word felt like an insult.
I looked around the chapel.
The white flowers.
The candles.
The coffin.
Everything had been prepared to honor a man I thought I knew.
But now every memory had a question attached.
Every “I love you.””
Every late-night phone call.
Every business trip.
Every excuse.
My hands started shaking.
Cole noticed.
“Elena, sit down.””
“I’m fine.””
“You’re not.””
“I said I’m fine.””
My voice echoed through the empty room.
Cole didn’t argue.
He just watched me carefully.
He had known Damien for years.
Maybe he knew things I didn’t.
That thought hurt worse than anything else.
I turned toward him.
“Did you know about her?””
Cole looked away for half a second.
That was enough.
My heart sank.
“You knew something.””
“No,” he said quickly.
Too quickly.
“I knew Damien had complicated business matters. That’s all.””
Mara let out a bitter laugh.
“Everyone always says that.””
Cole looked at her.
“Mara, now is not the time.””
“Then when is the time?”” she snapped.
“After he gets buried?””
The anger in her voice surprised me.
She wasn’t acting like someone who wanted attention.
She looked like someone who had been carrying pain alone for a long time.
I hated that I noticed.
I hated that a small part of me believed her.
I walked closer to the coffin.
Damien’s face looked peaceful.
Almost innocent.
That made me angry.
“How long?”” I whispered.
Nobody answered.
“How long were you married to him?””
Mara lowered her eyes.
“Two years.””
Two years.
The number hit me like a physical blow.
I stepped back.
Two years.
While I was making dinner for him.
While I was sleeping beside him.
While I was planning our future.
A woman somewhere else believed she had the same husband.
“How?”” I asked.
Mara looked at me.
“He told me he had to keep us separate because of his family.””
I laughed once.
A painful, empty sound.
“His family?””
She nodded.
“He said there were people who would hurt us if they knew.””
I looked at Cole.
“Did you know?””
His silence answered before his words did.
“I knew Damien was dealing with threats,” Cole said.
I felt my chest tighten.
“Threats?””
“Business issues.””
“Don’t do that,” I said.
“Don’t give me another vague answer.””
Cole closed his briefcase.
“Elena, there are things you need to hear, but not here.””
I looked at Damien.
“Why not here?””
Because this was where he was supposed to be remembered.
Not investigated.
Not exposed.
Not destroyed.
Mara stepped closer.
“There’s something else.””
I turned.
“What?””
She reached into her coat again.
I immediately stepped back.
“No.””
She stopped.
“I’m not trying to hurt you.””
“You already did.””
Her face fell.
For the first time, I saw something besides desperation.
Regret.
“I know.””
The silence stretched.
Then Mara looked toward Damien.
“He wasn’t the man you thought he was.””
I felt tears burning my eyes.
“Neither were you.””
She nodded slowly.
“Maybe not.””
Cole picked up the marriage certificate again.
His expression became serious.
“Elena, there is one thing we need to understand.””
“What?””
He looked at the date.
Then at Damien’s body.
“Why was Damien signing a marriage certificate after he was already declared dead?””
No one spoke.
May you like
The question stayed in the air.
And then the chapel doors opened.
