Chapter 193: Chapter 193

ADORE

The mansion was exactly as I remembered it.

I walked through the heavy front doors right behind Angelo, looking at every single room with the fake curiosity of someone seeing it all for the first time. He stayed a careful distance away, his voice low and cautious as he pointed things out, the living room, the quiet kitchen, and the back garden framed by the window. I just nodded along, asking simple questions, keeping my face soft and open while giving him absolutely nothing.

The sketchbook sat right on the living room table.

I looked at it once, then looked away.

Angelo saved our bedroom for last.

He pushed the door open and stepped to the side, letting me walk in first. I took in the large bed, the heavy curtains, his dark jacket tossed over the chair, and his hockey ribbon sitting on the bathroom shelf through the open door. I moved through the quiet room, touching the furniture without saying a word, while he hovered in the doorway with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. He had that tight, careful look on his face, trying so hard to hide his feelings.

"This is our room," he said softly.

"It's a nice room," I replied as a matter of fact.

He just nodded.

"I'll let you rest," he whispered, his voice thick. "If you need anything at all, I'll be downstairs."

I told him okay, and he gently pulled the door shut behind him. Standing alone in the quiet, I stared at the bed, his jacket on the chair, and the ribbon on the shelf, taking one long, slow breath.

I changed into the fresh clothes left out for me, slid under the heavy covers, and lay in the dark just thinking. I listened to the house settle around me, pushing down the familiar warmth of being back in this bed.

An hour went by. Maybe more.

Then, the bedroom door clicked open.

I heard him before I saw him, the exact sound of his quiet footsteps that I knew as well as my own breathing. I lay completely still, watching his shadow move across the dark room toward the bed. He pulled back the heavy blankets on his side and started to climb in.

I was out of the bed before he could even lie down.

I snatched the blanket, wrapping it tight around my chest as I scrambled back until my spine hit the wall. Angelo froze, half in and half out of the mattress, staring at me across the dark room with complete shock written all over his face.

"What are you doing?" I snapped, the words ripping out of me fast, It wasn't an act. Seeing him get into my bed produced real, frantic panic in my chest, lying this close to him.sill make me forget how he played me for a fool and I certainly do not want to forget.

"I live here," he said, speaking slowly and carefully, like he was trying not to scare me. "This is our bed, Adore."

"I don't remember anything, as far as I'm concerned, you are a stranger," I said, my voice shaking. "I don't know you. I don't remember anything except what you told me and I am here in this house because my parents confirmed that you are my husband but then, in my heart, you are just some stranger and I am not sharing a bed with a man I don't know." I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders. "Get out."

Angelo sat down on the edge of the mattress, staring at me pressed against the wall. The tough, controlled mask he always wore completely fell apart, leaving his face looking raw, exhausted, and hopelessly lost. He looked down at his big hands, then looked back up at me.

"Adore," he whispered, his throat tight.

"Please leave," I said, keeping my posture rigid.

"This is our room, we've slept together for years," he said, but his voice lacked any real bite. It was the voice of a man who knew he had already lost, but was saying the words anyway.

"And I am your wife who doesn't know who you are," I replied, meeting his eyes in the dark. "And I am asking you to leave."

He looked at me for a long, heavy moment.

The dark bedroom was dead silent.

Finally, he pushed himself up from the bed.

He reached down, picked up his pillow, and held it against his chest. He looked at my face one last time, but I kept my chin held high, wrapping the blanket tight around myself without backing down. He turned, walked toward the door, and stopped right before stepping out.

"There's a spare room at the end of the hall," he said softly, keeping his back to me. "If you need anything during the night."

"I won't need anything from you," I said.

Hurt flashed in his eyes but he gave a single, slow nod and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him. I stood frozen against the cold wall in the dark, listening to his heavy footsteps move down the long hallway, hearing another door open and softly close.

Finally, I slid back into the bed, pulled the covers up to my chin, and stared up into the pitch black. I thought about the four years I had spent lying in this exact bed, waiting for him to come home. I thought about the raw pain on Angelo's face when I told him to get out, the real, unedited agony he couldn't hide fast enough.

I pressed my lips tight together in the dark.

I wasn't sorry.

I wasn't going to let myself feel bad about it.

The old Adore would have melted and apologized immediately.

I wasn't her anymore.