My Wedding Photos Belonged To His First Love Chapter 02

My Wedding Photos Belonged To His First Love Chapter 02

When I got back to the penthouse, there was a white suitcase sitting in the entryway.

A baggage tag hung from the handle. The name on it was Lily Morgan.

I stood at the door and didn’t move for a long moment.

Derek came out of the kitchen holding a glass of warm water. “You’re back.”

I looked at the suitcase. “She’s staying here?”

He set the glass down on the table. “She has allergies. The hotel sheets were a mess. Just a couple nights.”

I laughed. “Our penthouse. You’re letting her stay for a couple of nights?”

Derek’s tone was flat. “The place is empty anyway.”

Empty.

I had overseen every detail of buying and renovating this apartment.

I revised the curtain color three times. I went to five different stores for the dining room light. I measured that photo wall on the balcony with my own hands.

And in his mouth, the place was just empty.

The master bedroom door was half open.

Lily’s voice drifted out. “Derek, where’s the hairdryer?”

I didn’t say anything. I pushed the door open and walked in.

She was sitting at the vanity. She was wearing a robe.

Lily stood up immediately. “Nora, I didn’t know this was yours. Margaret said the guest room wasn’t ready yet, so she told me to use this for now.”

Derek followed me in. His expression was tight. “She just got out of the shower. Don’t stand in the draft.”

I looked at him. “So she used my bathroom, wore my robe, and now she’s going to sleep in my bed?”

Lily’s eyes went red. “I can sleep on the couch.”

Derek said, “Your ankle is still swollen. Don’t push yourself.”

I asked, “Derek, then where do I sleep?”

He was quiet for two seconds. “Take the second bedroom tonight.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

Lily said quietly, “Maybe I should just go. Nora seems really upset.”

Derek glanced at me. “She’s a big girl. She’ll get over it.”

She’ll get over it.

He’d said those words so many times.

On my birthday, when he went to the airport to pick up Lily, all he said was, “You understand, right?”

When I had a hundred-and-three-degree fever and he took Lily to her gallery opening, he said, “I knew you’d be fine.”

The day I won my first major photography award, he went with Lily to a follow-up appointment. He said, “You don’t need me there. You never do.” I was what got set aside.

I walked to the vanity and picked up the photo frame.

Inside was the only picture of Derek and me together.

It had been taken at his mother’s urging, back when she was pressuring us to get engaged. A family member snapped it.

In the photo, my smile is careful. His face is half-turned away, his gaze somewhere else.

Now, next to the frame, there was a Polaroid.

Lily in my wedding gown, sitting on a seaside rock.

Derek was outside the frame. Only half of his hand was visible, holding her veil in place.

On the back, a line was written.

[Lily, a seaside wedding really does suit you best.]

The handwriting was Derek’s. My fingers stopped moving.

Derek saw the Polaroid and took it away. “The photographer must have stuffed it in there.”

I asked, “And the handwriting? Did the photographer do that, too?”

His brow furrowed deeper. “Jesus, Nora. Do you have to be so difficult?”

Lily was crying now. “Derek, don’t be mad at Nora. She’s about to marry you. It’s normal for her to be a little paranoid.”

She said it so gently.

Like a dull knife.

I looked at her. “Lily, you’ve got it wrong.”

She lifted her head.

“The one refusing to see the truth,” I said, “is the one who still wants to marry you.”

Derek’s gaze went cold. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I pulled the photo of the two of us out of the frame.

The edge was creased where the clasp had pressed into it.

I remembered Derek once told me he didn’t like having his picture taken. But Lily’s photos filled an entire room in his mind.

I folded the photo in half and put it in my bag.

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

Derek’s eyes were fixed on me. “The wedding goes on in ten days as planned.”

I pulled the door open.

His voice came from behind me. “Nora, don’t blow up this wedding just to prove something. You won’t like how that ends.”

I paused for a second but didn’t look back. The folded photo was inside my bag. It pressed against my chest, aching.