CHAPTER 4

The Romano estate had changed much since the last time she was here or maybe it hadn’t. Maybe it was Elora who had changed, her silence heavier, her smiles tighter, her lies far more polished than the girl who used to walk these halls with a heart she hadn’t yet taught to hate. Now she was the woman who woke up at six to iron her grief into crisp shirts, who studied her husband’s every move like he might remember something sharp enough to ruin everything. The staff noticed, of course they did. They whispered behind crystal cutleries and turned their gazes quickly when she walked into rooms.

"Isn’t that the master's wife? The one from years ago? The one he forgot?", they whispered about her.

"Elora", Rosa, the older housekeeper, said one morning as she passed her in the hall, tone oddly gentle. "It’s good to have you back", she said with a small smile.

Elora just nodded, eyes focused ahead, shoulders drawn in, she wasn’t back at least not in the way Rosa thought she was, this was all just temporary, she was after all playing the part.

~~

Lionel found her on the terrace, the morning light painting gold into her dark hair. She wore a silk robe, untied at the collar, the breeze teasing the edges open just enough to make him pause.

"You’re always out here", he said, stepping into the soft morning light with a tray in his hands.

She looked at him, barefoot, shirt wrinkled, eyes clearer than they had been the day before, like the fog in his brain was lifting piece by piece. She hated how boyish he looked now, vulnerable, human. It wasn’t how she wanted to remember him.

"I made you breakfast," he said.

Elora raised a brow surprised, she hadn’t expected that.

"You… cooked?"

Lionel chuckled, setting the tray on the table. "No. I watched Mrs. Rosa do it and insisted on carrying it like a hero"

His charm was effortless, but there was something softer about him now. The edge she remembered was dulled, rounded by the coma, the painkillers, or the fragile amnesia that made him look at her like a stranger he wanted to know.

Elora eyed the contents; toast, eggs, two strawberries arranged like a heart, and tea, pale, almost golden, its scent already cloyingly sweet.

He gestured to the teacup. "I remembered something"

She lifted a brow, curious.

"You always added honey to your tea,” he said proudly. "Said sugar was too sharp"

Elora froze. She never took honey, never had, she didn't like the taste of it.

But she smiled as if it meant the world. "You remembered", she said softly.

She reached for the cup, cradling it between her palms like it was the most precious thing in the world.

"Thank you", she said softly, lifting the cup to her lips.

He sat beside her, gaze searching. "Have I always been this nervous around you?"

She didn’t answer.

~~

Later that day, he found her again in the library. She’d taken to hiding there, somewhere the staff rarely entered and where Lionel could only interrupt her by choice. But he came, he always seemed to be around her these days and Elora wasn't sure if she liked it or not.

"Elora", he said, voice low, like her name was made of glass.

She looked up from the book she wasn’t really reading. 'Hmm?"

He crossed the room slowly, something hesitant in his step, like he didn’t want to scare her. She hated how careful he was now.

"I’ve been trying to piece it all together", he said. "What we had, what I felt for you, I keep thinking… If I forgot everything, then maybe I forgot the best parts, too".

She watched him approach, her expression unreadable.

"You’ve been kind to me", he continued. "And I don’t know why, but I want to be good to you. Well, I mean, I know why, you're my wife but..."

Elora said nothing in response and they sat in silence for a few seconds.

"Like our wedding", Lionel spoke up, breaking the tense silence.

"Funny, I don't remember any of the wedding. What was it like?", he glanced at her.

"Was it beautiful?"

Elora smiled tightly. "It was unforgettable", she said and fell back into silence.

Lionel saw this and felt unsettled, he sat beside her on the velvet settee, too close..She froze. His hand brushed hers, gently, barely touching.

"You’re so quiet all the time", he whispered. "What did I do to you…?"

The words hit like a bruise.

Elora flinched, just enough for him to notice.

Lionel recoiled, guilt flickering in his eyes.

"Did I hurt you?", he asked, voice barely audible.

She stood up too quickly. "You should rest. Your physical therapist will be here soon"

"Elora-"

She walked out without looking back.

~~

Later, that night as they laid in bed, each of them on their side, Lionel turned once, twice, then again. He lay on his side, watching her back rise and fall. They always slept apart, him on the left, her on the right. A no-man’s-land of bed and tension stretched between them.

He couldn’t stop looking at her, Elora, his wife. She was beautiful, composed, almost delicate in how precisely she moved through the world. But there was something inside her he couldn’t name, something cold, something aching. He reached out before he could think. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. She stirred, turned slightly.

"I want to remember", he said softly, "even the bad parts, even how I touched you"

She held her breath.

"Talk to me, Elora…", his voice was hoarse.

She turned to him fully then, lips parting like she might speak but before she could answer, her phone vibrated on the nightstand. She picked it up and read the screen: 'Blocked number'.

She turned away and picked it up quickly, shielding the screen from view.

"Elora?" Lionel asked, sitting up slightly.

"I need to take this", she said, already slipping out of bed.

She stepped into the bathroom, locked the door behind her and pressed the phone to her ear.

A voice answered on the other end, low, smug, dangerous, her spine went rigid.

"Julian", she whispered.

"I see you’re enjoying the estate", he said dryly.

"What do you want?", she asked through gritted teeth.

His voice turned cold.

"It’s time. I held my part of the deal, now I want something in return"

Her fingers clenched the phone.

"You didn’t think this would be free, did you, Mrs. Romano?"

He hung up, leaving Elora standing alone in the darkness with her secrets.