“I have never heard of that store,” Felicia admitted.
“Neither have I, and that is the whole point,” I said, feeling the panic rising again. “Callum has never mentioned that place, and we usually tell each other when we buy socks.”
I heard the bedsheets rustling on her end as she apparently sat upright in her bed. “Valerie, listen to me carefully because I know how your brain works when you get overwhelmed.”
“I am completely fine,” I claimed, trying to sound composed.
“Do not go back into that room and shake him awake in a panic,” she warned me.
“I was not going to do that,” I lied.
“You were absolutely going to do that,” she countered.
I laughed, but the sound came out forced and tight in my throat. “Okay, I admit that I was going to do that.”
“Ask him calmly after you have some coffee,” Felicia advised me patiently. “Do not accuse him of anything, just watch his face because Callum is a terrible liar, and you know he could not even keep our surprise party a secret.”
“Which is exactly why this is so weird,” I pointed out. “He cannot keep secrets, yet here we are dealing with one.”
“It means either it is something big and awful, or it is something big and not awful at all,” she said. “Both outcomes are completely possible right now.”
I stared down at the small key lying in my hand. It was far too small for a normal house door and seemed designed for a tiny lock, like a jewelry box or a small cash drawer.
“Felicia, what if I just married a man that I do not actually know?” I asked softly.
“You dated him for four long years, so you know who he is,” she insisted firmly.
“People manage to hide huge things for years all the time,” I argued.
“You know Callum,” she repeated with conviction.
“Maybe not this version of Callum,” I whispered back.
“Valerie, come on, you know it is not like him,” she said, trying to reassure me.
I wanted to believe her with all my heart. I wanted to walk back into that suite, slide beneath the warm covers, and pretend I had never checked the pockets of that tuxedo.
PART 3
“I cannot wait until we reach Costa Rica to ask him,” I said into the phone. “I cannot sit on a long flight with this sitting in my bag.”
“Then do not wait,” Felicia urged me gently. “But remember to ask him, not declare things.”
“Ask, do not declare,” I repeated to myself as a reminder.
“Exactly,” she confirmed through the receiver.
I nodded my head even though she could not see me through the phone line. “And Felicia?”
“Yeah, what is it?” she asked.
“Whatever the truth is, I will call you right after we talk,” I promised her.
“I do not care if you are crying or laughing, I just need to know you are okay,” she said.
“I promise I will call,” I said before hanging up the phone.
For a long moment, I remained standing in the empty hallway, holding the warm key in one hand and the receipt in the other while my new wedding ring caught the light overhead. Then I stood up straight and decided it was time to face my husband.
I slipped back into the quiet suite, easing the door shut with extreme care. Callum was already sitting up in the middle of the large bed, looking around the room.
His hair was sticking out in every direction, and he blinked at me sleepily before offering the lopsided smile that had won me over years ago. “There you are, because I woke up and found the bed cold, so where did you vanish to?”
“I went down to the ice machine,” I said, the lie slipping out of my mouth before I could stop it.
He raised one eyebrow in confusion as he looked at my hands. “You went to the ice machine wearing a robe with no ice bucket in sight?”
“I simply forgot to grab the bucket on my way out,” I claimed quickly.
“Uh-huh, if you say so,” he replied with a slight grin.
I tried to laugh, but the sound came out far too high and strained. My hand remained buried deep inside my robe pocket, holding the key and note tightly.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door as room service arrived with breakfast. I had ordered coffee earlier, and I was deeply grateful for the interruption because it gave me a moment to breathe.
We sat across from each other at the small table with hot coffee between us. I tried to act like a normal person who was not silently falling apart inside.
Callum buttered a warm croissant as if nothing in the world was wrong. “So,” I began casually, “did you remember to empty your tuxedo pockets last night, since it needs to go to the cleaner?”
“Yeah, I took care of it last night, so everything is all good,” he answered smoothly.
“Are you completely sure about that?” I pressed further.
He looked up from his plate with a puzzled expression. “Valerie, I checked them myself, so the vow book and hotel key are taken care of.”
My chest tightened as I listened to his confident answer. “That is weird, because I found something else in there this morning.”
Callum stopped chewing his food instantly, and I watched his face carefully for any reaction. “I found a receipt from a place called Sterling & Sons,” I added.
The change in his expression was subtle, just a quick blink and a slight tightening around his jawline. It was not exactly guilt, but he definitely looked guarded.
I placed the tiny key, the handwritten note, and the receipt on the table between our coffee cups. Callum became completely still as his eyes fell upon the items.
He did not reach out to touch them. He simply looked at them for a long moment, then raised his eyes to meet mine with a serious look.
I watched him do that familiar thing where he chose his words with extreme care, as if every syllable mattered. “Okay,” he said very quietly.
“Okay?” I repeated, feeling my frustration rise.
“Valerie, I need you to trust me for just six more hours until we reach the airport,” he requested softly.
“Six hours?” I asked, unable to hide my disbelief.
“Yes, just six hours,” he repeated calmly.
“Callum, we have been married for less than half a day,” I pointed out.
“I know how long we have been married,” he said softly.
“We share phone passwords and bank accounts, and now you want me to sit on a secret for six hours?” I demanded.
“Yes, please, sweetheart,” he asked, looking directly into my eyes.
I stared at him across the table, feeling a wave of confusion. He did not look like a man who had been caught doing something terrible, but rather like someone who was hurt that I doubted him.
“Who is R?” I asked directly.
“Valerie, please,” he groaned softly.
“Who is she?” I insisted, leaning forward.