Reed didn’t hesitate and strode right in.
Better you than me.
“Trevor said they didn’t have a chance to go through her room before he showed up, right?” Reed asked. “Room looks untouched.”
“Yeah,” I murmured, still stuck near the threshold. “That’s what he told Ryder.”
“Well, are you just gonna stand there like a depressing shadow?” he muttered before disappearing into the closet.
Right.I forced myself to move farther into the room, though every step felt like I was trespassing.
I spotted a box tucked away in front of the window. Scissors had been discarded on the floor beside it. Half a glass of wine waited on her dresser with an open record player nearby.
What were you doing before they showed up? Unpacking?
I crossed to the dresser and picked up a framed photo, and I couldn’t stop the grin from forming at the sight.
You have a photo of me in your bedroom.Okay, technically it was a picture of my team, with Ryder and Chase front and center. But there I was in the background, profile visible.
I’d spent maybe five days in total around Audrey since we met at Christmas, but never one-on-one. No deep talks. No personal confessions. Just casual hangouts, light and easy.
Nothing feels remotely light or easy now.
The second Reed stepped out of the closet, I returned the photo to its place, careful not to knock over the wine, then turned toward him.
He went straight for the box on the floor and lifted it onto the bed.
“I think she was going through that when they showed up.” I nodded toward the wineglass, then the record player. “That box feels personal. Something she’d been putting off.”
“How do you know?” Reed asked, peeling back the flaps as I joined him by her bed.
“Just a hunch.” But in truth, as someone who had a box orthreemyself, I could relate. Mine were in a storage unit in DC, and unlike Audrey, I had no plans to ever take a look at what was inside.
“Mitch’s stuff. Maybe it’s in here,” Reed said while picking up an envelope. “Shit.”
“What is it?”
“Divorce papers,” he shared, and the pressure in my chest built. “Only her signature. Dated shortly before his plane went down last year.”
You were going to leave him? What’d the bastard do to you?And no, I didn’t feel guilty calling him that. Not now. Not if he was a traitor like Beth. And especially not if Audrey had wanted out of her marriage.This changes things.I erected a mental wall before I let that thought take root and grow.No, itdoesn’tchange things, because I’m not allowed to feel anything for her.
“Ryder never mentioned this.” He slid the papers into the envelope and picked up a small ring-size box and opened it next, revealing a plain wedding band. “You think Mitch was the guy Trevor’s made him out to be?”
“The divorce papers don’t help his case. From the looks of it, she filed, not him. Still, the timing of this whole thing is off.”
I removed the band from the box and turned the weight of it between my fingers.
A symbol of commitment. Of promises. Something I’d lost faith in and, clearly, Audrey had as well.
We really did have more in common than I could process right now.
I closed my eyes and let the wedding band drop fully into my palm, then curled my fingers around it.
“What are you doing?”
“Something’s not right.” I opened my eyes to take a closer look at it.
There was a subtle ridge along the inside. Muscle memory kicked in, and my fingers moved on instinct. A narrow groove slid open, revealing a laser-etched strip of numbers, thin and precise. A sliver of code was hidden within the band.
