Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN HE SAID HE DIDN’T KNOWClaire did not run.
That surprised Adrian.
It surprised many of the guests too.
She simply turned toward the officiant and said:
“Please give us the room behind the ballroom.”
Then she looked at Elena.
“Come with me.”
Adrian stepped down from the altar.
“Claire, no.”
She turned.
“If you touch me right now, security will remove you from my family’s hotel.”
That stopped him.
Julian Beaumont was already moving.
At thirty-seven, Julian had inherited their father’s habit of becoming quieter as he became angrier.
He positioned himself between Adrian and the two women.
“Stay here.”
Adrian’s expression darkened.
“You don’t tell me what to do.”
Julian looked around.
“Actually, inside this hotel, I can.”
Claire and Elena walked toward a private bridal suite.
Elena moved carefully, one hand against her belly.
Claire noticed.
Whatever else happened tonight, the woman was very pregnant.
Very tired.
And very real.
Once the door closed, Claire took off her veil.
She placed it on a chair.
Then turned.
“How long?”
Elena swallowed.
“Almost eighteen months.”
Claire felt the room tilt.
She had been engaged to Adrian for fourteen.
“How did you meet?”
“A hospital fundraiser in Providence.”
“What does he tell you he does?”
“He said he works in private investments.”
True enough.
“Married?”
“He said no.”
“Engaged?”
Elena’s eyes filled.
“He said he’d been in a serious relationship years ago but it ended.”
Claire looked away.
“So he told you I didn’t exist.”
“Yes.”
“And what did he tell you this week?”
“That he was in Boston meeting investors.”
Elena gave a hollow laugh.
“He kissed me Wednesday morning and said he’d be home Sunday.”
Claire’s stomach tightened.
Wednesday morning, Adrian had called her from what he said was Logan Airport.
He told Claire:
“Just one last meeting before wedding madness.”
At the time she laughed.
Now she understood.
He had not been at airport.
He had been leaving another woman.
Claire forced her voice steady.
“Why did you come?”
Elena opened handbag and removed phone.
“A friend of mine works catering events.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Monica Reyes. She saw wedding prep yesterday. She recognized Adrian from pictures on my phone.”
Elena showed message.
ELENA, CALL ME NOW.
Then a screenshot of hotel’s public wedding event listing.
BEAUMONT–WHITMORE WEDDING
Elena continued:
“I thought there had to be another Adrian Whitmore.”
She unlocked photos.
“But then Monica sent this.”
It was a photo of groom’s portrait displayed near reception.
Adrian.
Same smile.
Same tuxedo fitting Claire had attended.
Elena whispered:
“I spent twelve hours convincing myself not to come.”
“Why did you?”
“My daughter.”
Claire looked at belly.
“Girl?”
Elena nodded.
“Adrian calls her Sophie.”
Claire shut eyes.
Adrian’s grandmother had been Sophie.
He once told Claire he wanted that name if they had daughter.
He had apparently been building two futures from same material.
Elena opened gallery.
The first picture showed Adrian on a couch beside her, hand across her stomach.
Second:
Adrian assembling a crib.
Third:
Adrian standing in a small apartment kitchen holding ultrasound photo.
Metadata months old.
Claire sat.
“Could these be edited?”
“No.”
“I have originals.”
Elena didn’t sound offended.
She understood.
Claire needed evidence.
“Messages?”
Elena handed phone.
Claire scrolled.
I miss my girls.
Business is insane, but everything I’m doing is for our future.
After Boston, things change. I promise.
A photo Adrian sent Elena while supposedly on bachelor weekend with Julian.
The timestamp matched.
Claire felt anger become colder.
More useful.
She looked at Elena.
“Did you know about my family?”
“No.”
“He told me you were a client?”
Elena blinked.
“How did you know?”
Claire laughed once.
Because that was exactly what Adrian called Claire when Elena apparently saw her name on his phone.
“What else did he say about me?”
Elena looked embarrassed.
“That you were difficult.”
Claire almost smiled.
“Of course.”
“That you inherited a hotel company and needed financial restructuring.”
“He said he was helping you.”
Claire nodded slowly.
Adrian had constructed an explanation for every possible overlap.
Then Elena said:
“I’m not here to take him from you.”
Claire looked up.
“I don’t want him.”
“I wanted him fifteen minutes ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
Claire believed that apology.
It wasn’t satisfaction.
It was grief.
Outside the door, Adrian raised his voice.
“Claire! Let me in!”
Elena flinched.
Claire noticed.
“What?”
Elena looked toward door.
“He gets angry when he loses control.”
Claire’s chest tightened.
“Has he hurt you?”
“No.”
“Threatened?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“He says things.”
“What things?”
“That nobody would believe me if I made accusations because I’m emotional.”
Claire stared.
The same word Adrian had used less than ten minutes ago.
Confused.
Elena wiped her cheek.
“I thought he was worried about stress and baby.”
Claire stood.
“Stay here.”
She opened door.
Adrian was waiting.
His face relaxed when he saw her.
“Thank God.”
Claire looked at him.
“What is Elena Hart’s middle name?”
He froze.
“Why?”
“If you don’t know her, you won’t know.”
Adrian said nothing.
Elena’s voice came from behind Claire.
“Marie.”
Claire watched his eyes.
Recognition.
Adrian whispered:
“This is insane.”
May you like
“No,” Claire said.
“This is finally becoming very simple.”
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