Chapter 5 The Weight of Grief

Adrian was standing in the hallway, his hands so firmly clinched that his knuckles were becoming white, staring at the closed door to his room. He was holding his third half-empty bottle of whiskey tonight, but he was unable to find the numbness he was seeking. A tornado of memories, rage, and excruciating pain filled his thoughts.

Victoria.

Just the name tore at his chest, each idea piercing it more deeply like a sharp dagger. His sister had been his dearest friend, his source of light, and the one person he could always rely on. She had supported him through everything, including the loss of their dad and the challenges of growing up with their family's legacy bearing down on him. As his confidante, she was the only person who really understood him.

And now she was gone.

Taken from him in the blink of an eye.

He had been devastated the night she died, and he had never been the same. He is not capable of being. He felt like he was falling farther and further into a black pit every day because the weight of her departure was too much to bear.

He took a big sip from the bottle, not noticing the alcohol's burn at all. That evening was all he could think about. The gathering. The chuckles. The tunes. And then there was just mayhem. After spending hours with Lena, Victoria had been there, grinning and laughing, and suddenly she had passed away.

And Lena... Lena ruined everything, his sister, and his heart.

His jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together as his thoughts circled back to her. Lena, the girl he had once thought he loved, the girl he had trusted with his sister's life. And yet, she was the one who had been with Victoria when everything went wrong. The one who claimed to remember nothing.

How could she forget?

The sound of his footsteps echoed through the empty house as he stalked down the hallway, his thoughts a storm of anger and confusion. He had married her, thinking he could somehow cope -God, he had married her. And yet, every time he looked at her, all he could see was the shadow of Victoria's death.

When Adrian finally arrived at the drawing room entrance, the thick oak door stood in front of him like a wall separating him from the information he so sorely wanted. For a few minute, his hand lingered over the doorknob, his chest constricting with anger and exasperation.

What was she hiding?

Lena, who was sitting by the window with a book in her hands, was startled when he gave the door a forceful shove and it banged loudly against the wall. Her head sprang up, and she gazed at him, her eyes wide with shock and dread. The sight of her dread gave Adrian a terrible sort of delight. She ought to feel terrified.

"Adrian?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

His gaze narrowed on her, his lips curling into a sneer. "You need to tell me what happened that night," he murmured, his voice low almost as if he was begging her.

Lena's face paled, her fingers clutching the book tightly as if it could protect her from the storm that was coming. "I haven't-"

"Don't lie to me!" Adrian's voice rose, filling the room with the force of his anger. He took a step closer to her, watching as she instinctively shrank back. The sight only fueled his rage. "You've been hiding the truth about what happened to Victoria. I know you have."

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she shook her head. "I don't remember anything from that night, Adrian. I've told you-"

"I don't want your excuses!" He moved toward her, his presence looming larger, more threatening. "You were there, Lena. That night. You were the last person to see her alive, and yet you claim you don't remember anything? Do you think I'm a fool?" He slammed his fist against the wall, the impact sending a jolt of pain through his hand, but it was nothing compared to the agony twisting inside him.

Lena's breath hitched, her eyes wide with panic as she tried to reach for him. "Adrian, please, I would never hurt her. You have to believe me."

"Believe you?" Adrian let out a bitter, humorless laugh, his eyes dark with disbelief. "Every day," Adrian continued, his voice low and dangerous, "I live with the knowledge that she's gone, and every day, I see you here, alive, acting as if you're innocent. But I know you're hiding something, Lena. I can feel it."

"I'm not hiding anything!" Lena's voice broke as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I loved Victoria. She was my best friend I would never-"

"Stop!" Adrian's voice was a roar now, his emotions spiraling out of control. His hands shook as he took another step closer to her, towering over her. "You don't get to talk about loving her. You don't get to say her name."

The grief that clawed at his chest every day since Victoria's death threatened to choke him. He was drowning in it, and every time he looked at Lena, it only pulled him deeper. She was supposed to be his wife, but all he could see was betrayal. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was Victoria's lifeless body, and the questions that haunted him-the questions Lena refused to answer.

Lena sobbed, shaking her head desperately. "I don't know anything. I swear, Adrian, I don't remember."

"The one person who can give me answers just happens to have amnesia." Adrian growled, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as he fought to keep control of his emotions.

Lena's tears fell faster, her whole body trembling with the force of her sobs. "I'm sorry," she cried. "I'm so sorry, Adrian."

"Sorry?" He scoffed, the word bitter on his tongue. "Sorry, don't bring her back, Lena. Sorry doesn't change anything. You were with her. You were supposed to protect her."

Her knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, her face buried in her hands as she sobbed uncontrollably. Adrian stood over her, his chest heaving with a mixture of fury and grief. He wanted to yell at her, to demand answers, but all he could do was watch as she crumbled before him.

For a moment, he almost felt pity for her, seeing her so broken and vulnerable. But then the image of Victoria's lifeless body flashed through his mind, and the anger surged back, stronger than ever.

"I can't look at you," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't stand the sight of you. I can't do this anymore," Adrian finally said, his voice quiet but hard. His eyes were cold, devoid of any warmth or compassion. "I don't want to see your face, Lena. Not until you decide to tell me the truth."

Lena began to sob more loudly, her body trembling from the intensity. Adrian's heart twisted terribly inside his chest, but he buried any potential sympathy by pushing it down. It was not something he could afford to feel for her. Not while layers of falsehoods and deceit still covered up the truth.

Adrian turned and left the room without saying anything more, leaving Lena sobbing on the ground. He forced himself not to look back, even though he could hear the echo of her sobbing following him down the corridor. He was unable to. Not with his sister's death so fresh in his mind, keeping him from sleeping.

---

Later that night, Adrian sat in his study, staring at an old photograph of him and Victoria. They were teenagers then, both of them laughing, her arm slung over his shoulders as if they didn't have a care in the world. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Victoria had always been the best part of his life. She was the light in their family, the one who kept him grounded, who made everything feel bearable. Without her, the world felt darker, emptier.

"I should have been there," he whispered to himself, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I should have protected you."

But he hadn't been there. He hadn't been able to save her. And now, all he had left were questions and a woman who claimed to remember nothing.

Adrian set the photograph down and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as the weight of his grief pressed down on him. He didn't know how to move forward, how to find peace when everything in his life felt so wrong.

All he knew was that he needed answers.

And until Lena gave them to him, he would never stop searching.

-

For what seemed like hours, Lena sat in the dark, her tears eventually ceasing, but the pain in her chest persisted. She was at a loss for what to do. She seemed to be pushing Adrian farther away each time she made an attempt to connect with him and close the distance between them.

In an attempt to control her breathing, she brought her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead against them. No matter how hard she tried, the shadow of Victoria's death lingered in her memories. Adrian was correct; despite being the last person to have seen Victoria alive, she was at a loss for answers. Though the facts remained as much of a mystery, she wanted to provide him with the closure he needed.

"I'm sorry," Lena whispered to the empty room, her voice hoarse from crying. "I'm so sorry, Adrian."

But she knew, deep down, that her apology meant nothing. Not without the truth.