The wedding was held at a restored estate in the Virginia countryside, surrounded by white flowers, candlelight, and musicians playing soft classical music that made the night seem otherworldly.
There were too many men in dark suits standing silently at the edges, too many inconspicuous headsets, and too much security for what should have been a simple ceremony, and although I noticed every detail, I chose not to question it because I was blinded by what I felt for her.
Later that night, when we were finally alone in a large room with high ceilings and dim lighting, Eleanor slowly closed the door with trembling hands and placed a thick envelope along with a set of car keys on the table next to us.
“This is your wedding gift,” she said gently, trying to steady her voice as she spoke. “There’s a significant amount of money and a pickup truck registered in your name.”
I smiled uncomfortably and gently pushed the envelope back towards her because I wanted nothing but her presence in my life.
“I don’t need any of that,” I told her honestly. “Being with you is more than enough for me.”
He looked at me in a way that made my chest tighten, because his eyes were full of sadness, as if he were on the verge of something irreversible.
“My dear, before we move on, I need to tell you something important,” she said carefully, struggling to maintain her composure.
A shiver ran through me as I watched her slowly remove the shawl from her shoulders, and when my eyes fell on her left shoulder I froze completely.
There was a dark, circular birthmark with irregular edges, placed exactly where my mother had one that I had seen since childhood.
My hand trembled when I pointed at her, unable to process what I was seeing.
“That brand, why do you have the same one?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my efforts to remain calm.
Eleanor closed her eyes for a moment and took a small step back, as if preparing herself for what she was about to say.
“Because I can’t keep hiding this anymore,” she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of the truth.
At that moment the room stopped feeling like a place of celebration and began to feel like a trap closing in around me, and I realized that everything I believed in was about to collapse.
I didn’t sit down because my legs refused to obey me, while she sat down slowly on the edge of the bed as if years of silence had suddenly caught up with her.
“Twenty years ago I had a son,” he finally said, each word heavy and deliberate.
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