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Chapter 6 - The Past He Buried

The morning sun slipped gently through the curtains, brushing Elena's face with a soft glow. She opened her eyes slowly, her body still heavy from sleep. For the first time since the wedding, she hadn't dreamed of the boardroom or the contract. Instead, she dreamed of music — a piano playing somewhere far away, the notes warm and sad.

She sat up, brushing her hair away from her face. A quiet knock came at the door.

"Come in," she said.

Mrs. Carter stepped in, carrying a breakfast tray. "Good morning, dear. You must be tired after last night's event."

Elena smiled faintly. "A little. It was… different."

The older woman chuckled softly. "You handled yourself well. Everyone in the staff has been talking about how elegant you looked."

"That's kind of them," Elena said. She took a sip of orange juice, then looked at the woman curiously. "Mrs. Carter, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, dear."

"Mr. Knight… he doesn't talk much about himself, does he?"

Mrs. Carter hesitated. "No, not really. He keeps his life private. Always has."

"Was he always like that?"

The housekeeper sighed quietly. "No, not always. He used to be different. Happier, I think. But things changed after—" She stopped herself suddenly, her lips tightening. "I'm sorry, dear. It's not my place to speak about the past."

Elena's curiosity grew stronger, but she didn't push further. "I understand."

After Mrs. Carter left, Elena couldn't stop thinking about it. After what? What had happened to Alexander that turned him into the man she now lived with — the one who looked strong on the outside but carried something broken inside?

Later that afternoon, she decided to take a walk around the garden. The air was warm and filled with the scent of roses. She stopped by the fountain, watching the water fall in soft streams. For a while, she forgot everything — the contract, the tension, even her doubts.

Then she heard voices coming from the far side of the garden. One was Daniel's. The other… Alexander's.

She couldn't hear their words clearly, but their tones were sharp. She stepped a little closer, hiding behind the tall rose bushes.

"…I told you, Daniel, I'm not interested in reopening those files," Alexander said firmly.

"Sir, the board wants to know if you'll attend the memorial this year," Daniel replied. "It's been three years—"

"No," Alexander cut in coldly. "Drop the subject."

There was a long silence before Daniel said quietly, "She was important to you, wasn't she?"

Alexander's voice lowered. "That's exactly why I won't go back there."

Then he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading toward the house.

Elena stayed frozen behind the bushes, her mind spinning. Memorial? She? Who was the woman they were talking about?

---

That evening, she couldn't concentrate on dinner. Alexander sat opposite her, as usual, calm and unreadable. The silence between them felt heavier than before.

Finally, she set down her fork. "Can I ask you something?"

He looked up. "Go ahead."

"Who was she?"

His expression didn't change, but his eyes darkened slightly. "Who?"

"The person you lost."

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant. "You shouldn't listen to things that aren't meant for you, Elena."

"I didn't mean to," she said softly. "I just… want to understand you."

"There's nothing to understand," he replied coldly.

"Maybe there is," she whispered. "Maybe that's why you hide behind all these walls."

His jaw tightened. "Be careful, Elena."

She swallowed hard. "I'm not trying to upset you. I just—"

"Enough," he said sharply, standing from the table. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that silenced her. "The past is gone. It doesn't concern you."

And with that, he walked out, leaving her alone in the quiet dining room.

---

Elena sat there for a long time, staring at his empty chair. Her heart hurt — not from his words, but from the pain she had seen flicker across his face. It wasn't anger. It was sorrow.

Later that night, she found herself wandering again. Her feet led her to the piano room. The lights were dim, and the air smelled faintly of rain.

She walked to the piano and sat down, her fingers brushing the keys. Slowly, she began to play — a soft, simple melody she remembered from her childhood.

The sound filled the room, gentle and sad. She didn't notice when the door opened behind her.

Alexander stood there, silent, watching her.

When she stopped, she turned and gasped slightly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't—"

"You play," he said quietly.

"Just a little," she murmured. "Music helps me think."

He walked closer, stopping beside the piano. "That was a song she used to play."

Elena's heart skipped. "The woman from the memorial?"

He nodded slowly. "Her name was Sophia. She was my fiancée."

Her lips parted in surprise. "I didn't know…"

"You weren't supposed to," he said softly. "It happened three years ago. A car accident. She was gone before help arrived."

He ran a hand through his hair, his voice lower now. "After that, I stopped everything — the music, the laughter, all of it. The company was the only thing that made sense anymore."

Elena's eyes softened. "I'm sorry."

He looked at her then, and for the first time, there was no wall between them — just quiet pain. "Don't be. It was my fault. I was supposed to be there that night."

She wanted to reach out, to touch his hand, to tell him it wasn't his fault. But she didn't. She just whispered, "You've been punishing yourself ever since."

His eyes met hers, filled with something fragile. "Maybe."

The silence that followed wasn't cold anymore. It was tender — like two souls quietly understanding each other's scars.

After a moment, he said, "Go to bed, Elena."

She nodded. "Goodnight, Alexander."

"Goodnight."

As she walked back to her room, she felt her heart ache for him. The man who had built walls to survive — and the woman trying, slowly, to see beyond them.

That night, as the rain began to fall again, Elena knew one thing for

sure: she wasn't just living in a contract anymore. She was living inside a story that was starting to change both their hearts.

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