Seated in a secluded corner of the castle, away from the laughter and the clinking of wine glasses, he booted up his computer. The screen came alive, and he quickly navigated to a set of photographs from a wedding he’d shot just a couple of months ago. His eyes widened as he found what he was looking for. “This… this can’t be”, he stuttered.
His first impulse was to confront Anna. “She deserves to know”, he thought, “even if the truth shatters this perfect day into a thousand imperfect pieces”. But as he rose, laptop in hand, a question stopped him cold: “What if I’m wrong?”.
Oliver hesitated, torn between his conscience and the festering doubt that wouldn’t let him be. Just as he was about to step into the swirl of jubilant faces and reach Anna, she gracefully exited the crowd, disappearing into a smaller room, away from the wedding attendees. It was now or never.
Taking a deep breath to steady his racing heart, he followed her into the quieter space. As his hand hovered over the door handle, he felt like he was holding not just a piece of metal, but something that could change many lives, including his own. “Here goes nothing”, he muttered under his breath, and pushed the door open.
The door creaked softly as Oliver entered the room, its sound barely a whisper against the haunting melody of a distant violin that seeped through the walls. The room was dimly lit, with light from a hallway chandelier making shadows on the floor. The air felt heavy, like something big was about to happen, good or bad.
Anna stood by the window, her silhouette framed by the eveninglight, creating an ethereal tableau. She seemed deep in thought, staring at the sky. Maybe she was thinking about big things, or maybe just about her new life as a married person
Oliver’s heart pounded in his chest like a drumbeat out of sync with the rest of the world. The room felt both cavernous and claustrophobic as he took a hesitant step forward. His voice trembled as he broke the silence: “Anna, may I have a moment? There’s something I need to tell you.”
She turned around, and in the soft light, her face was a landscape of emotions. Surprise at his interruption, curiosity about his solemn tone, and something else, perhaps a flicker of intuitive understanding that what he was about to say was no small matter.
“Of course,” she said, her voice as soft as the light around them. “But let me catch my breath first; today has been overwhelming.” Her laughter was uneasy, a subtle acknowledgment that the room was charged with an unspoken intensity.