Chapter 82: Freya's Secret Almost Breaks

Louis waited until Friday evening to ask the question he had been avoiding. Freya was sitting on the sofa reviewing narrator notes when he placed a cup of tea beside her.

"Can I ask you something?"

She looked up. "That sounds dangerous."

"What did you mean when you wrote 'original novel ending'?"

Everything inside Freya stopped.

Her face went completely still.

Louis immediately knew the notebook hadn't been metaphorical.

"You read my notebook?" she asked.

"No. It opened when I moved your charger. I saw several lines before you woke up."

Freya closed the document on her laptop.

For several seconds, she considered lying.

She could say it was planning for her own novel. She could claim she used real people as inspiration. She could invent something believable.

But Louis was watching her too carefully.

"It's complicated," she said.

"I assumed."

"And if I told you, you'd think I was insane."

"Try me."

Freya laughed nervously. "That's easy for you to say."

Louis sat opposite her. "I know something changed after the night you asked for a divorce. I know you suddenly had skills you never showed before. Sometimes you talk about yourself as though you're someone else."

Freya's fingers tightened around the laptop.

"I've never forced you to explain because whatever changed made you happier, more independent, and—" He paused. "It made our life better."

That was worse than suspicion. Kindness made the truth harder.

Freya looked at him. "What if I told you the Freya you married isn't exactly the person sitting here?"

Louis didn't move.

She had crossed the line. There was no completely safe way back.

"What does exactly mean?"

Freya's mouth went dry.

Then Louis's phone rang.

Derek.

For once, Freya nearly thanked the universe for terrible timing.

Louis ignored the first call. It rang again immediately.

That meant emergency.

He answered.

Derek's voice was loud enough that Freya heard part of it. "Victor Shaw disappeared."

Louis stood. "When?"

"Sometime this afternoon. His driver can't reach him. His phone is off, and someone cleared documents from his private office."

The confession vanished beneath a new crisis.

Louis looked at Freya after ending the call.

They both knew the conversation wasn't finished.

"Go," she said quietly.

"We'll talk when I get back."

Freya nodded.

After the door closed, she sank against the sofa.

She had nearly told him.

More frighteningly, part of her had wanted to.

Freya opened her notebook after Louis left and read the very lines he had accidentally seen. They looked incriminating even to her. She considered destroying the notebook, then rejected the idea. Erasing evidence of who she was wouldn't change the truth. If anything, Louis deserved an explanation eventually. She only needed enough courage to survive giving it.

The next step could wait until morning. Too many things had changed at once, and neither of them wanted to make another decision simply because uncertainty was uncomfortable. They had learned that patience often revealed more than pressure ever could.