49: He died…

That evening, when Khana left Kharl's room, she found herself  alone in the master bedroom. Richard had gone for an emergency meeting, and somehow the curtain of silence fell heavily on her chest.

 There being no sign of Richard returning, she began wandering around the house until she came into their son's nursery—the nursery they had lovingly prepared for their child. But even amidst the soft pastel shades and comforting lullaby toys here, she could not shake off the unease.    

Instead of going to bed in the marital bed, Khana opted to retire to Kharl's room, the baby's room. She lay down on the small, decorative bed and tried to calm herself, but she couldn't sleep, and so the endless night dragged along.

And yet, as time passed by, there was no Richard in view. The ticking of the clock sounded more ominous, pointing directly at her mind to what had unraveled between them. Khana rolled restlessly to the other side, as feelings of restlessness and being on edge flew over her.

Finally, she succumbed to the nagging curiosity eating away inside her. 

"Right, I haven't opened the safe yet.." she mumbled.

He was always guarding that thing, and often enough, she had wondered what might be inside. What could it be that was so very critical for him to lock away from her?

She couldn't resist anymore. The next thing she knew, Khana was standing right in front of the safe; her fingers traced the metal chilled to the bone. With that, her mind began racing with all sorts of different possibilities, each one a little darker than the last. She told herself it was just a hunch, that she was probably just overthinking everything. But something inside of her was pushing her to try to open it.

Combinations she tried for hours, with each one ending in failure. Her frustration was finally beginning to well over onto the verge of giving up when there was a soft click—the sound of the lock disengaging.

Khana gasped, her heart pounding, and carefully opened the safe. Much paperwork, but on top of that, some photographs. They were old, worn out, and seemed to carry a heavy load. She carefully picked up a handful of them, her eyes traversing faded pictures and yellowed newspaper clippings that came with them.

"Why would he keep this?" she said aloud to herself, her voice trembling as her fingers floated through the images. They showed scenes of tragedy—accidents and grieving families with names she never recognized. But then, flipping through the stack, her breath caught in her throat.

Among those names was one: Henry.

Khana's heart came into her chest as she drew out the newspaper cutting with Henry inscribed at the top. Her fingers shook as she read: "Local Priest Dies in Tragic Car Accident."

"No," she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. "It can't be real." Her eyes welled up with tears as she remained focused on the picture accompanying the article. It was Henry, the man she once loved, the man who had promised her the world when they were young.

Her mind reeled with wild thoughts. How could this have gone by her? Why did Richard not tell her all of this? Anger and confusion welled up as she dropped the photographs to the floor, no longer able to hold them in her hands.

The door creaked open, and Khana spun around to find Richard standing there, his face a mixture of shock and fright. His eyes dropped down onto the photographs scattered all over the floor, and immediately he knew what she had discovered.

"How did you—" Richard's voice faltered as he stepped closer.

Khana's hands clenched into fists as her body began to tremble emotionally. "Care to explain?" she insisted, her tone sharp and cold. "Why do you have pictures with Henry's name on them? Why does it say he died?"

Richard was silent again, grasping for the right words. A deep breath, his eyes full of both guilt and desperation: "Let me explain, Honey. It's not what you think."

Khana's eyes narrowed, and she stepped closer to him; her eyes never left his.

"As you should. I thought the only thing you kept from me was deceiving me into marrying you. I didn't know you were hiding something even darker. Why are you so insecure about this? What has this got to do with a priest, someone who tied his life to serving the church?"

Richard swallowed hard and took a step closer to her. "It wasn't my fault," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was an accident."

"Accident?" Khana echoed again, disbelief in every word. "You better tell me the truth. Divorce is just a pen away."

The threat of divorce seemed to pierce through Richard's defenses. His face paled, and he took a step back, shaking his head. "No, no. Don't ever mention divorcing me. I've done everything I could so we could be together, so we could be a family. Please, Khana, you have to believe me."

Khana stared at him, trying to process her thoughts. "Did you… did you have someone follow him?"

Slowly, Richard nodded, his eyes cast down. "I did. I was so scared that if you saw him again, you might…you might change your mind about us. I only want to ensure not even his shadow could show up on the day of our wedding."

Khana's breath caught in her throat. She had known Richard was protective, maybe a little possessive, but she had never thought he would go this far. Yet, underneath her anger, she felt the sting of guilt. She had done this—her indecision, her lingering feelings for Henry—it had goaded Richard to this point.

"What happened to him?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Is he... Is he dead?"

Richard's eyes filled with regret as he spoke. "The car fell off a cliff and exploded shortly after. That's what I was told."

Khana buckled at the knees and stumbled backward, her hand over her mouth as a tear coursed down her cheek. "How come I never heard about this? Why wasn't it in the news?"

"I blocked everything," Richard confessed. "I didn't want you to find out. You were pregnant. I couldn't risk your health."

It all crashed down on her, and suddenly the room felt too small, too suffocating. It was heartbreaking enough to discover that her former lover had devoted his life to the church, unable to fulfill his promise of marriage when they were little. But, hearing the demise of the priest was like a bomb, she couldn't have imagined there was no longer a chance to reconcile with him.

She gasped for breath, her eyes blurring as the room spun wildly about her. "H-Honey!" Richard's voice was far away, panicked, but she could not reply.