He Doesn’t Recognize Me

The proof of a broken marriage was written all over the Blackwood mansion.

Separate schedules pinned to a corkboard, a stack of clipped, formal messages between Vivian and Adrian discussing household matters like business associates rather than spouses. No warmth anywhere. No shared photographs beyond the wedding portraits.

Vivian had treated Adrian badly. Whatever this marriage had been, it wasn't affection. It was two people living together out of obligation, nothing more.

The marriage was exactly what the rumors had claimed.

And yet Victoria couldn't stop thinking about the other Adrian — the one who had knelt in the snow, sobbing, holding her dearly.

“Was that real? Or did I imagine it in the last seconds before I died?” She said in a low tone, biting her fingers. 

She went downstairs that morning for breakfast prepared to face him.

Adrian was already seated, newspaper in hand, Victoria sat across from him quietly, thanked the server who stood by the dining area, “Maria, you may leave. Thank you.” and reached out to serve herself

Adrian's eyes lifted from the paper.

"Since when do you like that?"

Victoria kept her voice steady. “People change.”

He stared at her, then returned to his phone without another word. But she felt the weight of his attention like a hand on the back of her neck.

Victoria's fork paused halfway to her mouth. She hasn’t thought about it this way, that eight years of marriage meant Adrian knew Vivian's habits down to the smallest detail.

"Okay fine, I’ve just been craving things I don’t usually like lately," she said.

During breakfast, Maria mistakenly placed Vivian’s favorite flower in the wrong position, to Adrian’s surprise, she didn't snap at her for arranging the flowers wrong.

Instead, she asked questions that had nothing to do with any of that.

"How many generators does the estate have?"

Adrian glanced up from his desk, clearly caught off guard. "Why?"

"Just curious." Victoria kept her tone light. "And the water storage… is it connected to the main line, or independent?"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You've never once asked me about the estate's infrastructure in eight years of marriage."

Victoria forced a small shrug, her heart hammering. "Maybe I'm developing new interests."

Adrian didn't answer. 

By late afternoon he had enough.

He found her in the study, standing in front of a window that looked out over the city. He closed the door behind him with a soft click.

“What happened to you?”

Victoria turned. “Nothing.”

"That's the problem." Adrian crossed his arms, his voice sharp. "Nothing happened, and yet you act like a completely different person."

Victoria met his gaze, unable to stop herself. "Do you prefer the old version of me?"

Something flickered across his face. "I preferred knowing what to expect from her." His voice was flat. "At least her cruelty was predictable. For almost 2 days, you haven’t yelled at me or the staff. You thank Maria for preparing a meal, which is her duty by the way…. You look at me like you’re trying to solve a puzzle.”

The conversation shocked Victoria, making her wonder what Vivian did to create such an impression and what Adrian had done in return.

She was still turning that thought over when her eyes caught on the side of his neck. “Your neck,” she said before she could stop herself. “It used to…”

Adrian went completely still.

"How do you know about that scar?"

Victoria's blood went cold. Vivian had never seen that scar, it was hidden beneath his collar, old, faded.

For a woman who barely touched her husband, how did she know about the scar?

Victoria’s fingers tightened. She didn’t know how she knew about the scar. She simply remembered seeing it.

"I… someone mentioned it," she said quickly, looking away. "I don't remember who."

Adrian's eyes stayed fixed on her, unconvinced. She left before he would ask anything else.

Later that evening Victoria saw a side of him she didn’t expect.

One of the younger staff members had broken a painting while cleaning it. The girl was crying, clearly expecting punishment.

In her first life Victoria had watched people say how Adrian punishes his staff for little mistakes, some people said he deserved how Vivian treats him. 

To her surprise, Adrian only looked at the broken pieces, then at the girl’s terrified face.

“Clean it up,” he said quietly. “And be more careful next time. If you’re tired, rest and continue your work later.”

The girl stared at him in shock, then nodded and fled.

Victoria stood in the hallway, unseen. The ruthless Blackwood heir she had been taught to fear had just shown unexpected mercy to someone.

What she witnessed did not match the monster the world whispered about. It also did not match the cold husband who looked at her weirdly.

She no longer knew which version of him was real. “Who are you, really?” She said to herself.

That night Adrian stood across the living room and watched her without speaking, with a glass of untouched whiskey, his expression harder to read.

He wasn't simply suspicious anymore. The difficult Vivian Blackwood isn’t whom he is seeing. He has never spent 24hrs without Vivian lashing out at him or someone else, 

“It’s been what? Two days and no fight? This is strange?” He mumbled.

Meanwhile Victoria innocently sat down in the kitchen, laughing softly at something one of the staff said.

Adrian set his glass down slowly, his gaze never leaving her.

Whoever was sitting in his wife's chair, wearing his wife's face, speaking with his wife's voice… She wasn't Vivian. It felt as if the wife he married simply vanished.

And against his better judgment, he was becoming curious about the stranger who had taken her place, for the first time since the day he married her, Adrian found himself wanting to know exactly who she really was.

“I’ll get to the root of this,” he picked up his phone and went upstairs.