The Hidden Wardrobe

The Hidden Wardrobe

“Even so, you have to admit that this is too much for someone who doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

I don’t answer.

Because I have no answer.

The truth is, I don’t know if this is the kind of treatment he gives his conquests.

“I don’t think you’re seeing how much care he’s taking with you.”

Claire gets up and walks toward the wall beside the bed, near the bathroom.

Just when I start wondering if she’s hallucinating, she presses her hand against the wall.

It opens. A door!

I stare at it. Then I get up and follow her, and suddenly, I’m standing face-to-face with every woman’s dream.

A huge walk-in closet.

We step inside, I look around in amazement. Coats shirts, skirts, all organized by color. High heels. loafers. Even running shoes! Silk nightgowns ranging from beige and red to pure black. Jeans and black leggings neatly arranged in the drawers.

I open one of them.

Several lace bras in different colors.

My face immediately heats up.

I open the drawer underneath.

Matching lace panties in various styles and shapes.

I slowly turn toward Claire.

She’s looking at me with that smug expression of someone who knows she was right.

I refuse to give in.

“This must belong to another woman. That’s why it’s here.”

“You’re wrong.”

She folds her arms.

“He made a point of asking what size trousers you wear and your underwear size and everything else.”

I stare at her in shock.

“And you told him?”

“Of course!”

She looks almost offended that I’d even ask.

“I thought he just wanted to know so he could get you some clean clothes for when you woke up and we left. I didn’t think he was planning to renovate your wardrobe!”

I roll my eyes. I don’t even want to think about how much all of this must have cost.

It’s a small fortune. I’d have to work for at least two years without spending a single cent to pay for all of it.

I reach for the black nightgown and a pair of black panties.

I decide against taking a bra for now.

I remove the towel from my hair and dry it. There’s no point fussing over it.

It’s difficult to look at my reflection in the mirror. The bandage on my cheek., the marks around my throat.

The reminders of what happened.

Claire hands me a robe and I slip it on.

Just then—

Knock. Knock.

I look toward the door.

Leonard is standing there.

And beside him is the doctor.

Apart from low blood pressure and fatigue, I’m doing fine.

Leonard assures the doctor that a psychiatrist will be evaluating me tomorrow and emphasizes that my rest is his top priority.

After the evaluation, Leonard walks the doctor to the door, leaving me alone with Claire.

“Well, Blair, I have some bad news for you. I’m going to have to leave.”