Captive in Plain Sight

Unsprezece || Paris - Un

He backhanded her so hard she fell to the floor. The puppy barked at him a few times, before moving next to her. She looked up at him, holding the side of her cheek.

"You always did know just how to hurt me," he said, coldly looking down at her.

"You're lying," she retorted sternly.

"To be transparent, you left me before we could get our marriage certificate. But we exchanged vows. Vows which you immediately broke."

She sighed in relief, trying to hide her reaction from him. If there was any truth to what he was saying, at least they weren't legally married.

"I guess you really did think marrying me would be so bad." The anger was clear in his voice.

Understatement of the year, she thought. However, things still weren't adding up.

"I'm guessing this happened during the years I don't remember after my accident?"

"Yes," he replied. "Four years ago."

"Now I know you're lying. Four years ago you were in Vancouver at University and I was in Michigan getting my bachelor's degree. When would we have time to date, let alone get engaged?"

Mila was certain she could catch him in a lie and prove his story false.

"We met in Paris four years ago at one of Salvadore's exhibit premieres. You've always been a sucker for his work. It's how I knew he'd make a great guest at the opera." He said. "Anyways, it must have been fate, because we both ended up flying to Europe to attend the same party." He sounded reminiscent.

"Paris?" She was confused. "I've never been to Paris."

"Yes, you have. We met in Paris at the exhibit and continued seeing each other months after, until we decided to get married."

"Did you hear me?" she said loudly. "I've never been to Paris, and if I had there would have been pictures, passport stamps, Facebook posts. Something!"

"That's what your friends and family would like you to believe," he said. "They never liked me much. Thought I was a bad influence. I can imagine they were grateful to have me out of your life after the accident. Better for me to have never existed."

He handed her a black and white photo.

Printed at the top of the photo were the words, "Galerie de l' avenir - Paris." Below it stood Alec, Salvadore, and an older man and woman she guessed were his parents.

"So," she said. "What does this prove?"

"Look closer."

Mila searched the photo more carefully. In the slightly grainy background, she saw herself. Her arms were crossed in a shawl, as she watched the group get their picture taken.

She was floored. "How? This... can't be real. This is a trick, it has to be a trick."

The evidence was proving otherwise.

*****

Alec Laurent remembered the first time he laid eyes on Mila Black. It was four years ago at Salvadore Clement's first and last winter premiere in Paris.

Art, sex, and love were the only things Parisians went out for in the winter, and Salvadore's latest exhibit, Discontent, promised all three. It explored what Salva described as 'The metaphysical dilemmas of being human,' and had attracted a diverse and international crowd. Guests who braved the cold huddled around the gallery fireplace, drinking in excess to stay warm.