Wild Nights, Wild Nights || s.reid

23. I Meant to Tell Her How I Longed...

Spencer hadn't meant to look into the locked room of your apartment for longer than a minute. When you'd rushed out into the hallway after Preston, leaving the door unlocked, he'd intended to take a quick peak just to see what was so secretive about that room.

But once he had entered, he'd frozen completely, unable to comprehend the disarray he'd found.

Spencer wasn't sure where to look first—at the photographs of horrific murder scenes and candid photographs of various nefarious looking men tacked to a corkboard, at the map of the northeast of the United States on the right wall with a variety of multicolored pins and post-it notes stuck to it, pages of notes surrounding it, or at the three monitored desktop stationed against the center of the far wall, still scrolling with code and featuring loading bars from whatever you'd just done. Underneath your desk were several seemingly home engineered system units for your desktop. Cardboard boxes littered the floor, labels written onto the sides in black Sharpie varying from "Music" to "Photos" to "Legal Docs." There was a connecting bathroom and a built in closet beside the map.

Spencer guessed that it had been a guest room you converted into an office space.

But what drew his full attention first wasn't the bizarre assortment of documents and photographs lining the walls, nor was it the impressive computer setup you owned, but the collection of degrees hanging by the back corner of the left wall.

He stepped into the room to examine them.

There were four of them, hung up in a diamond shape. The bottom degree was your dual-degree Bachelor of Sciences in computer science and cognitive neuroscience. The two center degrees hanging side by side above your Bachelor's were Master of Science degrees in clinical psychology and computational science, both earned within two years of your graduating from college. And on top was a PhD in—

Spencer blinked a few times.

You had a PhD in computational clinical neuroscience.

So you did earn your PhD. Why would you keep that a secret, especially in such a specific and impressive subject?

Stationed in the corner beside your degree display was a slender L-shaped shelving unit. The only objects on the shelf were three framed photographs, all on the fourth shelf.

First, there was a childhood photo of you and a younger girl. You couldn't have been older than ten-years-old, and you were dressed in a poofy red dress and had your hair slicked back into a tight bun. The younger girl (who Spencer deemed must have been your sister based on physical similarity alone) wore a bright green dress of a similar style. Both you and your sister were grinning so wide that your eyes were practically shut.

The second photo was a candid photograph of your sister (now a teenager) and two adults that he assumed were your parents. The photo was taken on the deck of a house by the beach. Elizabeth was lounging in a deck chair with her bare feet propped onto the glass table, mouth half open in complaint and showcasing a row of braces. Your mother was standing beside Elizabeth, her hand resting on the back of the chair as she looked down at your sister with a soft smile, a glass of red wine in her other hand. A bit farther back featured your father on the telephone. He didn't smile at the camera; rather, he looked somewhat annoyed at having his photo taken.

But the third photo is what made Spencer's breath hitch. He picked it off the shelf and looked at it in his hands.

The third photo featured your whole family, you included, on a velvet red carpet leading into a grand building. You and Elizabeth stood side-by-side, both of you older now, with an arm around the other, sandwiched between your parents. You were dressed in a form fitting scarlet gown, Elizabeth by your side in a cream colored princess-styled gown, and your face was split into that wide contagious grin that he'd never seen on your face in person.