Five Years of Marriage to Mr. Bradford (by Koi Fish) novel Chapter 266

Chapter 266

The next morning, the car issue was resolved.

Rebecca and the troupe climbed aboard and headed to the next stop: Venice, the famous city of water, home of those little angel dolls sold everywhere.

The moment Rebecca saw the dolls in almost every shop window, she thought of the row of them back home-each one supposedly there so she wouldn’t feel lonely.

She had once naively believed they were meant for her. In reality, they were for Catherine.

Desmond noticed her gaze, asking, “Want to pick one?”

She shook her head. The dolls weren’t bad; they just carried unhappy memories.

Her phone rang with an unfamiliar international number. It turned out to be a receptionist at the hotel they had checked out that morning.

“Ma’am, you left a key in your room,” the caller explained. “Would you like us to mail it to your current

address?”

Rebecca paused, asking, “Does it have a keychain with a photo of a young couple?”

“Yes, the lady in the picture is you. We remember your face.”

“Just throw it away. I don’t need it anymore.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. Just toss it. Thank you.”

“Understood.”

Rebecca knew exactly what key it was.

Their home used a keypad, but Vance had insisted on keeping physical keys when they first married, just in case the lock died, the fingerprint didn’t read, or she forgot the code.

She had attached the key to a custom keychain made from one of their few photos together and tucked it in the inner pocket of her bag.

Five years later, she still used the same bag and had forgotten about the key until it turned up now. It had to be a sign. She and Vance were finished, and the key should go, too.

“Come on, let’s get gelato. I heard they’re legendary,” she said, spotting an ice-cream shop.

At the German hotel, the receptionist stopped a cleaning lady. “The guest said to throw this away.”

A man heading toward the front desk paused, looking over. “What are they throwing away? Let me see.”

“Oh, it belonged to the previous guest,” the receptionist explained.

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The man lunged forward, trying to snatch it. “Let me see!”

“Sir, this isn’t yours. We can’t show it to you,” the cleaning lady refused.

“It is mine. Look at the photo. That’s me!” Vance nearly lost his mind.

She looked at him, then at the keychain, feeling lost.

“Isn’t it me?” he yelled. “Look closely. That’s my home key. The lady in the photo is my wife!”

“It might be. I’m not sure.” She shook her head.

“You’re being ridiculous! The man in the photo is me!” He reached for it again. “Why won’t you give it back?”

The receptionist stepped in. “Sir, are you trying to rob us? We’ll call the police.”

“What?” Vance snapped. “You’re throwing away a guest’s property, then threatening me here? Go ahead and call them. If you don’t, I will.”