Their whirlwind romance began against the backdrop of the most romantic city in the world, and it seemed as though every moment they shared was serendipitous. From quiet walks along the Seine to passionate rendezvous in hidden cafés, they made the most of every minute they had.
Despite the ticking clock of their limited time together, he wooed her with the relentless charm and passion of a man who knew he had found the love of his life.
Every stolen glance, every tender touch, was a promise of a future they both knew would be full of bittersweet longing once her vacation ended. But he was determined to make the most of their remaining time in Paris, and he showered her with affection and attention that she had never experienced before.
When the day finally came for her to leave, he had won her heart. With tears in their eyes, they bid each other farewell, but not before she promised to stay one more month, their love triumphing over the constraints of time and distance.
The bright lights of Las Vegas beckoned him, a stark contrast to the intimate streets of Paris. But the city's allure paled in comparison to his desire to be with her. He arrived in Vegas with his heart pounding, ready to dive headfirst into the kind of love story they had only dreamed about. Armed with a ring and a fervent belief in their future, he found her waiting for him at her front door. When she saw him standing there, she ran into his arms, and it was as if all the stars had aligned once again.
But her words hung in the air between them, a blade that threatened to sever their dreams. "My father wants me to marry Tony Stark," she said, her voice low and filled with despair. "He's the CEO of a partnering company, and he's been a family friend for years. My father insists that he's the perfect match for me."
His heart sank. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, and he struggled to find his footing in this new reality. "But what about us?" he asked, his voice pleading. "We're in love.''
Her eyes shone with unshed tears as she searched for the words to articulate the turmoil raging within her. "Jude, you're the love of my life," she said, her voice breaking. "The four months we spent in Paris were the happiest I've ever known. But you know my father. He's stubborn and set in his ways. If I defy him, I risk losing everything."
She reached for his hand, her fingers lacing with his as she clung to the comfort he provided. "I don't know what to do.''
He felt as though he were suffocating, the weight of this situation pressing down on him from all sides. He stared into her eyes, desperate to find a way out, a solution that would allow them to be together without ruining her relationship with her father. But the answer remained elusive.
"We'll figure this out," he said, more to reassure himself than her. "We'll find a way. I love you too much to let them take you away from me."
Shel smiled sadly. "I love you, too. And I'll fight for us, but…''
"...But we have to be careful," she finished, her voice a hushed whisper. "My father is not a man to be trifled with, and Tony Stark is powerful in his own right. If they discover our love, I shudder to think of the consequences."
She leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. "We'll have to keep our relationship a secret for now, until we can find a way out of this."
He held her close, a sense of dread creeping into his heart. But for now, they were still together, still bound by their love.
In the harsh silence of the interrogation room, the ghost of Abigail lingered, taunting Jude with the memory of happier times. The happy glow of her laughter, the warmth of her smile—they played like a broken record in his mind, a stark contrast to the harsh fluorescent lights above him.
"I didn't do it," he whispered to himself, his voice trembling. "I would never hurt her. Never."
He shook his head, as if to clear the fog of confusion and disbelief that had descended upon him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself against the onslaught of emotions. Abigail's memory seemed to swirl around him like a storm, battering him with her absence, but he pushed back against the tempest.
He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut against the images that flooded his mind. He had to focus, to remember the details of the night before. He had to prove his innocence, not just for himself, but for his wife.
"Think, Jude," he whispered. "Think."
His thoughts began to coalesce, fragments of memory snapping into place like pieces of a puzzle. He remembered walking home with Abigail, laughing at some private joke, her hand in his. They had been happy, carefree...
But then, something had shifted. A shadow had crossed their path, something dark and ominous. He couldn't remember the specifics, but he knew they had been followed. He had seen it, hadn't he? Or had he only imagined it? He needed to piece together the rest of the night.
***
The memory of that fateful night continued to unravel in his mind, each moment falling into place like dominoes. He remembered their lighthearted banter about the shadows in the dark, his concern dismissed by Abigail's laughter.
He had sat in the sitting room, the match on the television providing a familiar background noise while Abigail had headed to the kitchen to prepare their dinner. The silence that had followed had been unexpected, and he had risen to investigate.
As he approached the kitchen, the realization that Abigail was nowhere to be found had hit him like a brick wall. In the silence of the house, his cries for Abigail went unanswered. The only sound that seemed to reverberate through the walls was the frantic barking of their dog, a golden retriever named Max.