“A surprise.”
“Our honeymoon starts early?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
Something about the way he said it made me pause.
He looked almost…
Uneasy.
“We don’t have to go tonight,” he said quickly.
“It can wait.”
I studied him.
“You were the one who brought it up.”
“I know.”
“So now I’m curious.”
He hesitated again.
Then he nodded.
“All right.”
A few minutes later, we climbed into his old pickup truck.
The engine rumbled to life.
The farmhouse disappeared behind us as we drove across rolling fields glowing beneath the moonlight.
The barn became smaller.
Then vanished altogether.
Fence lines stretched endlessly across the landscape.
The only sounds were the tires crunching over gravel and the steady chorus of crickets hidden in the grass.
I glanced out the window.
“I didn’t realize your property went this far.”
“It doesn’t.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“The north field belongs to our family.”
He pointed farther ahead.
“Beyond that belongs the county.”
“So where are we going?”
“The old shed.”
“I’ve never seen one.”
“Most people haven’t.”
The farther we drove, the quieter Ethan became.
The excitement from our wedding seemed to fade with every passing mile.
Now he looked like a man rehearsing difficult words inside his head.
Eventually, the truck rolled to a stop beside a weathered wooden shed half-hidden among tall grass and old maple trees.
The building looked abandoned.
Its faded paint peeled from the walls.
The windows were dusty.
A rusty padlock hung from the front door.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
“Ethan?”
He stared at the building.
Then slowly reached into his jacket pocket.
His fingers closed around an old iron key.
Before getting out of the truck, he turned toward me.
His expression was more serious than I had ever seen.
“Amelia…”
He took a slow breath.
“Before I open this door…”
His voice almost broke.
“I need you to trust me.”
The words sent an unexpected chill through my chest.
A bride never expects to hear something like that on her wedding night.
“What is this place?”
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