On Our First Family Vacation, My Husband Refused to Let Me Go into One Locked Bedroom — His MIL Later Handed Me the Key
I reached into my pocket.
The brass key was still there.
I told myself I only wanted answers.
Nothing more.
I hurried upstairs.
The hallway seemed longer than I remembered. Sunlight spilled through the old windows, casting long shadows across the wooden floor.
I stopped in front of the door.
My hand trembled as I pulled out the key.
For several long seconds, I simply stared at it.
Then I slid it into the lock.
It fit perfectly.
I turned it.
Click.
I wrapped my hand around the doorknob.
"Where did you get that key?"
The voice behind me made me jump.
I spun around.
Derrick stood at the opposite end of the hallway.
He wasn't breathing hard.
He hadn't run.
If anything, he looked as though he'd been expecting this.
"You followed me?"
He didn't answer.
His eyes never left the key in the lock.
Finally, he spoke.
"She promised she'd never do that again."
I frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
"My mom."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"I asked her years ago to stop giving people that key."
I looked down at it.
"People?"
"My fiancée."
"My girlfriends."
"Anyone I thought I might spend my life with."
The words caught me off guard.
"You've done this before?"
He gave a sad smile.
"More than once."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What exactly is behind this door?"
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