The facility was called Silver Ridge Storage.
The unit number was 214.
There was also an old key attached to the paperwork.
I stared at it for several minutes.
I knew I had crossed an invisible line by looking through his old files, but curiosity and uncertainty had already taken over.
I drove to the storage facility.
The property consisted of several rows of small metal units. After I showed the manager the paperwork, he checked his records.
“Unit 214,” he said. “That one has been rented since March 2011.”
I did the math in my head.
That was only a couple of months before Mark and I got married.
The manager showed me where the unit was located.
I stood in front of the door for several seconds before inserting the key.
The lock opened easily.
When I raised the door, I expected to see old furniture, boxes, or perhaps belongings Mark had forgotten.