Page 29 of Isabelle and the Beast

Fourteen

ISABELLE

Adam calls this room the theater.

I call it heaven.

To my right, the entire wall is covered with a projector screen, offset by red velvet curtains. The rest of the room looks like the coziest movie theater in the world. There are five gray plush recliners with cup holders and little tray tables, and a step above those is a couch, big enough to sit four people comfortably, or for a couple people to stretch out and take a nap.

“This is incredible,” I breathe.

“Come with me,” he says. We walk between the recliners and the screen to the other side of the room, where Adam opens the door to a walk-in closet.

“This is our movie library,” he says, gesturing at the rows of DVDs. “We’ve kept them all in case we lose Internet from storms like this one.”

My mouth drops open as I start perusing the names of the movies. There are classic romances, thrillers, rom-coms… It’s mind-blowing.

“You might like this section,” he says, leadingme to the far end of the closet. I follow him and read the names of the movies he’s pointing at.

Singin’ in the Rain

An American in Paris

Mary Poppins

My Fair Lady

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

The Sound of Music

My eyes fill with tears. I press my hands to my cheeks to calm myself down, but my emotions are out of my control after the last few days.

I turn to Adam, who watches me carefully. “Sorry. I know this might seem overdramatic. But it’s… This means more than you could possibly understand.”

He doesn’t say or do anything to acknowledge my words. But again, his eyes betray some kind of emotion… Sympathy? Pity? Understanding? I can’t get a clear read on him.

I smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Why do you have so many musicals? Are you a fan, too?”

That was the wrong thing to say. His face turns stony. “No.” He turns and leaves the closet.

Sigh. Another instance of Adam’s sudden change in mood. I follow him back into the main part of the theater.

“You’re welcome here whenever you’d like,” he says. “You can even sleep here if you want.” He won’t look at me now, his eyes toward the exit, like he can’t wait to escape.

“Thank you,” I say. “Truly. For everything.”

“You’re welcome,” he says.

We stand there awkwardly, him avoiding my gaze, before he turns and leaves the room. I can’t help feeling like something has changed between us, despite his strange behavior just now. There’s some kind of mutual understanding and, dare I say, respect.

I do feel bad for trespassing in his office. I also feel stupid for rushing out into the snow. That wasn’t my finest moment.

With a bit of shame, I realize I never truly apologized to him for what I did. Maybe I should. He actually apologized to me, and I know I felt better after he said the words “I’m sorry.”

I can’t bring myself to go talk to him just now, though. He seemed upset. For now, I’ll just appreciate this gift he’s given me.

Even though it’s morning, I’m so excited to be in this beautiful theater that I skip over to the closet and sigh happily in front of all the musicals. Which one to watch first? I pull outMy Fair Ladyand pop it into the player, then settle into one of the recliners to watch Audrey Hepburn become a real lady.

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