Page 39 of King

I wonder -

If someone inside the house is watching me - and I go into a section of the mansion that I’ve been forbidden to explore - surely they will come and stop me. They wouldn’t just sit by and let me get away with that.

My heart flips with tension as I march towards the forbidden wing, towards the room I’ve never been in.

The door is locked, but I stand on my tiptoes to try to reach the top of the frame where I can see the key peeking out.

I take off my shoe and throw it up at the key until, after three attempts, I manage to knock it down.

I’m very aware of the camera watching me.

The blinking red light is like a silent alarm in the corner of my vision.

The key slips into the lock and clicks when I turn it. The handle turns all the way and I push the door open. With one glance at the camera, I step into the forbidden room. My heart is racing.

I thought I would find documents. Work folders, secret files - something like that. But instead I find a room that obviously used to belong to Bella.

For a moment I just stare at everything in disbelief. It’s like a secret shine to her. A memory of everything she was. A beautiful display of everything she meant to Giovanni and her family.

My chest tightens.

I walk deeper into the room, my eyes roaming over all of her beautiful things.

It smells of fresh flowers and delicate perfume. Unmistakably feminine., and even though she’s been gone a while, someone has been keeping it clean from dust and airing it out.

I walk slowly around the room, my heart strangely tight, aching with jealously because I never had a chance to be loved by Giovanni in the way that he loved her.

Why was she so lucky?

Why didn’t I deserve the same love?

My fingertips brush over an ornate book with a pearl cover. I open it and let the pages drift through my fingers. A diary. Her careful, neat cursive looks elegant and beautiful on every page.

I close it roughly, not wanting to read her words. Scared that it will upset me more. I’m already on the verge of tears.

I swallow, trying to push back the lump forming in my throat.

Dresses hang on a railing near the window. Silk, velvet, lace and carefully hand stitched beaded designs. Each dress is exquisite. Far more beautiful than anything I was ever able to afford.

I wonder if he held her, danced with her to romantic music while she wore these - his hands brushing over her body as he stared down at her with love in his eyes.

I sigh softly and move on, looking at her small selection of first edition books. Romance. Sweet stories with sweet endings.

I never liked romance novels. They seem like a taunting jibe at something I would never have.

On the dressing table her jewelry box is open, and I dip my fingers inside, gently lifting the most gorgeous necklace from it.

I hold it up, letting the clear white diamonds catch the sunlight splashing through the window. The light bounces off the stones and dances over the walls around me.

“She wore it on our wedding day.” His voice is full of pain.

I spin towards him with a fright, still holding the necklace. He’s standing just inside the door way.

He closes his eyes for a moment, and I see the agony of losing her, etched into every muscle of his body.

It hurts me to see him hurting. But at the same time I hate the fact that he’s hurting because he misses her when I’m standing right in front of him.

I push aside the pain I feel, the haunting rejection that has followed me my entire life -

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