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In a room only dimly illuminated by a teddy bear night light, you sit comfortably in the cushioned rocking chair, swaying back and forth slowly like the wind that seeps through the slightly cracked window. Your soft melodic voice that reads the words of the bedtime story travels along with it and falls into the ears of your 6-year-old daughter resting on her princess bed with her black panther plushie cuddled in her small arms.
You watch her battled valiantly against the relentless power of sleepiness. She struggled to keep her heavy eyelids from closing, but eventually, despite her best efforts, she succumbed to the weight of her eyes and drifted off into her world of dreams. You couldn't help but smile as you watched her sleeping form. It was clear to you that she took after her father, her face was a perfect replica of his. She had inherited his striking eyes, his full lips, and his expressive eyebrows. Even in her sleep, she wore that same cocky smirk that he did. It was as if they were two peas in a pod, and seeing her like this made your heart swell with love.
With a gentle kiss on her forehead, you swiftly exit the room, quietly closing the door behind you and simultaneously hearing another door open from the first floor. The front door.
The latch locks into place. He's trying to be void of sound but for someone who's more familiar with his house longer than the actual owner, you hear everything. From the twinkling chandler crystals that move to the slightest bit of wind to the running sink water that the maid uses to wash the dishes, to his low breathing and the bottom of his worn down penny loafers scraping against the wooden floor as he moves towards the bedroom.
You follow his path, his cold presence increasing the closer you get towards the cherrywood double doors. Opening the door you peek your head inside, the room lighting has a low orange glow. The television was off, its black screen acting as a distorted mirror for the entire first level could be seen from it. No Michael in sight.
As you step into the room, you walk towards your favorite spot in the bedroom; the window seat. It is positioned perfectly to offer you a breathtaking view of the ranch's beautiful pool and the hot tub room, which is separate from the main building. The moonlight illuminates the pool's still waters and you can see the gentle ripples as they flow into the filters on one side and return from the other. Your gaze lifts up towards the moon herself. On this fine night, she is full, all of her dark patches on full display as she casts a silvery glow in the mostly starless sky.
You suddenly feel a gust of wind brush past your face that didn't come from the window but instead it came from the bedroom door. You snap your head towards it and you catch a glimpse of a hand slipping out of the room before the door shuts with a soft thud.
You hear the gentle sound of Michael's footsteps ascending the stairs up to your daughter's room. You listen intently as you hear your daughter's excited greeting, calling out for her daddy. Her voice is filled with pure joy and happiness, and you can't help but smile at the sound of it. You hear Michael's low chuckle in response, and your daughter's giggles fill the air. It's such a heartwarming scene to witness, and it never fails to amaze you how easily children can find joy in the simplest of things.
