The Beast And His Belle

Chapter 7

She woke the next morning sick to her stomach recounting the details of the last twenty-four hours. The wedding that told the world she was "The one who tamed the wild beast" as it read in the tabloids. The wedding night that portrayed the beast in his form that no woman would ever be able to tame. She looked at her finger again and not only saw the diamond ring but now a wedding band. A band of metal that she now wears knowing what it's meant to symbolize and the lies it reminds her of.
She steadied herself to her feet after a morning of crying. Knowing Jackson was probably gone to work she left her bedroom to continue the routine she formed during her time here. To her surprise, waiting for her in the kitchen was a gorgeous assortment of flowers. Not roses but an array of lilies and carnations with a note that said, "I'm sorry" from Jackson. She couldn't help but felt bad for the words she said to him. "No one could ever someone like you." It made her think of the engagement ring she saw in his nightstand, the picture of him and the woman. Did he act this way with her? Is that why she left? Did he break her heart or did she break his?

She tried to take her mind off of Jackson while she stepped out to the greenhouse for her daily care of the roses. They had finally started to blossom again. The wilted petals had been brought back to life and it made her smile. Feeling rewarded for their beauty, she clipped just a few stragglers and added them to the bouquet he had left her. Hoping it would make him happy she had cared for something of his bringing with it renewed life, she placed the vase of flowers on the dining room table.

Flora took her leave just before the clock struck seven and when Belle heard the door open again, she knew it was Jackson. Her stomach clenched yet it felt of nervous butterflies to see his face again. She stayed silent sitting at the table as he entered and took his seat on the other end. Expecting, or hoping she'd hear an actual apology escape from his lips, she was wrong.
"What are those?" he looked of shock at the arrangement of flowers.
"Roses," she replied casually.
"I'm not stupid! Where did they come from?" he shouted again and Belle nervously stuttered out her answer.
"Th-the greenhouse. They were all dead so I've been watering th-"
"Everything in there died when my mother died! No one goes in that greenhouse!"
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't know-" she was interrupted again with the loud crash of the vase, shattering to the floor as he had purposely knocked them over in anger.
"Don't ever step foot in there again! Understand?" Tears filled her eyes and she rose from her seat, stormed down the hall, and locked herself in her bedroom before bursting her release of cries. She hated it here. She hated his anger. She hated everything that her life had become and wished she never agreed to the contract. Perhaps any public outlashing would be better than the emotional pain he puts her through. She felt she had gone to prison instead of her father and was agonizingly waiting for her sentence to be over.
"BELLE! Come out of there now!" He shouted from outside her door.
"I told you, you're expected to eat dinner with me!"
"GO TO HELL!" she shouted from inside her room.
"FINE! Don't eat until morning then!" He slammed his fist against her door and she heard his stomping footsteps storm away. She buried her head in her pillow as the fabric soaked up her steady stream of tears until the room turned to darkness and her swollen lids finally closed for sleep.

She woke to the painful grumble of her empty stomach and saw nothing but complete darkness. Looking at the clock that read two in the morning, she quietly crept to the kitchen to sneak some leftovers from dinner. Divulging in the cold but delicious eggplant parmesan Flora had made in the light of the refrigerator door, Belle was startled by the muffled sound of a piano off in the distance.
When her stomach was satisfied enough, she quietly made her way towards the sound.

She stopped knowing it was coming from the west wing and questioned; if she was willing enough to go down there knowing Jackson's home, he might accuse her of having disobeyed his orders while he was gone. But her curiosity got the best of her again hearing the gentle notes of the piano keys. She couldn't fathom who would be making that music. No one else lives in the house and she couldn't imagine the angry, aggressive Jackson would know how to play something that sounded this delicate and loving.

She continued her way down the hall until the music was echoing right outside the door. A door Belle had not yet opened in her previous secret explorations. Slowly and quietly she turned the knob and saw Jackson's back as he was engrossed in both his hands making their way around the keys of the piano. She stood there silently in awe mesmerized by his hands dancing on the keys. The melody he played was beautifully romantic and delicate yet despairing and tragically sad. It swarmed her body with goosebumps while almost bringing tears to her eyes, seeing this side of him she can't quite believe her own eyes and wondered if she was lost in a dream.
"Wh-where did you learn to play like that?" the words slipped out of her mouth in a faint whisper.
Jackson jumped in surprise and slammed the piano cover down in a rage banging the keys to a deep growl.
"What are you doing in here?" Before she could answer, he flew over to the door. "Get out!" Slamming the door in her face that made a breeze skim her hair.

After hours of crying in her room what struck her weren't more tears of sadness, but rage. She was so angry with him for forcing her into marriage, angry she doubted her feelings with his kiss, angry she felt bad for him at all. angry she was forced to leave her loving father to be subject to this life.
"I hate it here!" she lost control of her emotions and slammed her fists against the door in her face. "I hate you! I hate this house! I hate everything!" She continued to shout as she stormed her way back down the hall and slammed her own bedroom door behind her.