The Artist's Wife (BWWM)

Chapter 31~ Want

So, I planned this chapter ages ago and it was one of the hardest ones for me to write.

Anyways, this is it. Don't hate me later;)

Listen to 'Issues' by Julia Michaels❤. For real, it gives the total feels for this chapter.

The old library held pictures, pictures that looked like they had been there centuries ago and perusing them seemed like a good pastime like any other. I leafed through a dusty old album containing pictures of Gerard's maternal grandparents and coughed the amount of dust that rose from it.

Why did they have a houseful of servants that didn't deem it fit to clean the books on the shelves?

In fact, I got the impression that this place was hardly visited by any of the occupants of the castle. I shook my head, leaned back into the chair and sucked on my cool, pink lemonade slowly, enjoying the feeling of it cooling my parched throat.

It was my fifth day in this castle and to my surprise, I kept visiting this library. Not to read as everyone would assume but just sitting there and observing old photographs; it felt like I was drawn to the place. Almost like it held secrets I was supposed to uncover.

Gerard hadn't been around much, we only saw in the mornings and around nights, so I was actually lonely. Sort of. Although we had been together last night, I had been at the screen room watching a romantic comedy and he had joined me about an hour into the movie. I had fallen asleep on his shoulder and met myself in my room this morning, tucked into my bed.

I didn't want to admit it but I feared I was getting way too attached to this artist than I had anticipated.

A picture at the corner of the album caught my eye and I leaned in to see a much younger aunt Evie locked in an embrace with a long, dark-haired man who had his thin lips set in a tight smile. His eyes seemed to bore holes into mine even from the picture as I wondered how a person could get a stare this intense. Aunt Evie had her auburn hair in curls, her eyes shining in laughter and I guessed who the man was at once.

Her late fiancé.

The one that died on his wedding day, subjecting Evie to that cruel fate that befell her.

I flipped to the next page, sneezing at the dust once again when a yellow piece of parchment floated out, drifting through the breeze and eventually landing on the lush black rug. I stared at it for a few seconds, contemplating if I really wanted to go pick it up.

I decided not to and turned back to the album when my fist accidentally hit the glass of lemonade and it crashed onto the floor, seeping into the rug. The glass rolled away, finally coming to rest beside the yellow piece of parchment I had decided to ignore earlier.

I involuntarily released a string of swear words as I got up from my seat, pulling down the navy blue, oversize hoodie I had on. I crouched down to pick both the glass and the parchment and went back to my seat with annoyance.