She Belongs to Me (Rewritten Version)

Chapter Nine

Vincent:

Christmas has always been one of the worst days of the year for me.  While normal families gathered around a beautifully decorated tree and opened gifts from each other, my family did nothing but fight and put down one another.  My father would berate my mother because her lavish dinner didn't meet his standards, and my sister would show off the expensive gifts that she received from father.

All of the terrible memories from those years paled in comparison to the sorrow I was feeling now. I had screwed things up with Emily because of my jealous mind. She was comforting her best friend, and my dumb ass scolded her for hugging him during his time of grief. What was wrong with me?

My relationship with my father crumbled because of the physical abuse he put my mother through. How could I even think of putting my hands on Emily?  How could I be so damn stupid!?

She told me that she forgave me for what I had done, but I was still very sorry. There had to be a way I could make it up to her, show her that I would never do anything terrible like that again. I had to think of something so wonderful that she would forget all about the ugly incident.

Perhaps if I knew more about Emily, the things that really made her happy, I could think a bit more clearly and make a more educated decision.

I drove back to her house that night, parking in the street and staring up at the house. Every light was off and it was nearly two in the morning.

What if I snuck inside for a minute and took a look around her bedroom? They didn't have a pet to alert them of my presence, and I wouldn't stay for longer than five minutes. This was my only option.

I opened my console and pulled out the pair of black leather gloves and black ski mask stashed inside.  I didn't think it would be necessary to conceal my face, but I figured it wouldn't hurt.

Their spare key was stashed on my key chain. I had found it a few weeks ago while Emily was cooking us an intimate dinner. They kept it in the most obvious place imaginable; under the welcome mat.

I took it and made a copy, then returned it the next evening.  Who knew I would need it this early in our relationship?  It was kind of funny, really.

I carefully unlocked the door, thanking my lucky stars they didn't have a security system as I made my way into the house.  Everything was quiet, save for the tick-tocking of their large grandfather clock.

I ascended the stairs and made my way into Emily's bedroom, closing the door behind myself as silently as I could.  She looked so beautiful sleeping there.

Her hair was sprawled across the pillow, and her chest moved up and down as she slumbered like a princess from a fantasy novel. I reached my hand out to touch her, then hesitantly drew it back.

There was no time to touch her, and it was far too risky. I chewed on my bottom lip to contain my lust, then started searching her bedroom. There was not a whole lot to go on. She had a few horror novels on her shelf and some old movie posters.

I dug through a couple of her drawers, but that was a fruitless search as well. Wait a minute.

What about a diary?

Didn't all women keep a diary?

I decided to search in her closet. If she had a diary, she wouldn't leave it out in the open. I pushed past her clothes and shoes-until I saw a little blue book stashed underneath her things. I had found it!