Page 114 of Chandelier Enthralled
Now, seeing her vulnerability, her desire to explore further, I was glad I’d risked returning to the place she’d unwittingly inserted herself into.
I got up and descended the rest of the steps, sensing Willa would soon be done.
Downstairs, I paused for a second to consider if Willa might like my modest kitchen, then shook off the ridiculous thought. It wasn’t like she’d ever come back after today.
I tried to see the kitchen as she might, the sleek contrast of marble and soapstone that elevated the room. High end appliances were seamlessly integrated into the design, their modern efficiency creating a space where function and beauty coexisted.
Spaces, they captivated me, and I’d often wondered if this was why I was put on this earth, to create the sublime.
Still, it wasn’t the same as you’d find in a billionaire’s mansion.
I shouldn’t even be thinking like this.
There were so many unanswered questions surrounding Amelia’s death. Why had she come here? Had she died in my pool while taking a midnight swim? We were still waiting on answers from the coroner—these things took too damn long.
I was haunted by that morning when Atticus and I had found her dead. This nightmare was devouring my every thought, and I felt my stomach twist in agony as I stared out the window at the sprawling lawn and garden and recalled seeing her face-down in the water.
Memories flooded in from when Amelia and I had spent precious days out there in the garden during a calmer time, simpler moments I had taken for granted. We had let the world fade away, finding a kind of peace.
But now, I knew without a doubt those moments had been a lie.
“I never loved you,” I muttered. “Even before I found out you were a lie.”
“What did she do?” Willa’s voice.
I squeezed my eyes shut realizing she was behind me.
When I turned around, she looked apologetic.
“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.”
I drank in her presence, jealous of the moonlight caressing her. I wanted to storm over and pull her into an embrace. More than this, I craved knowing what it would be like to kiss her again. But the moon worshipped her better, dancing upon her skin, illuminating her ivory complexion.
Willa’s expressive eyes revealed her truth, that she was comfortable here with me, even content. She was wearing my white shirt, and the way it hung over her slender frame was endearing. Her dark locks cascaded over her shoulders in luxurious shimmering waves.
In this tranquil moment, I was completely enchanted by her.
“You’re hauntingly sublime,” I whispered.
“What did you say?”
I shook myself from this reverie, from this admiration of her effortless grace. It was easy to lose myself in thoughts of her, especially now that she stood before me wearing nothing but my Ralph Lauren shirt—and nothing underneath.
She was intoxicating.
“You don’t mind?” Her fingers caressed the shirt’s hem. “I have nothing else to wear.”
“Of course not. But I can look for another outfit.”
“This is fine.” She seemed shy. “You have a lovely home.”
“It’s just a house. A place to crash.”
A place to keep my stuff. A place I wanted to leave every second I was here—but I just couldn’t bring myself to abandon it.
Willa came closer and peered out the window toward the pool, frowning as though she could touch my pain.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said softly.
