Page 13 of The Pakhan's Kidnapped Bride
The items were far more luxurious than what he’d stocked for Georgie. And the bathroom had been stocked, too—luxury creams and conditioners and lotions and perfume.
The thing that hurt more than anything else was seeing the perfume.
He remembered.
The sweet orange blossom-flowered scent of Dolce & Gabbana’s Garden of Exotics. It has always been my favorite, and he remembered. Why did he do that? Why did he spoil me with these things while being so full of hate?
Why did he let me know he still remembered? Was it a stab at me? A spiteful jab at my heart?
When I climb out of the shower and stand in front of the mirror, my reflection blurred with steam from the hot water, I stare at that perfume.
Reaching out, I trace my fingers over the delicate glass bottle, then pick it up and take the lid off. I spritz it on my neck and my wrists, closing my eyes to breathe it in.
The day I left him was the last day I ever wore this perfume. The scent of it reminded me of him in too many ways.Of our summer adventures, of spring hikes when he took me to see the fields of flowers when they bloomed for the first time that season.
Even smelling it now sets my heart racing. If I close my eyes, I can feel his fingers brush across my skin.
I quickly set it aside and use the corner of the towel to try and rub it off my skin. It’s too late, though. The scent is on me. I could shower again, but I’m of two minds; I want to hold it close. I want to let it go.
Dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a light cotton long-sleeve top, alone in the mansion, I leave my room to walk around.
It’s quiet.
But worse than the quiet is the loneliness I’ve felt since I got here.
Everywhere I look, I have a memory of us.
The living room fireplace, where we spent many nights in the orange glow of a warm fire.
The kitchen, where I sat on the counter watching him make my favorite blueberry pancakes.
The dining room table. After dinner one night, he bent me over it, and we made love so intensely we broke several dishes as they crashed to the floor.
I shake my head. Even when he’s not here, his ghost is, and the guilt is following me.
I think it will be better if I sneak out and properly clear my head. The mall isn’t far away from here.
With my mind made up, I make my way through the mansion towards the garage, but on my way past the massive front windows, I spot a car pulling up in the driveway.
Peering through the window, I see two girls climbing out, laughing and joking with each other. Who is that?
My heart somersaults. Excited, nervous, curious.
They walk up to the front door as though they’ve been here many times before. When I realize they have their own key, I can’t believe it.
The first girl walks in with a spring in her step. The other one calls out from behind her, “Kira, he just messaged me. He’s not going to be home till way later.”
“Well, that’s useless. I guess we can raid his fridge and then find something else to do.”
“Let’s go to the mall. He never has nice food here.”
The first girl looks up and sees me standing in the foyer, staring at her in silence with my mouth open. I wanted to greet them, but I got overwhelmed by the idea of explaining what I am actually doing here.
“Hello?” she says, cocking her head to the side.
“Hello,” I say back.
“Who are you?” Kira, the second girl, asks, a wide smile on her face.
