Beautiful Rose (Elixir Billionaires #1)

56. Rose

56

ROSE

“What’s that?” Zander cocks his head toward the journal resting before me on the bed.

My gaze follows him as he plugs his phone into the charger, and then it skims to his back and his tapered waist. When he sees my attention wandering, he smirks and flexes his arm, giving me a better view. My heart races, and a weird giggle escapes me when he puts his hands at the back of his head, flaunting those muscular arms and back. He looks at me over his shoulder with a twinkle in his eyes.

Woof, he is hot! And by some miracle, he’s all mine. I do a happy squeal and he chuckles.

My smile and giddiness fall when I spot the rose thorns digging into his skin and drawing blood. I try to focus on the other images, but as always, my gaze slides back to his shoulder.

“Rose, I’m different now.” He perches next to me on the bed and caresses my face with his long fingers.

I know he no longer feels that abhorrence of the flower. But I can’t help wondering if I’m hurting him in some way…just by existing.

“You being in my life has healed me in a way I never thought was possible.” As always, he reads my heart and says the perfect thing.

“Me too. You did more than heal me. You breathed life into me, Zander.”

When he kisses my face, starting at my forehead, moving to the tip of my nose, and finally reaching my lips, my toes curl. My fingers clutching the bedsheet meet something hard, and I look down to find the journal

Zander smiles and places it back onto my lap. “Tell me, what is this?”

I graze the golden spine with my fingertips. “Ash gave it to me. It’s Sophia’s. From when she was pregnant.”

“With you?” His eyebrows rise in surprise. When I nod, he asks, “You planning on reading it?”

“I want to. This is my first connection to my…mother, my family. But I’m also scared.” My heartbeat races against my chest as I whisper, “What if there’s something I don’t like? What if Sophia…never wanted me?” I hate the words coming out of my mouth, but I also can’t get rid of these insecurities, however hard I try. I’ve struggled with the feeling of being unwanted for so long that I don’t know how to escape it.

“I don’t think that’s possible, couch girl. Beast would have never given you this otherwise.” He holds the journal in his hands, turning it around. “Doesn’t it look familiar?”

“What do you mean?”

“It looks similar to the one you got for Kristy.”

I take stock of the leather-bound book in his hand.

Sweet sugar! He’s right.

This is so similar to my own purchase. On one hand, I can’t believe it, but on the other, I’m not surprised. Sophia and I always had similar tastes. I run my hand over the cover, which has Made with Love embossed in gold.

Instead of opening the first page, I flip to a random one. There’s a date over it, and my grip on the book tightens. These dead pages hold so much of my lost life. I shift my gaze lower, reading Sophia’s curly, bouncy writing. I can imagine her making those hearts over the i’s and twirling the flowing r’s.

My darling,

Today it was CLIMATE. That’s the word with which your dad and sister beat me in Scrabble. I’m eagerly waiting for you to come out and join my team so that we can give them a taste of their own medicine.

Let me tell you a secret. Promise to not share it with anyone?

I’ve always envied the bond your sister and dad share. I always feel left out.

But now, I know. It’s because you were coming for me. A part of me, my heart, my soul.

I’ll bring you into this world, but in a way, YOU have given me a new life. You don’t know how much happiness you’ve brought into our lives, especially when everything was just slipping away.

Sleep, my dear child. We’ll meet soon.

Waiting for you,

Mom.

I clutch my chest while my eyes fixate on the last word. I can see Sophia stroking her stomach, taking her baby to a dreamland where everything is well and they both are safe.

Zander wipes a tear that’s leaking from my eye. “All okay?”

I give him a teary smile and curl beside him. “Did Beast ever play Scrabble with you?”

“Scrabble? No. Why do you ask? ”

“No reason.”

“You’ve started reading it?” Kristy points to the journal sitting on my office table.

I nod. I now carry it with me everywhere. Even though I’d never admit it out loud, it’s my most precious possession these days.

“How do you feel?” she asks, removing the tea bag from her tea and placing it on the empty dish.

“Confused. Conflicted.” I release a sigh. “When I read the journal, I see my—our—mother. I feel this connection to her. She has written so much about you and Dad. But then I see Sophia, and I can’t shake away the image of her being so—”

“Coldhearted?”

My lips twist. I hate thinking of my mother from the journal as a coldhearted person.

“The woman in these pages is so emotional. She’s waiting for me to come into this world. She loves me so much, even before knowing me.” My throat tightens every time I think about the entries I’ve read. “I love that woman, and I yearn for her. But that’s not Sophia. At least not the one I know.”

“I’m so angry with Mom, Rose.” Kristy grits her teeth, and my ribs squeeze tight, envying her for her capability to be angry.

If only I could be angry instead of sorry and broken.

On my lunch break, I close my eyes and open the journal, letting it take me to whichever page it likes.

There’s a small treble sign at the top of my page .

My baby girl,

What’s the matter? You are very quiet today.

I composed a piece.

It’s nothing great, but I’m happy I could finish it. I told you, right, how I always wanted to be a composer?

That was my destiny, or so I thought.

But then I met your dad, and he became my destiny.

I forgot everything else.

Life with him is larger than any dream I ever had. But some days, like today, I imagine how things would have been if I hadn’t met him at that café. In any case, I cannot see myself being as happy as I am with him.

I’ll keep the piece here, if someday you want to play it with me.

Mom.

On the next page, I find a small white paper pasted in the journal. There are only eight measures, and as I read them, I imagine my fingers over the piano keys.

I can hear the music. It’s beautiful, but sad.

I imagine Sophia sitting at her piano, writing this music.

Was she thinking about her kidnapping? Was she scared? So far, she hasn’t said anything about those incidents.

Zander lies peacefully on the yellow picnic mat, his aviators hiding his eyes. His fingers skim my ankle before he grabs my foot and places a kiss on my instep.

“Zander. There are kids in the park.”

Before him, I didn’t know kisses on places like my instep and toes could be so arousing.

He just smiles and places my feet back on his chest .

I peep once more at his handsome face before opening the journal.

Today, it opens on the first page.

My baby,

I don’t know what to say, but there is so much I want to.

I just took the test last week, and when the doctor confirmed I was pregnant, your dad got me this journal.

He thinks I might like talking to you, as I’m not talking to him much these days.

You don’t know what you have given us. You came at a time when I was close to thinking my life was over.

Yesterday, in the kitchen, I looked at the knife and thought of…

But then I thought of you. I couldn’t do that to you.

And later, I resented myself for even thinking about something like this.

What would happen to your sister?

It would kill your dad.

You saved me, my girl.

I’m sorry for sounding depressed. But that’s my state since…

She didn’t sign the letter.

The ink has been smeared in several places, and the yellow page is rough and dried, as if her tears were falling down while she was writing.

My mother was depressed.

She didn’t even complete the sentence.

My captivity affected me, but I only have a faint recollection of that time. It was the abandonment that shaped my insecurities. But my mom, on the other hand, remembered everything. Even after coming back home, there was Roxanne, a constant reminder of her suffering.

“Baby?” Zander gets up and wipes my tears before righting my glasses. “You okay?”

I nod and hide my face in his chest as I sob for my mom and her pain.