Chapter 24 Forbidden Curiosity
BELLA
I waited, tense and watchful, glancing out the window as if I could make David leave faster. Breakfast was quiet. Jasper, my little “popcorn,” sat nibbling his toast. He looked up as I entered, and his soft face crinkled into a frown.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” I asked, a gentle smile on my lips.
“I waited for you yesterday, but you never came home.” His voice was small, yet hurt, piercing me with guilt.
“I’m so sorry, my popcorn. I was... working late.” The lie tasted bitter. “But why were you waiting for me?”
He blinked, glancing down at his plate. “I wanted you to read me a story,” he whispered.
My chest tightened. “I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight,” I said, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead.
Then I caught sight of David at the table, stoic and focused on his food. I didn’t want him here, clouding the morning. “Aren’t you heading to work?” I asked, my voice trying to sound casual.
He paused mid-bite, lifting his gaze, his eyes sharp as glass. “And why do you care?”
My face heated. “No reason... just surprised to see you here this late.”
His brow arched slightly, an unmistakable flicker of suspicion in his eyes. “If you have something to say, say it, Bella. Don’t pretend.”
I swallowed, retreating to my food. When he finally rose, collecting his briefcase, I let out a quiet sigh of relief, watching until the car disappeared down the drive. Then I dashed for the stairs, barely noticing Jasper trailing behind me.
“Where are you going?” he asked, his tone half-curious, half-scolding.
“To check something,” I murmured, a thrill creeping into my veins. This was my chance.
“Dad says it’s off-limits,” Jasper warned, his eyes flicking toward the forbidden stairs. “I don’t want him mad at me, but... good luck.” He gave me a final look before retreating.
I reached the third floor and froze. The walls were lined with photos—David and a woman, her face shining with the light only love could bring. My heart twisted. Was this Lizzy?
I ventured further, spotting a journal lying open on a desk. The words hit me like a blow:
> “I’m so happy to be the only woman you love, David. I want nothing more than to be the mother of your kids.”
The room seemed to grow colder. The mightiest, coldest man I knew had once written of love, tenderness, promises.
> “When I have my own mansion, I’ll make the third floor a space filled with our memories for our future children,” he’d written.
My hands shook as I touched the worn pages, my heart pounding harder with each line. The memories lining these walls weren’t mine. They belonged to her—a stranger who had taken a part of David I’d never touch.
Time blurred until a flurry of voices echoed from below. Footsteps. The thunderous click of heels. And then I saw him.
David.
He strode toward me, his face twisted with fury, a storm brewing in his eyes. Before I could react, he seized me, his grip unyielding as he pushed me against the wall, his breath hot against my skin.
“What were you doing up here?” His voice was low, dangerous, every syllable laced with a tension that stole my own breath away.
Words failed me, slipping away under his unyielding gaze, yet I couldn’t look away. His fury was palpable, a force pressing down on me, and in that moment, I wasn’t sure what scared me more his anger or the unfamiliar ache in my chest as I stood frozen beneath it.