Chapter 11 The Girl in the Mirror
GENESIS
Was I in trouble?
The question gnawed at my mind as I stood before the large mirror in his room, watching the maid silently zip up the yellow dress we'd gotten from that massive mall.
With each inch of fabric closing around my body, the pressure in my chest tightened. My heart pounded against my ribs, louder than the soft rustle of the cloth. He had left so abruptly.
He was angry. I wouldn't fool myself into thinking otherwise.
I had stood there, and watched as he discarded the coat like it was nothing. He'd stormed up the stairs without a second glance, leaving me frozen in place until he returned fifteen minutes later in fresh jeans and a white shirt. He barely spared me a glance before disappearing out the door again.
Maybe it was better that he left. Maybe not.
"Ma'am... ma'am?"
A light tap on my shoulder made me jolt, stumbling forward. My hands shot out, catching myself against the mirror before I could topple it over, and make more trouble for myself.
I glanced at the maid, heat pricking my face. She blinked at me, brows pinched like I'd grown a second head.
"Are you okay, ma'am?"
I felt stupid. She'd been standing behind me the whole time, helping with the dress while I drifted away in my own head. Instead of answering like a normal person, I'd acted like...
A frightened animal.
But you are one, aren't you?
The cruel voice whispered from somewhere deep inside. I shook it off. No. I might have been treated like one... but I wasn't.
The maid stepped closer and instinctively, I pressed myself against the wall. Her sharp blue eyes flicked to mine, noticing the movement. She retreated with a small bow.
"I'm sorry if I startled you, ma'am. I'm finished with the dress."
Her voice was soft, kind, even. But I hated the flicker of pity in her gaze. It burned something bitter inside my chest.
I swallowed the knot rising in my throat and nodded stiffly.
"I'll be taking my leave now." She clasped her hands together. "Lunch will be served in a few hours, but if you're hungry before then, you can come down."
I glanced at her, fresh-faced, young... unscarred.
For a moment, I wondered what it felt like to wear skin that didn't carry stories you'd rather forget. But scars didn't always show on the outside.
Maybe she's hiding something too...
"Ma'am?"
I blinked, snapping out of it again.
Another nod. No words. I couldn't even make one.
She hesitated but didn't press. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving me alone with my own reflection.
I took a step back, my eyes roaming over the girl in the mirror, thin, fragile, with slight curves that barely filled out the yellow dress.
The soft fabric hugged my waist, flaring slightly at the hips. The sleeves were short, leaving my arms bare... leaving the scars bare. They twisted along my skin in uneven lines, ugly reminders of the life I'd left behind in that house but they're still haunting me in the form of a twisted family.
I clenched my hands at my sides, nails biting into my palms.
They were there. Always would be.
But... the girl in the mirror was still standing.
Still breathing.
Maybe that counted for something.
I turned away from the image in the mirror.
I wasn't supposed to even look at mirrors.
I never liked them, they showed too much, revealing what I already knew but didn't want to face. They made everything clearer, harder to ignore.
As I turned, my eyes roamed the large bedroom, settling on the massive bed in the middle. My cheeks heated instantly.
We had slept in the same bed.
I'd been awake for a long time when he'd climbed in beside me. My heart had raced, convinced that the making of a child would happen. But... nothing.
He'd simply laid down, placed a pillow between us, and fell asleep, like sharing a bed with me was nothing out of the ordinary.
At first, I'd been afraid, tense and ready to flinch at any movement. But sleep had eventually claimed me.
Then... the nightmares came.
The cold, dark room. The shadows clawing at my mind. The pain.
They always found me.
But this time... something had driven them away.
Warmth.
Even now, I couldn't explain what had kept the horrors at bay, but when I'd woken up, the fear hadn't wrapped around my throat like a noose. My body wasn't drenched in sweat, and I hadn't wet myself like I usually did when the nightmares got too bad.
Instead, I'd been wrapped in the soft blue duvet, stretched out across the bed like I'd actually... rested.
Panic had filled me then, thinking I'd somehow driven him away with my tossing and turning. I'd stumbled out of bed, only to find him stepping out of the bathroom... naked.
No shame. No reaction.
He was my husband, after all.
But the sight had made me snap my eyes shut, heat burning down my neck. I shouldn't see him like that.
I turned away before I saw too much.
As the memory replayed in my mind, I wandered around the room, running my fingers over the dark furniture. It was neat, spotless, but empty.
No pictures. No personal touches.
Just plain.
Like no one really lived here.
Just like me.
So, I turned away from the room and stood at the door, unsure of what to do.
Boredom gnawed at me.
He hadn't exactly told me if I could leave the room without his permission... but he hadn't told me not to either.
I bit my lower lip, debating. The walls felt too tight around me, suffocating, and the silence was starting to crawl under my skin.
I wanted to go out.
I needed to go out.
What if he got angry?
Then I'd just rush back in before he found out.
With that plan in mind, I turned the doorknob slowly, wincing as it creaked.
When no one came storming down the hall, I slipped out and found myself walking down the large, swirly staircase. The cold air wrapped around me, sending a shiver down my spine.
The smell of food lingered in the air, rich, savory, but I didn't feel hungry. My stomach had learned a long time ago not to growl unless it wanted disappointment.
I kept walking, my bare feet pressing against the cold marble floor.
For a moment, I let myself enjoy the rush, the tiny taste of freedom.
Until I noticed it...