Arya.
"I want to pay a visit to my former house," I said, watching Tyler button up his crisp shirt. He looked effortlessly handsome this morning, a sight that made my heart skip a beat. But as much as I wanted to distract him and keep him with me, I needed to do something today.
"Really?" Tyler's brows knitted together, his gaze shifting to me with a quizzical expression. "Robert and Alison could be lurking anywhere, Arya. I don't want you to get hurt. Especially in your condition."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Tyler's protective nature was endearing, but sometimes it bordered on suffocating. "I can take care of myself, Tyler," I said, my tone edged with frustration. "I'm just pregnant. Not handicapped."
"Little One, you're not just pregnant. You're carrying our child," he reminded me gently.
I sighed, knowing he was right. But that didn't mean I wanted to be confined to the house like a fragile doll. "I know, Tyler," I replied, trying to keep my irritation in check. "But staying home all day is pretty boring, and honestly, you know I'll still go if I wanted to."
The truth was, I was restless. Ever since we found out about the baby, it felt like my world had suddenly shrunk to the four walls of a room. Every day seemed to blend into the next, a monotonous cycle of waiting and wondering.
At this point, I would go crazy with boredom if I spent one more day here.
"Alright," Tyler relented, stepping closer to me and pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "Since you want it that bad. I can barely say no to you, you know that, right? But you'll be going with one of my warriors. I'm not taking any chances."
I smiled at his words, feeling a rush of gratitude for his understanding. Despite his concerns, he always seemed to find a way to support me, even when he didn't fully agree with my decisions.
"Thank you, Tyler," I murmured, reaching up to cup his cheek in my hand. "I promise I'll be careful."
He nodded, his expression softening as he gazed down at me. "Just don't wander off too far, okay? And call me if you need anything."
I nodded, feeling a wave of affection wash over me. Tyler may have his moments of overprotectiveness, but I wouldn't trade him for anything in the world.
As he headed towards the door, I felt anxious about going to the Shelbys house. The thought of revisiting my old house filled me with a mixture of nostalgia and dread.
After taking a shower and getting dressed, I made my way downstairs. The memories of my childhood with Robert and Alison Shelby flooded my mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of a time long gone.
The guard Tyler assigned to me was waiting beside the car.
"Good morning, Luna," he said as he opened the passenger door.
"Thank you." I replied as I got into the car and he shut the door and got into the car and started the engine.
As he pulled out of the driveway and onto the deserted streets, my mind wandered back to the memories of my childhood that had lain dormant for a while. The pain and suffering I went through at the Shelbys filled my mind mingling with the distant hum of traffic that filled the air.
The house looked smaller than I had imagined. Maybe it was because of the fear I used to have while I was living here. The guard parked the car in front of the house and came out of the car to open the door for me. I silently signaled for him to hold on as I sat there for a moment, my hands gripping the leather seats tightly. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the rhythmic beat of my heart. With a deep breath, I opened the car door and stepped out onto the pavement, the cool air sending a shiver down my spine.
"Wait here, ma'am," he said as he went inside to inspect the house for any dangers. After a few minutes, he came out and nodded to me to proceed.
As I approached the front door, memories flooded my mind like a tidal wave crashing against the shore. The sound of curses from Robert and Alison's wicked laughter when she got me in trouble.
I reached out and turned the doorknob, the metal cool against my skin. With a creak, the door swung open. I hesitated for a moment, standing at the door for a while.
With a sense of determination, I stepped inside. The house was eerily quiet, the only sound was the soft rustle of leaves outside the window. I made my way through the dimly lit hallway, my footsteps echoing against the wooden floorboards.
The air was thick with the scent of neglect, the musty odor of disuse clinging to the walls like a shroud. I glanced around, taking in the haphazard state of the house - the overturned furniture, the scattered belongings, the sense of abandonment that hung in the air.
They must have left in a hurry, I thought wryly, a bitter taste rising in my throat.
The room was filled with memories, each one a snapshot of a time long gone. The faded wallpaper, the threadbare rug, the old photographs that lined the walls – mostly of Robert and his daughter. It was clear why I felt left out in my supposed family. I wondered why I didn't notice it while I lived here.
It was so obvious. There was a picture of Alison with Robert at her graduation. Another when she won Prom Queen. The only picture with me in it was one that looked like it was taken in a hurry. I was the only one smiling in it.
I wandered through the house, my footsteps echoing in the empty rooms. Everywhere I looked, I saw traces of the past, reminders of the life I had left behind.
Finally, I reached my old room, the place where I had spent countless hours dreaming about running away and sometimes killing myself. I never got around to accomplishing either, and I was grateful for it.
Entering my room—or what passed for one—I couldn't help but chuckle bitterly at the sight before me. It was more of a storage space cleared out, devoid of any personal touches or traces of the girl I used to be. Alison had always made sure of that, her disdain for me evident in every discarded possession and shattered dream.
I glanced around the room, my gaze lingering on the small bed shoved against one wall, the worn-out mattress. A table and chair occupied the opposite corner, their surfaces bare and old.
Shaking my head, I pushed aside the surge of bitterness threatening to consume me and focused on the task at hand.
I crossed the hallway and pushed open the door to Robert's room, a shiver ran down my spine.
I stepped inside, my footsteps echoing in the empty space as I surveyed the room before me. It was larger than mine, yet somehow colder, devoid of any warmth or familiarity. The furniture was sparse, the surfaces bare save for a few scattered belongings that spoke volumes about the man whom I once called my father.
Moving towards the desk, I hesitated for a moment before reaching out to sift through the papers scattered haphazardly across its surface. My fingers brushed against the cool metal of a drawer handle, and with a quick tug, I pulled it open, revealing a jumble of papers.
But it was the photograph nestled among the clutter that caught my eye, its edges worn and frayed with age. Reaching out, I picked it up, my fingers trembling as I traced the familiar contours of my own face, frozen in time alongside the smiling faces of my parents, their love and warmth radiating from the faded image.
My mum had dark hair that cascaded down her neck in waves and she had smiling eyes, like she laughed a lot. My dad wasn't smiling much. But there was a telltale sign of laugh lines on his face as he held her close.
My parents.
Tears welled in my eyes, blurring the faces I had longed to see. They looked so happy, so alive, and yet their absence echoed in the hollow ache of my heart, a reminder of all that I had lost.
A sob escaped my lips, the sound raw and unfiltered as the weight of my grief threatened to consume me. How could Robert take my parents from me in cold blood? I could've had a beautiful childhood like any other normal child. But thanks to Robert, I was an orphan. One that had gone through hell.
Anger flared within me, hot and fierce as I clutched the photograph to my chest, a silent vow forming on my lips. I would find him, and I would make him pay for what he had done. For my parents, for myself, and for the happiness he had stolen from me.