Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
After I slide into the passenger side, we take off toward town.
The prospect is nice. He’s always been kind and friendly to me during my time at the clubhouse. Nowhere near as scary as his president.
“I don’t even know your name,” I say as he pulls the truck to a stop out the front of the mansion where my uncle is recuperating.
“It’s Colby, ma’am.”
I force a smile. Because inside, my anger is slowly morphing into a deep, heavy sadness.
“Thanks for the ride, Colby.”
“Take care, Belle.”
He gives me a two finger salute before he drives away, leaving me standing outside the old mansion.
My heart is heavy as I climb the stairs and knock on the door.
When it opens, Annie greets me with the same warmth as the other times I have visited and takes me to my uncle.
To my relief, he’s awake. In fact he’s out of bed and looking so much better.
He’s outside on the wide stone patio, sitting in a wheelchair with a blanket over his lap and a bag of apple cherries in his hands. It’s an overcast day and cold. And in the distance on the horizon, storm clouds gather, bruising the sky in purple and gray.
His face lights up when he sees me. “Belle, what a lovely surprise.”
“Hi, Uncle Maurice. How are you feeling today?”
“Oh, I’m just peachy.” He has a big smile on his face. His bruising has faded and he no longer needs bandages around his head wounds. “What are you doing here?”
I sit opposite him on a garden bench and take his hand in mine. “I’ve missed you,” I say, pleased that he looks so healthy and happy. “I just wanted check on you, make sure you’re happy.”
“Oh, I am,” he says with another big smile. “What about you? You’re happy, aren’t you, Belle? Beast is a good man. He tells me how well you are doing whenever he visits.”
I frown. “He visits?”
“All the time.” He holds up the bag of apple cherries. “Always brings me a bag.”
Ah, that’s why he picks apple cherries.
My stomach twists. There is no need for Beast to visit my uncle but he does.
What is important to you is important to me.
A knot forms in my chest. I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.
“I spoke to the nurse. She says they’re ready to move you from the hospital and into one of the studio rooms. Is that what you want to do?” I ask, already knowing the answer. This place is special and my uncle has never looked so well.
Uncle Maurice looks at me, and for a moment it’s like he is fully there. He hasn’t looked at me that way in a long time and my heart aches. It’s like all of him has returned, and I realize how much I’ve missed him.
“You don’t need to worry about me anymore, Belle. It’s your time now. I’m happy here. You need to find your happy.”
Gaston breaks into my thoughts and my stomach curls.
But then I think about Beast. About the warmth of his embrace and the strength of his arms when he holds me. I think about the tenderness in his eyes and how he can be gruff and impatient with everyone around him but then be tender and attentive to me in the next breath. I know what my happy looks like. And it’s with a man with hair like a lion’s mane and a body like a tank, who drives me crazy with his grumpiness but also drives me wild with his affection.
“Have you found your happy?” Uncle Maurice asks.
I nod. “Yeah, I think I have.”
Uncle Maurice’s smile is warm, his eyes focused, fully present in the moment. Yet it’s bittersweet because I know it won’t last.
“Then that makes me happy.”
The look we share is warm and heartfelt. A tear slides down my cheek.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere new. Just the two of us?” I ask him.
“You mean away from here?”
“Yeah, just the two of us—”
Like last time.
Except last time was a disaster and it almost got him killed. I look around us at the beautiful old mansion and the vast green fields. I can’t offer him anything as good as this.
“You know, Beast offered for me to come live at the castle,” he says. Again, something else I didn’t know. “But I told him I like it here. You know, they serve cinnamon buns for morning tea?”
“I didn’t know that,” I whisper.
“Mrs. Blumfield makes them herself. She’s the cook. Best damn cook in my book. I think she also makes certain I get the ones with the most icing too. She knows I like the icing. You remember how much I like the icing, don’t you Belle?”
“I do,” I reply with a soft smile.
“And Mrs. Blumfield makes the best berry tea I’ve ever had. It’s quite delicious.”