you through a wall.”
“I’d rather not. I have some…scars. You don’t want to see me.”
She sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve seen scars before.”
“You haven’t seen scars like these, believe me. Please respect my wishes. I don’t want you to see me. At least not yet.”
“Are you the one that left me the carvings?”
“Yes. I hope it wasn’t too forward,” he said.
“No, I loved them. But how did you know about me? Have you seen me before?” she asked.
“I’ve watched you while you were painting. Okay, I know that sounds a little strange. I’m not a stalker or anything. I just don’t get much company here and I was intrigued. Will you tell me your name?”
“Rose. My name is Rose.”
He chuckled softly. “How appropriate my first gift was, then.”
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Christopher.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Christopher. Well, sort of meet you, anyway. Are you sure you won’t come out? I would really like to meet you in person. You have so much talent, and I feel as if you’re a kindred spirit. I don’t get to see too many fellow artists.”
“Maybe you’ll see me someday. But not now, okay? I’m not ready.”
“All right, I’ll respect your wishes. But someday you’ll have to come out of hiding.”
They talked for a couple of hours, Rose telling Christopher about where she used to live and how different it was here. He didn’t elaborate too much on his life because he didn’t want her to know who he really was. She wanted to ask about his scars, but didn’t feel comfortable about that yet. Maybe when they knew each other better.
Soon, she said, reluctantly, “I have to go. It’s almost time for dinner, and my parents will be expecting me.”
“Would you have dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked.
“What? How?” she asked.
“Leave that to me. If you say yes, I’ll have dinner right here ready for you.”
“What about you? You’ll eat with me, won’t you?”
He sighed. “I’ll eat here at the same time. But not in the same room with you. Please, just not yet.”
Rose agreed to come for dinner the next evening, and she started home. On the way, she thought about what a strange day she’d had. There was something about her new friend that really touched her deeply. She was usually pretty cautious about people she met, but this was different. It was as if he really were a kindred spirit. She found herself looking forward to the next day.
He couldn’t believe she had said yes to dinner! He hadn’t felt this kind of elation in years. He began planning the feast he envisioned in his mind. A phone call to his attorney should take care of what he needed.
He picked up the mirror and took a long look. He looked at each individual feature as well as the whole package. No matter how long he looked, he couldn’t find any redeeming quality in his face. He was horribly ugly, and there would never be any change. How could he ever reveal himself to Rose and expect her not to turn away in revulsion? He was doomed to talk to her from the shadows forever. Or at least until she found someone to love…then she would forget about him. He felt a pang of sadness deep in his heart at the thought of his Rose with someone else. But he knew it would happen someday. He had to be content with just talking to her until that day came. Right before he fell asleep that night, a small tear escaped from his eye and fell down his cheek. Would it have been better to have never met her? Or would this short time with her be worth it all?
Rose looked forward to her dinner with Christopher with both anticipation and apprehension. Theirs had started out as a very strange friendship, and she had a feeling it was going to get stranger. Who only talked to each other from different rooms? Why did he think she was so shallow that she wouldn’t be able to like him if he was scarred? She was better than that! But she had to respect his wishes if she truly wanted to be his friend. Maybe she could coax him out tonight, or if not tonight, then soon. She looked forward to many days ahead, spending time with her new friend.
When it was time to go, Rose bade her parents goodbye, and started out the door. They thought she was going to dinner with friends, although she wondered when they thought she’d had time to make friends. She had dressed in a red lace blouse and a flowing black skirt patterned with red roses. She had pulled one side of her hair back with a barrette and stuck a red silk rose in it. Rose really had no idea why she was dressing up like this, since Christopher wouldn’t see her, but she wanted to look good for this dinner.
She approached the ruins, butterflies dive bombing in her stomach. She chided herself on her nervousness; there was no reason for this. But she couldn’t help it, she really felt something special just from the one meeting with Christopher. And she didn’t care if he had scars, no matter how bad they were. That old adage was true…beauty was only skin deep.
She smelled the delicious aroma of the food before she ever got to the entrance. Her mouth watered as the scent wafted through the air and surrounded her senses. When she walked through the entrance, she gasped in amazement. There was a table in the middle of the room loaded with more food than she could possibly imagine eating. She saw that a dip or two had been taken from several dishes, so she knew Christopher had taken a portion already so he wouldn’t encounter her. That was such a shame. She would have loved to share this bountiful feast with him sitting across the table from her.
“Christopher, this is amazing!” she exclaimed.
“I hope you like it,” he said softly from the other room.
She took the plate he had set for her and filled it with beef, fish, mashed potatoes flavored with sour cream, asparagus…the list went on and on. She took a tentative bite of the fish…she was picky about seafood…and closed her eyes in pleasure at the taste of butter and seasoning coupled with the mild flavor of the fish. She took several bites of different foods before speaking again.
“Christopher, I can’t tell you how much I love the food. This was such a sweet gesture. Won’t you come out and eat with me?”
“Not yet, Rose,” he said.
The sound of her name on his lips caused a pleasant shiver to course down her spine. In fact, his voice caused all kinds of confusing sensations in her mind and body. Her desire to see him with her own eyes was overwhelming, and it was all she could do to prevent herself from rushing into the room where he was and confronting him face to face. But she respected him too much to do such a thing.
“Thank you so much for the dinner, Christopher. I’ve eaten way too much, but it was worth it.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased,” he said, his voice showing his delight.
“The only thing that would have made it better was if you had joined me at the table. But I understand, and I won’t push you,” she said.
“Thank you for that, Rose.”
She hesitated a moment, then said, “Christopher, tell me how you got your scars.”
“I don’t want to talk about that, Rose. Please don’t ask me,” he implored.
“All right, I won’t insist. When you’re ready, you can tell me.”
He said, “I’ll tell you the day I let you see me.”
They talked about art, their favorite foods, their favorite movies…so many things. Then it was time for Rose to go home.
“I don’t really want to leave,” she said.
“I don’t want you to leave, either. But I know you have to. Will you come back tomorrow?”
“Yes, and I’ll bring my paints. I wish I had something to paint besides scenery, though,” she said slyly.
He chuckled. “No, that’s not going to bring me out of hiding. I’m sure you can find something more interesting to paint besides me.”
She laughed. “Well, it was worth a try. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
On a whim, she reached out her hand around the wall separating them. She felt a warm, strong hand clasp hers, and, to her surprise, he p
ressed his lips against her skin. The back of her hand tingled pleasantly where his warm lips had touched her. To be honest, other parts of her besides her hand had tingled. She swallowed hard.
“Goodnight, Rose,” he said in his deep, soothing voice.
“Goodnight,” she said, her voice breaking slightly.
She took off her shoes and ran home, confused about the feelings that were flowing through her body. The surge of pleasure she had felt at the touch of his lips on her hand surprised her and even scared her a little. What if she got seriously attached to Christopher but he never let her see him? Her heart was in serious danger.
The Beast couldn’t seem to stop shaking after he had kissed Rose’s hand. He remembered looking out at her, admiring her in her red and black outfit, the red rose in her hair. He recalled the dinner she had raved about, making him blush with pleasure. But that touch of her hand, the way her skin felt soft and warm on his lips…it was almost too much for him. When he had been normal, he was a womanizer, taking pleasure in each new experience with a new woman each time. But that kind of pleasure paled in comparison to the mere touch of Rose’s hand. He had never felt this way before, and it scared him to death.
He made himself another plate, eating slowly, savoring the taste. He had been so nervous when Rose was here, he had barely tasted his food. Most of it was cold by now, but it was still a good meal from one of his favorite restaurants. When he had finished, he cleaned up everything and put the leftovers in a garbage bag to
The Beast in the Mirror Page 2