The Bookworm and the Beast

by Charlee James

  The rise and fall of her chest quickened with every step until she pushed open the secret door inside her closet. The groan of the hinges screamed in her ears. For a moment, she froze, almost expecting someone would come charging up the stairs. No one came. She released a breath, stepped into the passageway, and closed the door behind her. She counted the doors as she went, until she reached the second down from hers on the left.

  The entrance didn’t budge at first, but she tried again, pushing hard against the resisting wood. It opened silently, and a surge of cold, stale air greeted her. Izzy’s fingers fumbled against the wall, searching for the light switch in the pitch black. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and goose bumps burst down her arms. She found the switch, flipped it on, and held her breath. It was a simple room with a small cherry wood desk and two plush chairs in the opposite corner. It was easy to see why Derek didn’t come in here. Every inch of the walls was covered in framed family photos. Some were professional, others candid, but through the consistent layers of dust, they looked like the quintessential, happy family. Izzy stepped forward to take a closer look at one of the photos. His mother had been a classic beauty with raven hair set over crystal-blue eyes and creamy skin. But it wasn’t so much her features that caught Izzy’s eye; it was the way she smiled as she looked down at her son. How could she have left them?

  Izzy heard footsteps coming down the hall. She stepped back quickly, and her hand connected with a tabletop lamp. It crashed to the floor and shattered. For a moment, she just stood still, waiting for someone to charge through the door. Maybe she’d imagined the footfalls. Izzy gathered her courage and crouched in front of the desk. She pulled open the drawer and found a music box filled with family pictures. The next held a neat row of files. A lump clogged her throat when she peered into the first yellow folder. It contained dozens of pictures of stick figures, yellow suns, and puffy clouds. She flipped through the drawer and crayon drawings of pirate ships, castles, and airplanes signed by Derek stared back at her. A pen mark on the other side of the thin paper caught her eye. She turned it over, and a date and note were written on the back of the page in graceful cursive.

  My sweet boy brought this home in his backpack today. Derek said he drew sunshine and flowers because they made him think of my smile. How did I become so blessed?

  Her eyes instantly filled. There was even a little smiling heart at the end of the note.

  The door creaked behind Izzy, and her spine and shoulders stiffened. Her pulse raced, and she gripped the chair beside her to ward off the dizziness spiraling through her.

  “Izzy,” Derek said in a low tone. “What are you doing in here?”

  Guilt flooded her like water through a Swiss cheese boat. “I’m so sorry. You said it brought back too many memories to come in here. I was just going to look around quickly to see if there was something that might help to find her or answer your questions.” Izzy stood up from the desk, placed the files on top of it, and turned to face Derek, who was staring at her like she was a complete stranger, an intruder in his home.

  “This was the one thing I asked of you. The one place I told you not to come.” Derek crossed his arms in front of his chest, blocking her out. She’d been right about his mother being a ghost to contend with if they started a relationship. Everything he did was shaped by her actions, including the way he stood in front of her now with an unreadable expression on his face.

  “You must know I was only trying to help. Your mother had a whole drawer dedicated to your drawings. She loved you.” She gestured to the files sitting on the desk behind her and took a step toward him. Derek took one back, and her throat tightened. The way his eyes bore into hers made her want to cry. They’d come so far, and at one misstep, he looked ready to push her away without a second thought.

  “If she loved me, she never would’ve left.” His eyes drifted to the open doorway behind her that led to the secret passageway. “Not only did you come in here, you snuck in.”

  “I wasn’t sneaking. I just thought it was the best way to go.” Izzy grazed her teeth over her bottom lip.

  “It was the best way because you knew you were breaking my trust. Was I an idiot to start a relationship with you?” Derek’s brows furled together.

  “I suppose that’s for you to decide.” Izzy raised her chin defiantly. “You carry so much pain, Derek. How can you live in this house day after day and never have looked in this office for a clue why she left?”

  “This isn’t about my mother anymore.” His voice cracked as the words passed through his lips. “This room represents the woman who stripped every shred of light out of my life. I didn’t want you to come in here, and you disregarded my feelings. You betrayed me. How do I know you won’t do it again?”

  The death of their future hung in the air between them. Izzy had given him her heart—her innocence—and he wouldn’t even try to see things from her perspective. She clenched her jaw and squared her shoulders.

  “You’ve been waiting for a chance like this, haven’t you? To prove to yourself that I’d purposefully hurt you so you can shut yourself off from the world again. Part of you is relieved that you can push me away and hole up in your cave.” She could feel him slipping away, and fear snapped inside her like a living thing. Pain radiated down her neck and into her chest.

  “Yesterday, I would’ve given my soul to keep you here. I realize now it was all a mistake. I never should’ve let you into my life.” He spoke the words so quietly she barely heard them. Her breath caught, and her body constricted.

  “You’re broken, and I was stupid enough to think I could mend your hurts because I’ve been hurt, too. You’ll never get over the fact that she left, because you use it as a shield. An easy excuse to be callous and cold.”

  “After you visit your grandmother this afternoon, there’s no need to come back. I’ll see the money gets deposited into your account, as discussed.” Derek turned away, dismissing her with his body, as well as his words. Everything inside her shattered like a brick dashed through a thin sheet of ice.

  Izzy pushed past him and raced downstairs. She could barely see with the tears blurring her vision. She barreled into the kitchen, and Derek’s family stopped and stared at her.

  “Izzy, what’s wrong?” Janet asked. Izzy could only shake her head. She ripped her purse off the countertop, turned, and fled to the front door. The cold air bit through her leggings and the sweater dress did nothing to shield her from the frosty air. It didn’t matter. Derek’s words had given her a bone-deep chill before she’d even stepped outside. Her feet clicked on the cobblestone drive as she raced to her car. She opened the rusty door and slid inside.

  The seats were frigid against her back and legs. Izzy turned the key in the ignition with a silent prayer it would start and take her far away from here. It coughed to life, and she pulled away from the house. In the rearview mirror, she could see Mary, Paul, and Janet rushing outside. Derek, a mere shadow in the upstairs window, watched her drive through the unforgiving iron gates.

  He’d said everything was a mistake. How could he think that, after the time they spent together?

  The whole ride home, an endless stream of tears fell, soaking the top of her sweater. She’d made one small decision to try to help, and in an instant, she’d lost the only man she’d ever loved. Maybe it was better to find out now, rather than weeks or months later.

  No matter how short their time had been, it had been the best of her life. Not because of the mansion or the fancy car, the double ovens or the glossy granite countertops. It had been him—earning his trust and companionship, little by little, until she saw the compassionate soul he kept hidden under lock and key. Everything Derek had said had come from a place of pain, but she’d learned an important lesson. She couldn’t help him overcome his grief if he didn’t help himself first. Izzy couldn’t picture him trying to deal with his feelings of resentment and distrust. He might live with them forever.

  She pulled int
o a parking space in front of her dreary brick apartment building. Those who had balcony units cluttered them up with garbage, and a new string of graffiti was scrolled across the left wall. Her situation was tough to swallow after the past few weeks with Derek. She would never be a real girlfriend to Derek or the hero Gram thought she was. She couldn’t pretend to be okay. Gram would have to move out of Silver Acres, and that crushed her almost as much as the indifference that had radiated in Derek’s eyes.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Derek watched Mary and Janet get inside their SUV from the window of his mother’s office. He wouldn’t stop them from leaving, just like he hadn’t tried to stop Izzy. He pressed the heel of his palm against his aching chest. What a fool he’d been to let her in after he worked so hard to avoid being hurt.

  There was a knock on the open door, and Derek turned. His father stood on the threshold, looking exhausted and sad.

  “We’re leaving. I’m so sorry about everything. You looked so happy…”

  “I thought we were, until she took it upon herself to play Sherlock Holmes and go through Mom’s things. What could she possibly have found that would make up for decades of pain?” Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d had enough for one day.

  “It sounds to me like she was trying to help.” Paul spotted the files, walked over to the desk, and began flipping through them. “I’m not saying it was right to come in here, but the look on her face… Derek, whatever you said crushed her.”

  Derek stilled as his stomach soured. Izzy had backed him into a corner, and he had to make a decision. Either step into his mother’s room and trust in Izzy, or retreat to where it was safer. He’d been a coward. Derek inhaled the musty scent of the office that had been closed up for over a decade, and a bitter pain settled in his throat and lungs.

  “I told her to leave.” Derek pulled out the desk chair and slumped down into it on unsteady legs.

  “Oh, son. I understand how hard it was to lose your mother. I lost my wife. But haven’t you known Izzy long enough to trust her?” Paul tucked his hands into the pockets of his dress pants and walked to the edge of the room.

  While his father was staring out the window, the realization of what he’d done settled in his stomach like a sack of coal.

  “Everything’s happened so fast. When I gave Marie and Sebastian the week off, they hired me a surprise temp assistant. It was Izzy who showed up at my doorstep. I tried to send her away, but then Janet threated to have Carolynn Schafer come for the holidays. I was so sick of dodging the pressure to find someone each year.” Derek dragged his hand through his hair.

  “So, what? You asked Izzy to pretend to be your girlfriend? You lied to all of us?” Paul’s mouth tightened, and the side of his lip twitched.

  “That’s how it started, at least.” Derek studied a knot in the wood floor near his feet. “I never expected to fall in love with her.”

  “What was supposed to be an act came around to bite you. Shame on you, Derek.” Paul shook his head, and he suddenly found it hard to breathe.

  “I was trapped. Janet was forcing another woman down my throat. I know that’s what you both want for me, a wife, a family, but that has always been my decision to make. One I never wanted.” Heat flushed Derek’s cheeks, and he stood up and paced across the room.

  “Even the most skilled actress couldn’t conjure up the expression in Izzy’s eyes when she looked at you,” Paul said and started walking toward the door. “I’d say you have one giant mess to untangle.”

  Derek needed solitude, time to clear the racing thoughts pounding through his head.

  Paul paused at the doorway. “I set a bad example for you, Derek, and I wasn’t the father I should’ve been. It’s taken me a long time to forgive your mother for leaving, but I know whatever reasons she had, she did love us,” Paul said.

  Derek scoffed. “You may have forgiven her, but I haven’t. I probably never will.”

  Paul sighed. “I hope for your sake you can overcome the pain of it and try to win back Izzy—even if you don’t forgive your mother.”

  Derek turned toward the window and drew in slow, steady breaths. Dismissing his father was wrong, but, God, he wanted everyone out.

  “You think that if I were a stronger man, I could’ve made your mother stay. I understand you don’t want to make my mistakes, but if you don’t make any, you’ll never live.” Paul sighed deeply, a noise edged with heartbreak. “Mary and Janet are waiting in the car.”

  Derek continued to stare blankly out the window. His father’s words had stirred a horrible churning in his gut and a sickness in his throat. Derek preferred the anger to hurt. The front door on the main floor slammed shut, and his father walked across the driveway, head hanging low, to the parked vehicle.

  Derek flexed his fingers and, in one sharp gesture, swept his arm through a row of family photos that lined a dresser. A whimper sounded from the hallway, and Derek looked up to see Atticus tuck his tail between his legs and slink out of sight.

  Derek’s shoes crunched over the broken glass, and his eyes avoided the happy face of the boy, his radiant mother, and his father’s intelligent eyes. He sat down at the desk, filled his lungs, and opened the first file. Tears he hadn’t cried since childhood threatened to fall. Izzy was right; his mother had saved everything and added warm, loving notes to the back of each one. “Why did you leave?” Derek growled under his breath. The Tiffany lamp on top of the desk rattled as he whipped open a drawer. His muscles quivered, suddenly as cold as the air pressing against the old windows. He’d loved his mother so much. He grieved for the little boy who’d made so many attempts to convey his love before being abandoned. He’d needed her growing up, and she hadn’t been there.

  Izzy finding the drawings was bittersweet and almost too much to bear. His father and Izzy were right—his mother, at least part of her, had cared for them. Loved them. So, what had changed? He kept opening the drawers, slower now, and fished through the contents. His hand connected with a pile of plastic bottles. The pills inside rattled as he pulled them out of the drawer. He looked at the prescription, took out his phone, and pressed the voice recognition. He rattled off the name of the pills, and the phone instantly replied.

  “Lithium is an antipsychotic drug administered to treat the symptoms of bipolar depression.” The robotic voice echoed through the room, and Derek sank down to the floor. His mother had fought her own demons. Maybe she thought she’d been doing the right thing to leave her son and husband, to spare them. Little did she know, without her, they’d been lost.

  The orange bottles in his palm gave some explanation to a lifetime of wondering, questioning, and feeling like he wasn’t enough. There had been days his mother had been bursting at the seams with energy and joy. On those days, they’d race around the backyard like banshees, fly kites, or splash in the river. Somehow, Derek had forgotten the other days. The ones where his mother was so withdrawn she’d lay in bed staring blindly at the ceiling. She had struggled with her illness, and the pills told him that she’d fought for normalcy.

  Had she tried to deal with things on her own because she hadn’t wanted them to see her that way? He might never know the answers, but at least he had some sort of explanation. Some bit of closure.

  He was sure his mother had left them for a reason, just as he’d lied to Janet, Paul, and Mary about his relationship with Izzy for a reason. He slumped forward and closed his eyes, releasing a pained breath. If Izzy hadn’t disobeyed his request, he’d still be living in the dark. Things between them had seemed too perfect and wonderful to be true. He’d been on pins and needles waiting for something to go wrong. When he’d found her in the office, Derek had been primed for a disagreement. He’d been so sure she’d end up breaking his heart, just like his mother. Izzy was right. The first opportunity he had to find a fault in their relationship, he used to shove her out of his life and avoid any future hurt.

  “What have I done?” he whispered. Derek didn’t even know where Izz
y lived, so how could he try to make amends?

  There was someone who knew, though. Leaving the mess of paper and glass on the floor, he headed for the front door.

  Derek drove to Silver Acres retirement home like a bat out of hell and then scanned the parking lot for Izzy’s car. He momentarily rested his forehead against the cold steering wheel. He had been so preoccupied on the drive that he’d forgotten to switch on the heater. A chill coursed through his veins, one that had nothing to do with the numbing winter. Izzy had been so upset, she’d probably traveled straight home. He prayed she was okay and cursed himself for the millionth time for being such an idiot.

  He swung open the car door, faced a flash of glacial air, and crunched through the snow to the building. The elevator was overburdened with a line of family members carrying brightly wrapped holiday gifts and seniors dressed for the festive occasion, so Derek ran up the stairs. He arrived at Gram’s door breathless, lifted his hand, and knocked.

  Some of the tension in his shoulders released when footsteps sounded on the other side of the wall and the door opened. At least he still had some connection to Izzy, and with it, the hope of finding her. Gram stood in the threshold wearing a long red dress, matching lipstick, and a puzzled expression.

  “I knew that wasn’t my granddaughter’s knock.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you here to tell me why Izzy missed our Christmas lunch?”

  “I’m the reason for it.” For a moment, Derek wasn’t sure if she’d let him in, but Gram stepped back, allowing him space to enter.

  “I hope Izzy’s all right.” Gram turned and walked into the kitchen. “Take a seat. I’m fixing some drinks. You look like you dug your way out of a grave, boy.”