Beautifully Revealed (Beautifully #2)


by Bethany Bazile

Prologue

Isabella

20 years earlier

“Mommy, Mommy, look what Daddy got me!” I squeal as I skip into the room. “I’m a princess, Mommy.” My mother swings around, her bleach blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders like luxurious satin flowing in the wind.  Her grey eyes look exactly like mine, except they’re cold and empty. The haughty air she exudes always makes me feel inferior. Maybe I caught her on another one of her bad days because she’s looking at me that way again. I think she wants me to leave her alone but I want her to see that I can be a princess.

“You’re not a princess and you never will be. I don’t know why your father wastes his time making you think you’ll ever be as beautiful as I am. You won’t.” She grabs the crown off my head, snaps it in half and throws it across the room. It feels like she tore my heart in two, tears well in my eyes and I fight them. I fight as hard as I can to keep them in, but they pour out anyway.

“You’re such a fucking baby. Real princesses don’t cry, plus you look ugly when you cry,” she sneers at me.

If I knew what I had done wrong to her I would fix it, then she wouldn’t hate me so much. I wipe my tears with the back of my hand and walk towards her. She towers over me in her stilettos, her face and make up are perfect, and she’s much like what I think an angel would look like.

“Why do you hate me?” My voice screeches and I wish I could take back my question when she begins to laugh at me.

“I don’t hate you,” she squats down and looks me in the eye. “I just don’t care about you. I never wanted you when your father forced me to keep you and I want you even less now.  I wish you would get the point and stay the Fuck. Out. Of. My. Face.” She turns and strides out the room with the style and grace of a queen. The queen of hearts, who just walked out with the blood from my torn heart all over her hands.

I knew that day I was finished trying to impress her, finished trying to understand her and finished trying to make her love me. She hates me and what hurts the most is that there is no way I can fix it, no way to make her see that I’m worthy of her love.

I pick up the halves of my crown and sit on the couch trying to fit the jagged edges back together. Somewhere deep inside my eight-year-old brain I knew that much like my heart, once it was broken there was no way to get all the pieces back together the way it originally was. There’s always the smallest little fragments that fly off into the distance, lost to me forever.

“What’s the matter, baby?” My dad walks into the room and sits down next to me. I should tell him about Mom, but I never do. He loves her and I don’t want to hurt him by telling him how mean she is to me. She’s always so sweet and sugary towards me when he’s around. It was confusing at first, the back and forth switches in her attitude towards me. As I got a little older I realized that it was all an act for my dad. I could only imagine how much more she would hate me if I told him how she treats me.

“I broke my crown,” I sputter, tears pouring out my eyes as my dad wraps me in his arms.

“That’s okay sweetheart, you don’t need a crown to be my princess.”

I already knew that, I was just hoping I could be her princess too. I cry against my father’s chest, the ache from my mother’s hate burning a hole into my heart. He sweeps me up into his arms and carries me to my room then lies down next to me in my big princess bed and holds me. The love I feel in his arms doesn’t erase the pain from my mother’s words, but it dims the burn until I fall asleep.

Chapter 1

Isabella

“Ella! I’m going to be late,” Liam calls from the foyer. I hop into the room on one heel while trying to put my other shoe on. Liam’s crisp blue pinstripe suit jacket is hanging open. The matching vest is buttoned up and stretches across his muscular body perfectly. My eyes slide down his body and stop at his snug fitted crotch. The distinct bulge is always present, even when he isn’t aroused.

“I told you not to get in the shower with me.” I smile at him as I straighten up and grab my purse off the table. Mornings with Liam are the happiest part of my day. Waking up with my face cuddled into the crook of his neck has a serene affect on me.

“I was trying to save us time,” he says, pulling me into his arms and nuzzling my neck. “Besides I can’t function at work without my morning dose of that sweet, wet-”

“Liam!” I scream at him as his fingers slide up my skirt and skim the top of my garter. “Stop, you’re going to blame me if you’re late.”

Creative writing doctoral programme uk | Watch Movie | saison 4, épisode 16 - Une douleur trop forte