Beauty and Fate

Sunlight shone through the window like a blade of heat, roasting the bound leather and filling the room with a scent of freshly printed pages. The smell only a library would be so lucky to exude. A slight breeze rustled the brown curtains as they danced across the olivewood floor. It tapped the hanging chimes; they met their fate and began to sing as they brushed against each other. A sound of peace and harmony. The workings of the wind.

The chimes woke Belle, who had accidently fallen asleep at her desk, with Romeo and Juliet as a pillow. She had a stack of books on her desk and in her mind. And even though she always had her nose buried in pages, the stack never seemed to diminish. People of her hometown believed she would rather keep to herself and her books than be around people and sociable. This was true.

“Books are kind of like people. No one is the same; each story is different. And even if you don’t really like one, there is bound to be something about it that you can appreciate. There must be a reason for the author to keep writing,” Belle explained.

She wasn’t a fast reader. She soaked up every page and every word like they were her own. At the end of a book, she would fall into a sort of depression like mourning a loss. During the time between books, Belle would write. However, her words were not meant to be read - not even by her own husband, who never inquired about her writing anyway. She wrote from her heart, but not the heart he knew, the heart that she hid. The heart that was buried deep within her that she couldn’t show because it was filled with a love that she couldn’t have.

On the surface, Belle appeared to be pleasant and content. She played the character she needed to be to hide who she really was. She was constantly reading to divulge herself in the lives of those in her books so she could clear her mind of her own life. This secret of hers was like a silent torment she faced every day. Even in her dreams, this love would appear. No matter how many books she read, no matter how many characters she played, she couldn’t escape it.

As she woke to the sound of the chimes, she sat and stared at them, appreciating their beauty. All they do is exist and whichever way the wind blows, is where they go. No push-back, no resistance. They follow their fate, she thought.

She stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, filled with books old and new. Reached up, and grabbed The Great Gatsby, and the book next to it, Pride and Prejudice, and the book next to that, Love in the Time of Cholera. Until finally, her journal revealed itself sitting on the shelf, perpendicular behind the other books. She walked back to her desk journal in hand, sat down, grabbed a pen, and opened it. It was filled with her words. Words she would never say out loud:

Your bright green eyes looking into mine

Your handsome smile stopping time

I wonder if you ever think about me

And if not,

I wonder why I still wonder about you...

Suddenly Belle shut her journal and the pen in her hand was replaced with a cigarette. Moments later the sound of footsteps coming down the hall gave her a sudden burst of anxiety as she quickly buried her journal under the novels on her desk.

The loud, boisterous footsteps were her husband's, Jay. He was a proud man from a wealthy family. He never had to work for anything. If he needed money or resources, he had no hesitation asking his parents to grant his wishes. He despised getting his hands dirty and often took three showers a day. He spent his days doing whatever he pleased which usually meant enjoying music, cinema, gambling, and smoking cigars. He relied on his wife for his meals, clean clothes and linens, and affection. Without his parents or Belle, Jay wouldn’t have a clue as to how to take care of himself.

It was a beautiful summer night in June when they met. Belle’s friend was throwing a party at her parent’s beach house. There were many guests and guests of guests. Belle hardly knew anyone there. Her friend, Mary, introduced her to Jay. At first, Belle had no interest in him. She thought him to be a haughty man with little intelligence, but Jay was instantly smitten – as most men are - Belle is beautiful; her name suits her quite well. She has long, luscious brown hair and big almond-shaped eyes to match.

“Darling? Are you in here?” Jay asked as he peered into the room.

“Yes, I’m here at my desk,” Belle replied.

“Ah, there you are. Always reading, huh? Well, I am off to meet my good friend, Nick Chappelle, you remember him, right?

Immediately Belle’s heart began to race again. Chappelle. Even the mention of that name sent her heart into a spiral. But she remained seated, looking calm and slightly distracted.

“Darling?” Jay inquired.

“Oh yes, I’m sorry. I was just trying to remember – yes, yes – of course I remember him. I studied with his cousin as a child.”

“That’s right! I forgot about that. What’s his name… Chris… Tom?”

“Logan.” Bella gulped. Shivers running down her spine at the thought of mentioning this name out loud – especially to her husband. She couldn’t recall the last time his name left her lips.

Logan Chappelle. Her secret. Her first love. The subject of all her dreams. The man she compared every other man to. He was beautiful. He was cool. His green eyes piercing. His smile to die for. The way he carried himself, his sense of humor, his voice… she was in love with it all. And she had been since the moment she met him at age 7. The two grew up together in the same town and school. As children, they became friends. As time went on, they both developed feelings further than friendship but neither could admit it. Belle became literally speechless around him.

One night, at a school dance, Belle was cornered outside the building by a boy named Mark who had been admiring her for some time; however, she had no interest in him, but he wouldn’t accept no as an answer. He wanted to take advantage of her despite her pushing him away. Minutes felt like hours every second she fought back. She was tired. She was scared. Belle shivered - she could still feel his wet, unwelcome kisses on her neck every time she thought about it. Logan came out of nowhere and threw the boy to the ground, punching him over and over. Belle, feeling traumatized and frightened, ran away as fast as she could. The next week, Logan wasn’t in school. That was the last time she saw him, and she never even got to say thank you. She believed it was fate that he was there to save her, and it would be fate that brought them together again; their story isn't over yet.

“Well, I won’t be home for dinner. I’m not sure what time I’ll be home. Nick and I have a lot of catching up to do so don’t bother waiting up.”

As he left the room, Belle took another puff of her cigarette and breathed in like it was fresh air. The relief that Jay would be gone for a whole night made her giddy. She uncovered her journal and read about the green eyes she longed to see. Her mind began constructing a reality which Jay brings Nick to the house and Nick brings his cousin, or something like that. How could it be that of all the people in the world her husband could befriend, he chooses the cousin of her first (and forbidden) love. What has felt galaxies away, suddenly seems so close.

A slight breeze rustled the brown curtains as they danced across the olivewood floor. It tapped the hanging chimes; they met their fate and began to sing as they brushed against each other. All they do is exist and whichever way the wind blows, is where they go. Bella watched the chimes sway and pondered her fate. What is meant to be will always find a way, she thought.

To be continued...