Page 52 of Goldflame
I abandon the planner and drift to the nightstand beside his bed. It’s cluttered with empty protein bar wrappers and beverage containers, because the maidsrarely come in here to clean. But I haven’t looked inside yet.
I yank open the drawer. Inside is a prescription bottle of pain pills (for migraines he never mentioned having), a phone charger, a small notepad with more coded entries, and?—
Wait.
Pushed to the very back of the drawer, something red catches my eye. I reach in and pull out a small velvet box.
My heart hammers against my ribs as I hold it in my palm. It’s heavier than it looks, the velvet soft against my skin. I shouldn’t open it. I know I shouldn’t. But does it really matter now?
With trembling fingers, I lift the lid.
“Oh my God,” I gasp.
Nestled in black satin is a necklace that makes my breath catch. It’s an emerald eternity necklace, the deep green stones set in a delicate gold chain that sparkles even in the dim light of the bedroom. Diamonds are scattered between the emeralds like stars, creating a constellation that would circle the wearer’s throat.
I recognize the design immediately—KATKIM, one of the designers I’d randomly mentioned liking when we passed a jewelry store in downtown Seattle last year. I’d stopped to look at the window display, but Adrian had pulled me along saying we were late for dinner.
Yet… he’d been listening. He’d remembered.
My fingers shake as I lift the necklace from its velvet pillow. It’s exquisite—the kind of piece that’s meant to be an heirloom, passed down through generations. And it’s worth the cost of a car.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I rush to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. I fasten the necklace around my throat with clumsy fingers.
“It’s stunning,” I whisper to myself.
Is that what he would’ve said to me once I put it on?
“You’re stunning, Aurelia.”
I swallow hard. What am I doing? Just living in fantasies. He never once called me “stunning.” And maybe this necklace wasn’t even for me. He did have mistresses I tried to ignore…
I start to put the necklace back in its box and forget I ever found it. But as I’m adjusting it, something crinkles against my fingers. There’s a folded piece of paper tucked into the side of the box. I pull it out and unfold it.
Neat, precise handwriting. Adrian’s handwriting. It reads:You said this necklace was beautiful. Not as beautiful as you, Aurelia.
Six words. Just six simple words that crack my heart wide open.
I move to the bed so I can sit down and read the note again. I’m not hallucinating, am I? Adrian really bought this for me. Wanted to tell me such sweet words, and…
I press the note to my chest as tears flood my eyes and spill down my cheeks in hot, messy tracks. A sob rips from my throat.
Who were you, Adrian?
He never gave me jewelry. Never called me beautiful. Not once in ten years. Not for birthdays, not for anniversaries, not for Valentine’s Day. It was one of the many ways he kept me at arm’s length, one of the countlessmethods he used to maintain that careful distance between us.
So why this? He must’ve bought it sometime this past year. When was he planning to give it to me? Before I broke up with him? After? Was it a gift he’d purchased months ago and forgotten about? Or was it something he bought more recently—a way to get me back?
I press my palm against my mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that wrack my body.
“Why?” I choke out to the empty room. “Why didn’t you ever show me this side of you?”
Questions continue to assault my thoughts, each one sharper than the last. Did he love me—even a little? Was there something real beneath all those years of coldness and control? What secrets died with him that night?
My heart aches to know, such a needy ache. How am I going to live with so many unanswered questions the rest of my life?
And I know, with certainty now, I’ll miss him forever. Not just the Adrian I knew—the distant, controlled man who treated me like an accessory—but the Adrian I never got to meet. The one who bought this necklace, who wrote this note, who might have actually cared for me in his own strange way.
“I wish you were here,” I whisper to his ghost, running my fingers over the emeralds. “I’d tell you everything. How I really felt. How confused you made me. How I wanted so badly to understand you.” I pause, tears still flowing. “That I have feelings for you. And maybe you’d finally tell me your truth too.”
