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There’s no visible lock on the door, but when I wrap my fingers around the handle to open it there’s a faint beep and the sound of the door mechanism unlocking.
I push the door open and lights automatically blink on revealing a staircase that leads down into darkness. This bulb is different to the sterile strip lights in the garage. It’s dim and warm, highlighting dust motes dancing in the semi-stale air.
Axel’s threat about locking me in the basement ring in my ears and I step forward on trembling legs.I will not be afraid of anything in this house. If it’s to be my home too, I will not be scared of it.
I force myself to descend the stairs, until I reach another door at the bottom. Again, it unlocks at my touch and when Ipush the door open, more automatic lights come on. A second later when my eyes adjust to the scene before me, my stomach bottoms out. My hand flies to my mouth to keep from throwing up and my knees almost give way. It’s a torture room, plain and simple. There’s no other way to describe it. And slap, bang in the middle of the room is the metal monster from my nightmares.
He wasn’t joking about locking me in a box.
Unwilling and unable to face that trigger, I climb to my feet and turn away from the room of horrors, closing the door firmly behind me. I can’t go in there. Iwon’t. Ever. If I can help it.
Forcing my legs to work, I make it back up the stairs, through the garage and into the main house. I’m in the chessboard foyer before I even think about whether or not I closed the doors behind me.
Oh well, too late now. I’m not going back to check.
Knowing Axel, he’ll have them set to automatically close and lock anyway.
To calm my racing heart, I wander around the downstairs floor of the house. The kitchen on the left is sleek and modern, immaculate. The appliances all look like they’ve never been used, same goes for the ridiculous sized dining table in the room beyond. It could seat twenty, easily, and it reminds me more of a boardroom than somewhere to sit and eat each evening. I prefer the cosy breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen that looks out over the front garden. It catches the morning sun and is much more homely than the rest of the space.
To the right of the foyer is Axel’s office, the room where we met with the wedding planner. If I want answers, it’s probably the best place to snoop. But something doesn’t pull me in that direction.
Straight in front of me, behind the wide sweeping staircase is the lounge area which I’ve briefly seen. It’s all very grand and made for show, which contradicts the isolated location andthe idea that this is their sanctuary. Everywhere is beautifully decorated, if a littledark romance aestheticfor most, but I love it.
It almost feels like the ground floor is suspended in time, waiting for someone to truly put their mark on it. Weirdly though, it feels like it could be home.
Could I be happy here?
I climb the dark wooden staircase, my footsteps echoing throughout the space. As I reach the top, the grandeur of the house unfolds before me. Black and gothic, yet oddly inviting, the second floor feels like more of a sanctuary, cocooned in a world of its own. This space isn’t for show. It’s for us.
The hallway stretches out before me, adorned with elaborate artwork and tapestries that seem to whisper stories of the past. I decide to explore the rooms one by one, each door promising a glimpse into a different facet of this mysterious home and its enigmatic owners.
The first door on my right opens into a bedroom, its walls draped in rich, dark fabrics. The bed, adorned with ornate black linens, dominates the room. It’s a room that resonates with a blend of elegance and decadence, like a setting from a romantic period novel. As I move further into the space, the arched windows reveal a view of the gardens and the dense forest beyond. The room breathes an air of secrecy, as if it holds untold tales within its walls. This space is Axel’s, of that I have no doubt.
The next door leads me into a lavish bathroom, the tiles gleaming in the dim light. The bathtub is oversized, and the mirror above the sink reflects an image of luxury. I run my fingers along the cold marble surfaces, marvelling at the opulence that surrounds me. My en suite is lovely, but it’s functional. This bathroom is pure decadence, and I can just imagine myself stretched out in the bath, bubbles up to my chin, getting lost in one of my favourite books for hours on end.
As I explore further, I discover Kaiden and Zie’s bedrooms similarly decorated to Axel’s and each with its own en-suite. The next room takes me by surprise. I’m expecting another bedroom – a guest suite perhaps. But it isn’t. It’s a blank canvas, stripped and ready for decoration.
It seems odd that in such a perfectly curated space, there would be an unfinished area. But there’s child-friendly furniture stacked in the corner of the room, a dust sheet thrown haphazardly over the items. A sudden realisation dawns upon me – this is, or will soon be, a room for a child. Painting supplies sit on the bare floorboards beside the furniture and my breath catches when I see the selected shades of pink and delicate rose-patterned accessories.
I’m flooded by a mixture of emotions.
This room is for Rose. For our daughter. Soon we’ll be able to bring her home, and this will be hers.
Tears prick at my eyes, but I feel no need to let them fall. I’m not sad. I’m overwhelmed with gratitude that Axel would do this for us. Swallowing past the lump of emotion in my throat, I decide to move on, but again I’m floored.
Adjacent to the potential nursery, I discover a fully completed room that warms my heart. It’s a nursery, decorated with care and love. Soft colours and whimsical patterns adorn the walls. The air in the room is filled with the promise of new beginnings. Axel and the others have crafted a space that speaks of their anticipation, a place where dreams are nurtured into reality.
It’s almost too much.I should take the test.But I’m terrified by the result. Before, I was scared it would be positive, but now I’m starting to fear it may be negative. And as crazy as that is, as fucking insane as that might make me seem, I can’t help that my heart belongs to these three. That I want to build a future withthem – with all of them – and to make this house a home filled with love and babies.
As I continue my journey through the upper floor, I find myself standing before a door that opens into an attic library. The scent of old books wafts through the air, and my eyes widen with delight. This is something I’ve always dreamed of – a sanctuary for my love of literature. The room is adorned with dark wooden bookshelves, each filled with tales waiting to be explored. There’s a cuddle chair and blankets, pillows and even scented candles perfectly placed throughout the space.
It’s my idea of heaven. Which the boys knew; I told them when we were kids.
In a cosy nook, a small balcony beckons, offering a view of the surrounding landscape.
Stepping onto the tiny balcony, I discover a ladder secured to the wall, which when I climb it, leads up to a rooftop terrace. It’s a jungle of exotic plants and despite the winter months, some fragrant flowers are in bloom. In the middle of the small space is a wide wooden lounger, big enough for two, that reclines perfectly.
Unable to resist, I take a seat and stretch out, wishing I’d thought to grab a blanket from the reading nook. The night air is chilly, but with the sky unfolding above me, stars scattered like diamonds against the inky canvas, it’s impossible to care or really feel the cold. It’s a breathtaking sight, absolute perfection and it reminds me of nights spent camping in the forest behind our childhood homes, sleeping outside so that we could stare at the stars all night.
