Returning Red

#38: Clues.

shh, bury all the secrets underground

𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐒𝐞𝐧

She was right. An hour of a hot shower is exactly what I needed to redeem myself and prepare to endure Emily for another five days until all the commemorations are over. I step out into our suite and things on Bella's side of the bed look messy. 

Her foot-mat is misaligned, her pillows are messed up, and her blanket is pulled up. The only thing I adored about her transformed self was the acquired OCD. My OCD is a topic that has been made fun of since high school. She herself made fun of it a lot of time. But it didn't take a genius to figure out her obsession with alignment and organized stance of arrangement. I loved how she kept mending and re-arranging things until she was satisfied. 

I walk to the closet, making a mental note that I need to align her side of the bed before leaving the room. I'm wearing a long floral maxi dress that doesn't stick to my body. I cannot have clothes touching my legs when I'm sweating like a pig. I pull my hair up and secure the strands of it with a clutch pin. 

Getting ready has become a daily habit now. With all my family members coming from India, they would be disappointed if they caught me looking homeless. Family and relatives come bearing a lot of expectations. It's my responsibility to make them happy. I exhale as I looked at my completely fresh face. My eyeliner isn't too long but the wing makes my eyes less sleepy. My lipstick is a dark maroon because it's going to become dark in three hours, and I'm sure Emily won't let me come back into my room again. 

I put on wedges that accent my heels more than my toes so the fact that my toenails are chipped can be conveniently ignored. I strap a watch on my left wrist and some bracelets on my right. I slip on my engagement ring and as soon as I see it on my finger, I can't help but smile. He had it custom-made the way I dreamt of it. I slip on three other rings and a white pearl necklace with pearl stud earrings that match the neckpiece. 

I grab my phone before hurrying to Bella's side of the bed. I adjust the pillow in alignment with mine, I smoothed out the quilt and remove the wrinkles on it. I bend down to align the foot-mat when my wedges hit the ends of her suitcase. I try to push it but it dawns on me that she's left it open. Ugh, she must've been urgent. I don't want the housekeeping people to rummage our suitcases so I pull them out to close them properly. 

I find a black box inside the suitcase that is haphazardly closed. I open the box, hoping that it's not a wedding present that I've so unethically spied on. There are compartments and a blue ID card catches my eye. I pull it up and my hands begin to tremble at the HANDGUN LICENSE written in bold letters at the top of the card. I let it fall inside the box because the name alone terrifies me. 

"No, I shouldn't be snooping through her stuff without her permission. This is wrong," I shake my head as I exhale and kneel against her bag. I ignore the goosebumps arising on my arm as I re-arrange the things inside the black box to the way it was. 

My hands fall on a black matte handle and I pull it up. "Holy shit," I fall back onto the ground again. I'm holding a gun. There's a gun under my bed. She has a gun under our bed. I can't even steadily hold the gun because I'm shaking so much. I put everything back into the box, and clasp it shut. I zip up her suitcase and push it completely under our bed. 

I need five minutes to regain my self-consciousness. I hold my head as I type out a message in the group. The bin needs to know this. We were right. There was something wrong. They weren't wrong in assuming it. Lee has always been right. I pull the key card out of its slot and run out of the room.