‘I love you.’ — He had expected to be shocked. Had expected to feel fear or panic when he said it. He had been thinking the words for weeks, o... course. Swallowing them each of the numerous times they’d hovered on his lips. Knowing at some point he wouldn’t be able to prevent them from darting out and then they would be out there, hanging between them. Forcing them to face the inevitable. He had desperately wanted to avoid it. Not because the words weren’t true, they felt like the truest thing. Bella. as her uncle called her was imagining her time as a child, dancing through the rows of roses her mother had planted. Bellas mother, had been a very beautiful woman of dutch decent. Her hair had fell down her back in ringlets of auburn chestnut and she smelled of the roses in which she planted. Bella was named after her mother, and her uncle told her often how she looked so much like her. Sighing Bella looked over at the door, the maid would be there any moment to announce supper. The. More

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