Too Much To Hide || EDITING

c.4

      "I think I'll call him James." Adrian nods firmly, looking at me curiously.

      I fail to hide my shock. I gape at the pair, blinking.

      "That's my surname." I whisper.

      On cue, Adrian widens his eyes and scoffs, surprised by the coincidence.

      "Elizabeth James?" He says after a while.

      I flush at the sound of my full name. The last time I heard it, I was twenty one and I had just broken my mother's freezer after attempting to defrost it. I nod, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear.

      "It suits you," He mutters and fiddles with baby James.

      "And you are Adrian...?"

      "Adrian Raines." He straightens his posture, plastering a proud smirk. Wow, his name makes him cocky. James giggles at his father's composure and I try my hardest to stop myself from doing the same. Both father and son exchange fun little gestures, James laughing and coaxing a gentle chuckle from his dad. He sounds very boyish when he does; it is kind of disarming.

      As if a light bulb appears in my mind, I perk up.

      "James needs a wash."

     "Oh," Adrian leans down to sniff his son's forehead and immediately recoils from his unpleasant scent. 

      "Not an actual wash though, we'll just wipe him off with a wet cloth."

      Adrian nods, pleased with my method. "It's too late for a wash. We can cover that tomorrow."

      We both get up from the leather couch and head towards the bathroom. Before I'm allowed in, Adrian stops me. He points his head to one of the drawers in the bedside cupboard. 

      "You can find a towel in there. It's small, about the size of a large handkerchief." 

      "Okay..." I mumble. Why can't he get it himself?

      I let the two of them to go into the bathroom together and venture back towards the bed where a mahogany chest of drawers stands shining in lacquer. I pull open the first one but find no towels; it just houses his linen shirts. I try the second drawer and rummage through a little. No luck in this one either. 

      I get to the last one and feel around until I find a dark blue towel, just as it was described as a large handkerchief. I try to pull it out but stop at the sound of shuffling glass. What?

      More carefully, I drag out the towel and find a shattered frame, with crystal shards splayed across a photograph. I cautiously check over my shoulder; the running of a tap tells me he is definitely in the bathroom.

      I drag out the drawer a little further so I can inspect the photo. Adrian stands tall in it, decked in a black groom's suit with a white rose adorning his breast pocket. His long curls are tamed, combed back and away from his brows. He looks very smart but his expression seems sour and contorted as he tries, but fails, to mask an annoyed frown.

      A young woman about a year or two younger than him stands close in bridal attire, a white dress with a fish tail clinging to her lean figure. She is very tall, almost reaching his ear. I frown; my chin barely reaches up to his shoulder.

      Her red hair is gorgeously styled in a loose chignon and in her hands are a bouquet of lilies and lavenders, arching off its stem. She looks breath-taking but, like Adrian, sports an uncertain frown. Her ocean blue eyes are clouded, making her look like she was holding back tears.