Love, After Dark

Chapter 12

The hallway stretched wide and elegant, bathed in soft light that spilled in from tall windows placed at perfect intervals. Large, ornate frames leaned against the walls, empty for now, waiting patiently to be filled with memories yet to be made. Boxes sat neatly along the edges, carefully placed so that even with everything still unpacked, the space never felt cramped. “Even the hallway is bigger than our old living room,” Sia muttered.

Just beyond the staircase, a bedroom door stood slightly ajar. Curious, we stepped inside. The room was beautiful. It had soft blue walls, delicate accents, and carefully chosen décor that felt calm and refined. The bed was neatly made, plush pillows stacked just right. It looked like something straight out of a luxury catalog. “It’s pretty,” I said slowly, tilting my head. “But… not really our style.” Sia frowned thoughtfully. “Yeah. Too calm. Too… grown.” Then she spotted the boxes stacked near the closet, bold black marker scrawled across the sides. GUEST ROOM “Oh,” she said, grinning. “That explains it.”

We stepped back into the hall and continued to the right, passing a full bathroom decorated in soft greys and the same pale blue as the guest room. Everything matched. The tiles, towels, even the subtle metallic finishes. Just beyond it was another bedroom, still half put together, but clearly part of the same design story. Boxes inside read GUEST 2, and even unfinished, it was undeniably elegant.

A little farther down the hall, at the very end, stood a door that felt… important. We exchanged a look before opening it. The room inside was enormous. A California king bed anchored the space, dressed in rich black, tan, and gold- Mom’s favorite color combination. Crown molding traced the ceiling, adding a touch of old-world luxury, and two massive floor-to-ceiling windows let in golden light through long, dramatic drapes. “Okay,” Sia whispered. “This has to be Mom’s.”

We stepped into the walk-in closet and froze. It was the size of my old bedroom. Boxes lined one side labeled MARCUS, neatly stacked, while the opposite end featured a stunning vanity and built-in shelves with glass displays for handbags, shoes, sunglasses-things we’d only ever seen in stores. Boxes labeled ANNA sat nearby, waiting to be unpacked. In the center stood an island with designated spaces for his and her jewelry. “This isn’t a closet,” I said faintly. “This is a boutique.”

Back in the bedroom, another door led into the master bath. Inside was a standalone soaking tub that looked like it belonged in a spa, and a massive glass shower with polished fixtures that gleamed under soft lighting. We were still staring when Mom stepped into the doorway. She gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes slowly traced the room, the closet, the bath, every luxurious detail. She didn’t speak at first. She couldn’t. “Oh my…” was all she managed. For once, she looked completely stunned. As we quietly backed out, we realized something all at once. “Our rooms,” Sia said, excitement bubbling, “are still on the other end.”