Dear diary,
Gabriel has named the house La Pearla.
The Pearl.
After me.
I stood in front of the massive structure. It dominated a large portion of the land and yet it fell short of the vastness of it. As we entered through the gate and onto the drive we were surrounded by large gardens on either side. The Driveway was lined with roses, my favourite. It ended in a circular pattern, at the center of it was a huge fountain.
The water of it sprayed onto the twelve figures of the Greek gods. Facing upon the entry was Zeus, Poiseidon and Hades. Flanked on each side were the six goddesses, Hera, Demeter, Aphrodite, Athena, Artemis. And facing the house were Apollo, Ares, Hephaestus, Hermes. Each posed in ways that truly captured their personalities. Whoever the artist was, he was really good at it.
Matching the grandiosity of the fountain was our home.
Gabriel said that we could raise our children here. Whenever, we had them that was. Little did he know that a child was already on its way to us.
A huge line of staff stood along the steps that lead to the house. One of the woman, Venessa, the housekeeper asked two men, Icar and Fedrick to open the door for us.
The first thing I saw was a large Chandelier hanging down from a high ceiling. It was made of glass and diamonds weaving in an intricate pattern, curving upwards and blossom open for candles. I had only ever seen such a chandelier belong to the queen, yet here I was having one welcoming me into my new home.
This chandelier was now a symbol of our struggle. The struggle we once faced to earn this kind of money. We were not a part of a legacy aside from our name. Monero once was a name spoken only circles of aristocracy. Through years of gambling and alcohol, it was forgotten. By the time, Gabriel was born the only thing left to his name was debt. So much of it. His father had squandered everything his mother had earned and some more between the long legs of prostitutes and expensive bottles of liquor talking about the royalty of the good old days. When, he died at fourty five, it had felt like fourty five years longer than he should have lived.
To make matters worse, an uneducated Gabriel still had an ailing mother. With barely any means to earn a living his debt increased. For years after Gabriel and I married we struggled. To clear the debts. It was so bad that there were days we went to sleep without a grain in our stomach. But, those days were over. Securing a small loan from his uncle, Gabriel and I worked meticulously to now be able to afford this luxury.
To finally afford the luxury of a child. And give him what we never got. To give him a chandelier I looked at and always wanted.
I will tell you all about the house later now, diary. Gabriel is calling me. And I still haven't seen half of it.
Love,
P