Mister West by R.J. Lewis (animal farm read .TXT) 📕

the stove. Then I wander to my bedroom and not Aidan’s. I open my closet and step inside, feet hitting the countless bags I still haven’t unpacked because I knew, I knew what I might find.

I drop to my knees and empty all of them. Clothes and make-up and stupid, pointless girly shit I didn’t even remember having are sprawled out in a giant mess around me. I’m hunting something down. A memory. Something I know will break me if I see it, but I have to know it’s there, I have to know it happened.

I’m shaking and sucking in panicked breaths, terrified Ana might not have packed it after all.

“Don’t let him have it,” I whisper desperately. “He’ll have thrown it away.”

He doesn’t deserve that shoebox.

I crawl to another corner of the closet, digging deep in other bags, and then it happens. My fingers brush along something hard. I pull out that familiar blue shoebox, my heart lighting up in my chest.

I open it and stare at the contents.

My heart is beating slowly but painfully. Every beat feels like a bullet of pain.

I pull out the tiny little onesie. The first one she’d ever worn. It’s got a pattern on it like that of a prisoner’s and says “9 months Inside” on the front, but she never made it to 9 months. It’s so tiny. I bring it to my nose and breathe it in, trying to remember the scent of her. Please, smell like her. Tears flow out of my eyes as I set it down and continue to look through the box. I pick up her hospital tag with her name and kiss it. Then I find her ultrasound pictures, and now I really can’t keep it together.

This is why I preferred familiarity. I preferred the numbness it provided. I preferred escaping this pain. It was easier to accept what happened. Isabella came out to soon, lungs not developed enough, and I blamed myself everyday for not being able to carry her longer. Until I stopped blaming myself and ignored the thoughts. I ignored the pain and focused on the routine of life.

It took months to feel numb, and during that time, Derek spat it and fucked another woman. Maybe countless more even. I don’t know. But when that pain set in, that’s when I needed to run. I packed my shit, ignored his pleas and took off to my mother’s where I wound up ignoring my pain some more.

But ignoring the pain isn’t working anymore.

Being with Aidan West is like ripping off a deep wound I’ve tried to heal with Band-Aids. Everything is coming to the surface, oozing out of me.

“Ivy?”

His voice breaks through the quiet. I look up. Aidan is standing out front of my closet, looking down at me with concern. I didn’t even hear him coming home. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here.

When I don’t respond, he slowly approaches me. His eyes scan the closet, settling on the ultrasound photos in my hand and then the shoebox next to me.

“Hey,” he whispers soothingly, dropping down to his knees beside me. His arms come around me.

“I’m fine,” I start to say.

“You’re not. You’re not fine, Ivy. Tell me what’s going on.”

I don’t know where to start.

I look down at the box. “Derek is leaving.”

Aidan stares at me hard. “Does that bother you?”

“No, no…He’s checked himself into a rehab or something, and he’s found someone to take over the lease.”

Aidan doesn’t look surprised. “He’ll be gone, and you won’t have to worry about him coming back. Isn’t this a good thing?”

Now I’m staring at him suspiciously. “Was this your doing?”

“Him leaving?” He shrugs. “I had a word with him when I pulled you out of there all that time ago.”

“What did you say?”

He looks tired. “I made some threats.”

“Aidan…”

He gives me a short smile. “Ivy, I told him to fuck off. Said I’d take care of the apartment, have someone take it over in due time. I had to get a lot of things repaired first. That's why it took so long. There wasn’t a fucking wall he didn’t punch through, the door to the bathroom was barely hanging on, and the carpet was destroyed. He…” Aidan pauses, looking angry now. “He is a piece of fucking shit, Ivy. I don’t regret pushing him out.”

“Did you put him in that rehab too?”

“I gave him money as an incentive to fuck off. Him going there is of his own doing.”

My mouth parts in shock. “How much money did you give him?”

Aidan looks away. “Doesn’t matter, does it? Point is he fucked right off the second I wrote him that check. If you have a soft spot for that dick, now’s the time to harden it.”

“I don’t,” I argue, shaking my head. “I don’t have a soft spot for Derek, but…I’m coming undone just remembering everything, Aidan. I’m…” I let out a shaky breath as I quickly place everything back into the shoebox and close it. “I’m not in a good place, okay? I need to just sit here and think.”

Aidan is staring at the shoebox now. “Are you going to tell me about her?”

“No,” my voice comes out harder than I intended. I quickly soften it. “No, Aidan, please, not now. I’m not ready, okay?”

He studies me. “Okay, baby, I understand.”

*

Aidan leaves me alone in the closet to collect myself. By the time I’m out, he’s set up the table in the dining room with the pasta I made. His suit jacket is off, along with his tie. He’s unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and kicked off his shoes. He fills a glass of wine for me as I sit down at the head of the table.

He looks unsure of himself as he sits down next to me, peering at me with concern. I want to lay a hand over his and reassure him, but I’m still out of it, still processing.

We eat in silence. I take a few