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bites, and he’s demolishing his bowl. I think Aidan stress eats, whereas I can barely keep anything down.

Finally, he lets out a soft sigh, looking defeated. “Talk to me, Ivy. I need to know what’s in your head.”

I kick around the pasta. “I don’t know, Aidan. I’m barely registering right now.”

His eyes fill with concern. “Ivy…” He fidgets in his chair, clenching a first and unclenching. “I’m trying, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do when you’re like this. Guide me, baby.”

I look back at him, feeling a fissure in my chest at the lost look on his face. “This time, Aidan, I don’t know how to,” I confess weakly.

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“No.”

“We can go for a walk.”

“It’s really cold out there. I think it’ll snow soon.”

“I’ll take you on a trip somewhere warm. Do you like Mexico?”

I just give him a dry look. “No, Aidan…relax, okay?”

But he’s not relaxing. His shoulders are tense as he watches me. “Are you thinking of leaving me?”

I shake my head quickly. “No, no, Aidan, I don’t want to do that.”

He should feel relieved, but he doesn’t look like it. He’s appearing more strained. “Do you love me, Ivy?”

Just like that, he looks like a little boy. His eyes peer at me with sadness, trying to read me. I look back, feeling choked up all of a sudden because I know I’m not doing a good enough job consoling him, but…my head is a mess, my heart is constantly beating chaotically in my chest and I’m hurting.

“Yes,” I whisper to him, feeling my eyes water. “Yes, I love you, Aidan. I know that I do.”

Again, he doesn’t feel relieved. He just stares at me – into me – lost and confused.

He gathers the plates when we’re done and paces. He dumps them in the kitchen, comes back, stares out the window and then me, and then he’s pacing again.

*

Aidan is trying hard to use what he knows works to soothe me.

He fucks me.

He doesn’t stop.

He’s pouring his soul into me. He’s making his fears known and then he’s hiding from them by taking it out on my body.

His focus is no longer on my body, either. When he takes me, he’s over me, my legs are spread for him. He fucks me, watching my face like it’s all he needs to see to get there. He kisses me tenderly, making love to me, whispering my name like a worship.

“Come on,” he tells me as he watches me get closer. “I want you to look at me, Ivy, want to see it in your eyes, baby.”

He wants to see it, he repeats, and he doesn’t have to explain. He wants to see my love, my devotion to us; he wants to see me stripped and naked, my soul bare to him.

It’s not working, and there’s a pain in his eyes that hits me layers deep. I come and then I stroke his face tenderly, apologizing wordlessly.

He doesn’t look back.

*

Something is very wrong with me. Days go by and the darkness looming over us turns into a storm cloud. It’s getting harder to ignore, harder to breathe. I'm not feeling well.

I hear him at night talking to someone. He sounds quiet but sad. Sometimes he sounds desperate. One of the times I hear him call her by her name.

Ruth.

He’s talking to his grandmother. He’s seeking some kind of reassurance that he isn’t getting from me. I toss and turn and feel like I’m fucking everything up because this stupid fucking heart of mine doesn’t want to open up.

I’m not being fair, am I? I should have waited. He was right to resist me after all. Turns out my mother knew what she was talking about all along.

She was worried about me, and I tried to prove her wrong, but now I just want to run. Run back to her because she was right. Everything hurts and I’m down and I don’t know how to fix this.

I'm crying too much, shutting down too often, hurting and pushing him and everyone else away.

I don’t know how to make him happy.

Aidan

Ruth: If she wants space, you must respect that. If she needs time to heal, you must give her it. You must be prepared to let her go, even if it’s just for a little while.

I shake my head at Ruth’s message. It’s not what I want to hear. Every inch of me resists the thought of having to let Ivy go.

It’s not going to happen.

But the more I’m around Ivy lately, the more I’m feeling the distance she’s putting up. I can’t get through to her, and it’s making me lose my mind. It's happened so suddenly, triggered by Derek, or maybe this was a slow build up and it's finally taken its toll.

As a result, I’m back to being a cunt in the office because it’s all I know. It’s a cover I like to maintain to ward off everyone, to keep everyone out of my reach.

I’m hardly present, my mind has strayed, and I can’t help but think of her every minute of every fucking day, and the more I reason myself about it, the more I know Ruth is right.

And it drives me mad.

Ruth: Aidan, I said this to you once, a quote I read, and I think it will resonate a second time, my darling boy.

I know the quote she’s talking about, and I damn her silently for bringing it up. Goddammit, Ruth.

Ruth: Healing doesn’t mean the damage never existed. It means the damage no longer controls our lives.

Ruth: If she needs time to heal, you must obey.

Thirty

Ivy

We’re eating out, and tonight everything feels okay between us. Aidan is in a good mood, and I’m just happy to get out of work and relax in a fancy restaurant with the most beautiful man on earth.

We can talk about

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