19. Xaden
NINETEEN
Xaden
The past few days with Ivy seem to have flown by. It’s been another week of working and watching Ivy with Daisy.
They’ve become even closer, if that’s possible, and Ivy even convinced me to start my little girl in preschool since she’ll be starting kindergarten next year. It’s only half-days, and Ivy picks her up and brings her home for lunch in the afternoon.
We eat lunch together before I have to go back to work, whether that’s in the home office or out meeting with people.
It’s so blissfully…normal. There aren’t items going missing, Daisy comes home with little projects she’s made, and we eat dinner together.
Like a family.
As I look over at Ivy, stirring the pot of spaghetti noodles, I can’t help but smile. She’s too preoccupied to notice, and truthfully, I don’t mind.
Watching her in her element is a joy, and it’s something I could do for hours.
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
Her phone goes off on the island, and as I’m about to grab it for her, Ivy plucks it off the counter with a grin.
It’s a familiar expression now, and I know more than ever that that smile isn’t real. I’ve seen her real smiles. They don’t look like that.
The messages and calls are the only things that still frustrate me. Ivy gets them sporadically but often enough to be noticeable. Worse, I can tell they upset her.
Even now, her mask of composure falters, and I see Ivy try to quickly shake away the sour mood that the text created.
I don’t know who’s sending them, and I really want to ask. But how can I?
I’ve spent years in therapy because of the PTSD associated with my time as a SEAL agent, and while I’m definitely not a candidate for patient of the year, I still know a thing or two.
Namely, that the symptoms of trauma are there. I see them in Ivy. She retreats into herself when the texts come in or the phone rings at odd hours of the night.
She slips away somewhere in her mind but then comes right back to reality after a moment. Sometimes, it takes Ivy longer to recover from them, though.
I really should ask, and it’s been on my mind for a while. I suppose…I just feel like I should work out my own shit before I expect Ivy to talk about hers.
A hiss pulls my attention to the pot of water, and I realize that Ivy is still clutching her phone, her stirring fallen to the wayside.
“Ivy?”
She jumps slightly, quickly flicking through the screens on her phone as she turns the heat down on the stove.
“Sorry. Distracted is all. But don’t worry,” she smiles, “the noodles are still good.”
Setting down the stack of plates I had pulled from the cupboard, I walk over to her.
“You know if something is upsetting you, I’m right here. You can always talk to me. I’m here for you.”
Ivy’s face softens, her brows pinching together as the corner of her mouth lifts up in a lopsided grin. Giving the water a good stir, Ivy taps off the wooden spoon and sets it down on the counter.
“I know.”
But this time, I’m not okay to just let it go, at least not entirely.
“I want to help, hun. And I can. I will.”
She shuffles over to me, leaning against my arm. “I know, Xade. I do. And I believe you, I swear. Everything’s fine.”
When I look down at her, I can see the conflict in her eyes. If I’m right, part of her wants to open up, to say something at last, but the rest of her holds it back, keeping her silent.
I’m not going to push her, though. It doesn’t work for one thing, and for another, I don’t want Ivy to feel like I’m demanding something from her.
So, I just kiss the top of her head, and we go back to getting ready for dinner.
Spaghetti and meatballs are eagerly eaten by the entire house when we sit down at the table for dinner. Something that’s become far more common with Ivy around.
There’s something about having the three of us gathered around for a meal that feels so good. It’s ridiculous from an objective point of view, but this normalcy has been lacking in my life.
“Yummy!” Daisy calls out, burping right after she does.
We can’t stop the laugh, but at least Ivy is quick to gain a bit of composure.
“What do you say, Daisy?” she squeaks out through a laugh.
“Excuse me!”
I shake my head as Ivy stands up from the table and begins to collect the plates. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can.”
“Eh, sit. It’s no biggie. I’m just tossing them in the sink.”
That gets another laugh, and Daisy hops down from her chair on the other side of me, heading straight to the living room.
“Where are you going, little miss?” I raise my brows at her when Daisy turns around with a sheepish expression.
“Princess Ponies?”
Rolling my head back, I nod. “Oh, that’s right. I said you could watch. Alright, go on then.”
She smiles from ear to ear and hurries off to the living room. It’s still weirdly adorable to see her grab the remote and speak into the voice command.
“Princess Ponies, please.”
Ugh, she still says please. Damn, she’s cute. This is so nice…to be happy.
Feeling like a true sap, I roll my eyes at myself. But it has been a long while since it’s been like this, and I’ll admit that I missed it.
Crunch!
The grinding sound of metal on metal rings out from the kitchen, and I spin around in my chair to face Ivy. She’s standing at the sink with her hand on the switch for the garbage disposal, which she’s now shut off.
“Oops. I think I dropped something in there.”
My heart rate is way up, approaching the damn stratosphere, and suddenly all I can see is the flaring white of headlights and flashlights.
Tires are screeching beneath me, and I can hear screaming.
“No, no, no.”
I’m there again. The night I lost control of the car. I’m going to do it all over again. My pulse hammers in my throat, which feels like it’s closing up.
I can’t breathe, and the kitchen drops away, replaced by the interior of that demolished car.
“Shit, Xade. No, come on,” I mumble to myself, but my own voice sounds lightyears away.
It swirls higher and higher, the oncoming car zooming toward me too fast to stop and too slow to get through quickly.
“Hey, you’re okay. You’re right here.” I blink rapidly as Ivy’s arms wrap around my shoulders. “You’re safe.”
She’s right in front of me, and I zero in on those green eyes of hers. “Ivy?”
“Yes, it’s me. I’m right here with you.” She nods, holding my stare with a calm look on her face. “You’re at home. You’re with me and Daisy.”
My chest squeezes, and I look back toward the living room, hearing the sounds of that cartoon playing on the TV.
I’m home. I’m really home.
“I…” I look over at her as Ivy sinks down to her knees in front of my chair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think…yeah, sorry. Wasn’t expecting that.”
She gazes up at me, her hands on mine as they lay in my lap. “It’s okay. Are you alright?”
Nodding slowly, I let out a deep exhale. “Yeah. I’m fine now.”
And then we just stare at each other, holding our gazes pinned to the other’s as the world starts to resolidify around me.
It’s not especially rare for me to be triggered like that. It’s just been a while since it happened, and this is the first time Ivy has seen it.
Part of me is embarrassed, feeling like a total chump for having a meltdown right in front of her. Still, another part is just glad that she was here to help me through it.
Dammit, I just want this to go away. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.
The sentiment isn’t new, but it feels more severe than ever. I don’t want to be this person around Ivy.
I don’t want to be her basket-case boyfriend.
There’s still a lot neither of us is saying, apparently, and how exactly can I let myself be annoyed with Ivy’s lack of communication when I’m just as bad?
“Do you want to go relax? The dishes can wait.”
I swallow, chuckling half-heartedly. “Yeah. That’d be great.”
Ivy stands, taking my hand and leading me over to the living room. We sit on the other couch so that Daisy can still stretch out, and I try to let her little show pull my mind out of the past.
We both need to be honest with each other. It’s the only conclusion that I can come to after everything that’s happened over the past few weeks.
But…it still terrifies me.
She’ll blame you. She’ll know that it’s your fault Maeve is dead.
I’ve never said those words out loud to anyone, not even the therapist I saw after Maeve’s death, and they burn inside me like acid.
Ivy’s hand squeezes mine again, and I offer her a quick smile before turning my attention back to the TV. I need her here next to me like I need oxygen, and still, I feel horrible for pulling her into my life.
She doesn’t deserve to be with someone this damaged. A killer .
My pulse kicks again, and I force myself to take a deep breath, repeating that mantra of mine in my head.
You’re here. Not there. It wasn’t your fault.
But the words aren’t sinking in past skin deep. I don’t believe them right now. And even though I’ve convinced myself of them before, today is different.
I’m not sure I will ever be free of this guilt, and I’m starting to think that it’ll pull me down into the darkness in the end.
“You’re okay, Xade. That’s the past,” Ivy whispers to me. “Let it stay behind you.”
It’s work to swallow down the knot in my throat, but I do. I swallow, and I breathe. I’m not in the past. I’m here with Ivy and Daisy.
And I’m going to do whatever I can to keep that at the front of my mind—no matter what it wants to tell me.