Sleep was impossible after the call with Alex. His voice lingered in my mind—soft, controlled, yet so oddly tender. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable to quiet the racing thoughts that kept circling back to him. To the way his voice seemed to wrap around me, leaving a warmth I didn't know how to shake. He was just down the hall, but it felt as if he were right there, in the room with me, watching, waiting.
Frustrated by the restless energy buzzing in my chest, I decided to focus on something else—Aiden's gifts. It wasn't just a distraction; it was a way to calm my nerves. I slipped off the bed and settled on the floor by the pile of designer boxes, my heart still fluttering from the phone call.
Focus, Ivy. It's just packing.
I sifted through the boxes, my fingers tracing the elegant textures, but I paused when I saw the labels. Chanel. Prada. Strange names, foreign to my simple brain. I frowned, shaking my head. They didn't mean anything to me, but they were beautiful all the same. The black box had a sleek, sophisticated charm, but the blue one had a soothing, serene quality.
"Ugh, why is this so difficult?" I muttered, frowning at the boxes. The labels meant nothing to me, but the boxes themselves were beautiful. I wasn't sure which one to use. They both seemed so perfect in their own way. Minutes ticked by as I agonized over the choice. Eventually, the blue one won. It reminded me of the sky back home—calming, comforting. Perfect for Aiden.
With that settled, I grabbed the shopping bag from my bedside and returned to my little corner on the floor. One by one, I unwrapped the items, my hands trembling slightly as I placed the regal chess set inside the box. Then came the plush dragon and a book I'd picked out just for him. It wasn't much, but to me, it was everything. I wanted Aiden to feel loved, to feel like he still had a piece of home, even in this strange new world we were living in.
As I slid back to admire my work, a soft giggle escaped my lips. Perfect. Pride filled my chest, a rare, quiet happiness that made my heart swell. For a brief moment, everything felt right—until my eyes fell on the bold 'Prada' label again. It felt too... unfamiliar, too far from who I was and who Aiden was. I needed to cover it.
Standing, I scanned the room for something—anything—that could mask the name. But nothing stood out. I let out a soft huff of frustration, my gaze darting around in the dim light. The only option was to go downstairs and look for some ribbon or fabric, even if it was late. Maybe no one would notice me sneaking around.
Stepping lightly, I made my way down the hall and crept down the stairs, each step careful, but my nerves prickled with unease. The house was eerily silent, the shadows stretching long across the walls. The kind of silence that reminded me of places I never wanted to return to.
It's just the dark, Ivy. Don't be ridiculous.
Creak.
My breath caught. I froze on the step.
"Who's there?"
My voice was barely a whisper, but fear clenched my throat as the soft flicker of light danced across the room. I turned sharply, my heart hammering against my ribs. My hands fumbled against a nearby stand, grabbing hold of a vase.
It's happening again...
My pulse quickened. My vision blurred with the overwhelming rush of fear. Footsteps—slow, deliberate—echoed through the darkened space, and suddenly I was back in that alley. The men...their faces…their sneers... The fear, the helplessness. My grip tightened on the vase, my body shaking with terror. I wasn't going to be that girl again. Not this time. I would fight back.
My breath came in shallow gasps, my vision spinning as the footsteps grew closer. Sweat ran down my spine, cold and sharp. My heart raced, thundering in my ears, drowning out all logic.
No...please, no…
Suddenly, my legs gave way beneath me, and I collapsed to the floor, clutching the vase as if it were my last lifeline. Tears poured from my eyes, hot and uncontrollable. I couldn't stop the shaking, couldn't stop the memories from crashing over me like a relentless tide. I was that girl again—small, broken, trapped.
The vase slipped from my hands, shattering on the floor, but I barely registered the sound. All I could feel was the overwhelming terror, the weight of the past dragging me down. I didn't care that my hands were cut, that blood was mixing with the fragments of porcelain. I couldn't care.
And then, warmth.
A hand—strong but gentle—wrapped around my wrist, stopping my frantic movements. Another hand lifted my chin, coaxing me to look up.
"Ivy," a familiar voice murmured, soft yet firm.
Through the haze of my panic, I forced myself to focus on the face in front of me. Alex. His sharp, cold exterior melted for just a second as he knelt before me, his eyes scanning my face with concern. His hands steadied me, grounding me in the moment, pulling me out of the nightmare.
"I'm here. It's okay," he said, his voice low and soothing.
My chest still heaved, and my tears didn't stop, but the terror began to ebb away. Slowly, I blinked, the world coming back into focus. I wasn't in that alley. I wasn't alone. Alex was here.
Without thinking, I threw myself into his arms, clutching him as if he were the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. He stiffened at first, but then his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. His warmth seeped into me, chasing away the lingering cold.
I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that—me sobbing quietly into his chest while he held me in silence—but eventually, my breathing slowed. The fear began to dissolve, leaving behind a strange sense of comfort I didn't expect.
Alex pulled back slightly, his fingers brushing a stray tear from my cheek. His gaze softened, and for the first time, I saw something in his eyes I hadn't noticed before—something almost... tender.
"You're safe," he whispered, his voice rough but sincere. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. I believed him.