Fated Series. Book #2
"Be possessive of me, own me, keep me, because if you do then nothing and no one else can." - Maddox.
My name is Maddox Vallero, and I'm dead.
Well, that's not quite true. I'm alive in the breathing, walking, talking sense-but...
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Sophia.
Silk robe hanging off the side of my bare leg, I sat unmoving on the side of my bed, not ready to move an inch even though I knew I should be showering already. It's six twenty, and usually by this time I've already started my day, but today I'm exhausted. Today, I'm starting flat at the ground, my muscles feeling like I've been through a marathon, and my mind in pure shambles as if I've sat through a six-hour therapy session. The headache forming already started wreaking havoc over me. All of this tiredness might have been because I spent the majority of my night sitting outside of Jax's bedroom drowning in guilt and shame from how badly he was crying.
Sleep training is a bitch.
I've never felt shitter in my entire life.
Mom guilt? A real and serious thing.
At this point we have a whole routine before bed. We start after dinner, get him washed and ready for bed. We read a book together, say goodnight, and all goes well. He tends to fall asleep just fine, but somewhere in the middle of the night he wakes and turns into a little screaming monster. He won't stop wailing until I put him in my bed or until he screams himself raw and finally gets tired before passing out. And I feel rotten and heartsick the entire time it's happening, wanting to comfort him and take away all the fears he has, but I understand by doing so I cave to his requests. We'll only end up back in the same situation, him in my bed and not learning to be independent.
I'd be lying if I said that was the only thing that kept me awake, because even after Jax fell asleep I spent countless hours sitting on the ground with my body slumped in the darkness humming around me. Drained of energy, I sat there in the quietness that I wished would sink into my mind and shut off my thoughts. But it didn't... and so I sat stuck in my head. Invaded and rendered incapable of restfulness with Maddox filling my every breath. Even far from me, I feel him in me. Even far from me, I love him. Even heartbroken, devastated, tired, and alone again, I'm a mess of emotions for him.
I hated it. Hated how much I'm incapable of controlling myself when it came to him. I'm better than this. I shouldn't allow a man to be what finally breaks me... but Maddox is no regular man. I shouldn't be wallowing in sadness over a breakup... but Maddox wasn't just forgettable. He overran me inside, slowly breaking barriers and creating pathways that all end up connecting together, and before I knew it everywhere I looked, I met him.
Before I knew it, I was risking my entire life's work for him.
Fuck me, I feel like I'm losing my ability to think straight the second he enters my thoughts. It's pathetic, and I feel like I'm failing so badly right now because I can't even form the strength to get out of bed.
I might be putting up a great front at the office, but it's only because I've mastered the ability to never allow anyone to see past my steeled expression. He can't know I'm hurting from this. But it's fucken Maddox, and yesterday my unshaken expression fell when he found a way to break me again, looking at me with eyes full of clear storms that showed the truth of his pain... mouthing that he missed me. I almost staggered backwards; almost being the key word because I managed to barely react. His confession stung, of course, hurting me deeply enough that I left that office after it, and hid in the bathroom for an extra five minutes. Was I pissed about him ignoring my wishes and bluntly blurting out his feelings? I wish I were. I wish it were that simple, but all I feel is aching longing, and seizing pain. I can't even be mad because I'm trying to keep it together through the mess.
