My Posh idiot (BOOK 2)

86💞

Trigger warning: there will be mentioning of mental health such as depression, suicide and trauma.

Also a heads up this story will soon be coming to an end, the chapters are just very long.

I'm thankful for those that are still reading, I understand that book is very daunting at times.

Hopefully you enjoy and don't forget to comment and vote.

Also I apologise for any typos, I will fix those in the future x

Iman Harriott ~

And just like that, that fleeting agony of knowing peace was only temporary, had come back to haunt me days later.

It remained peaceful for the rest of that day, coming to acceptance of finding the string of my heart disconnected from the home I found comfort in for months after breaking things of with my ex fiancé, now living these better moments with Alistair and Issac.

I believe this was probably a message sent from above. The heat of the burning sun and the cool breeze of summer signalling that I needed at least a full day of peace before fighting the real battle which was remaining in that fake person of happiness.

I say this because it has been hell the past few days of being discharged from the hospital. Issac's screams etched into my brain so much that when he wasn't crying, I could not tell the difference between my imagination or in real time to his tiny terrors.

Sadly Alistair took over majority of the responsibilities of looking after Issac as I just about did the basic necessities to keep my baby alive.

I pumped my breast for hours of milk, just so Issac never bothered me when I didn't want to be. I fed him. I clothed him. I changed his nappies but the most important was bonding.

I searched for that crack of light of peace, the joy I had when I bonded with Issac in the car- just the touch of his finger was enough to tell me that I was doing okay. Today I felt the complete opposite. I felt like shit. The only crack I could find was the lightening strikes that struck within my chest, constantly reminding myself I'm not doing enough.

I couldn't snap out of it, as much as I told myself this feeling will become worse if I don't try.

Was I returning back to that old path of depression when I broke up with Alistair? Was it that same dark spot I was circling myself in when I pushed everyone away because of what Harry did to me?

No it couldn't be. This was worse. I didn't want to harm myself or have sleepless nights.

My mind was going through themes of escapism- escape of my old life, my home, child-

My child...Issac...Why would my mind say that?

I quickly rid myself of those thoughts, as if they didn't even come to mind in the first place. My body which was slouched on my bed, rose up, legs swinging off the mattress that had probably taken shape to my new profound body. I rushed in the dimly lit room by the evening sun, looking for my slippers to take my leave from out of the room.

I opened my door, quickly but carefully down the stairs on high alert for Alistair and Issac. They could be anywhere and they wouldn't be on the same story as I was a couple of seconds ago. Alistair responded to my wants and needs, even if my reasons were selfish, he made sure if Issac was awake or on the verge of crying, he'd father him elsewhere.

A knot formed in my throat, just thinking of the accidental resentment I was having towards Issac, just for existing. I decided to bring him into this world, just as Alistair did, now only one of us is living up to the responsibilities we were supposed to follow.