the door. I double-check the nightlight before I hit the light switch and close the door. I wait a minute, listening by the door. Some days he’s a little deviant and gets up to play, but tonight he’s pretty beat. After a few minutes of silence, I walk to my own bedroom.
It fucking sucks being in here. Everything reminds me of Rick. I don’t know why I haven’t gotten rid of anything. The picture frames on the wall are full of our pictures. A couple are from my pregnancy and Jax’s birth. But then there are wedding pictures on the dresser. His dresser. I rub the back of my neck and sigh. I should take care of this. I really should. I can’t live like this. I fall back against the wall and look around the room. The comforter is a stormy blue; it’s what he picked. The rug is the modern shag one he wanted. The furniture was all his. There’s hardly anything in here that’s mine. Everything has him written all over it. At least I picked my own clothes out. Thank God he didn’t have a preference for that.
And heels. I refused to budge on that shit. Heels are my one indulgence. I don’t care if I spend a little extra on them occasionally.
I turn around and walk out of the bedroom; I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight. It seems like every other night this happens. I come to the realization that our bedroom was really his bedroom and instead of dealing with it, I just leave. I cringe as the thought hits me. I’m a stronger woman than that, but I’m so fucking tired. I’m way too tired to deal with this shit. I grin and think about messaging Sarah. That’s why I have a PA, to take care of this shit for me. I can’t message her this late though. That would make me a shit boss.
I grin as I turn on the light to the guest bedroom. This room is mine. All mine. From the antique furniture and cream paisley bedspread, to the pale aqua paint and plush chenille woven rug, it's all me. I curl my toes in the rug and sigh. I can sleep in here. I should just burn the old bedroom. After I relocate the pictures of Jax… and my heels.
I rub my sore eyes and climb into bed. I need to be up at four to make sure everything’s good with the restaurant and that the orders came in. And hopefully Jax will sleep in until seven, fingers crossed for eight, so I can get all the morning shit done before the lunch rush starts. I settle down deep into the covers and rest my eyes. Tomorrow will be a better day. I will make it a better day. I no longer have to deal with any of this shit with Rick. The familiar pain in my chest forms yet again. I’m not sure if it’s from Rick dying, or leaving me or cheating on me… or trying to take Jax away from me. That fucking bastard. I shake my head and push down the emotions. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters now. It’s all over. Paying his debt was the last thing I had to do.
My teeth grind against one another. It’s a good fucking thing they gave me his phone and I had the balls to look at it. What if I’d never seen it? “Fucking Rick,” I mutter with every bit of disdain I have left in me and roll over under the sheets.
I pull them up close to my chest and snuggle deep into the pillow top mattress. Happy thoughts. Positive thoughts. Do good things, think good things, and good things will happen. I repeat my mantra a few times and then open my eyes. I bite my bottom lip, feeling like a bitter bitch, but really – where the fuck did thinking like that get me?
I throw the covers back and head to the shower. I don’t care that it’s going to fuck my hair up in the morning by sleeping with it wet. I need a real shower. I need to wash all this shit off of me.
I clear my mind of everything and put a few drops of eucalyptus oil into the back of the shower as the room fills with steam. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. The cream marble tiles on the floor of the stall heat instantly under my