It was a Saturday afternoon, day six since the breakup, and I hadn't stepped foot out of the apartment. I got up early and decided to visit the Starbucks right around the corner. I showered, put on some yoga pants and a baggy shirt. I threw my long hair up in a ponytail and headed outside. I needed to try and return to some normalcy. I reached Starbucks and ordered a skinny latte. I found a table against the window just like in Hartford. I would now claim this spot to be my "get away from everything and think" spot.

I watched out the window as the people hustled and bustled to get to their destinations. As I was sipping my latte and wishing I’d never left my apartment, my phone rang, and it was Madeline.

“Hi, honey, how are you?” she asked.

“I'm good, Mom, and you?”

“I'm fine. Just baking cupcakes for the school bake sale. I thought I'd give you a call since I hadn’t heard from you in a few days.”

No matter what the distance was or how many hours or miles there were between us, a mother’s intuition was right on track.

“Addison Rose, is something wrong?”

“No, Mom. Nothing is wrong. I’m working on this big project at work and things have been crazy busy.”

“I had a feeling something was wrong. That's why I called. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Mom, I'm fine. I promise. Just really busy lately.”

“Do you need me to come see you?”

Oh God, the last thing I needed was Madeline here making things worse.

“No, Mom. Now isn’t a good time. Like I said, I’m working on this big project and it’s taking up all my time.”

“Okay. If you change your mind, call me.”

“I will, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

I finished my coffee, walked outside, and looked up as raindrops fell upon my face. As I started walking down the street, it began to pour, but I didn't care. My clothes were getting soaked, my hair was dripping wet, and my shoes were squishing along the pavement. I believed that if I walked in the rain long enough, it would somehow wash away my pain.

I continued down the busy streets when I heard someone calling my name. I looked over and Phillip had pulled up to the curb and rolled down the passenger side window.

“Addison, please get in. You're going to catch a cold or worse.”

“No, Phillip. It's okay. Please just let me be.”

“I'm sorry, Miss Belle, but I can't do that. You're going to get sick. He's not in here, if that's what you're worried about.”

I sighed and climbed in the back of the SUV. Phillip turned and looked at me with a smile.

"I’ll take you home, Addison.”

“Where is Andrew?" I asked.

He looked at me from the rearview mirror.

“Mr. London is on a business trip.”

“Do me a favor and take me back to his apartment. I have a couple things I left there and need to pick up.”

“Very well.” Phillip nodded.

I took the elevator up to Andrew’s apartment and walked directly to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. As I was walking to his bedroom, I passed his office and stopped. I stood in the doorway and looked at the seashell sitting on his desk. Walking over to it, I picked it up. What the hell was I doing? I quickly set the seashell on his desk and headed toward the bedroom to collect my things.

As I was grabbing the last of my stuff, I was startled by a voice that came from behind.

“Addison?” Andrew spoke. “What are you doing here?”

I turned and looked at him. To my surprise, he looked rough and tired. It looked like he hadn't shaved in days and his once blue eyes had turned dark and sullen.

“You're soaked. Please change your clothes before you get sick.”

“I…I was just getting a few things I left here.”

I was shaking, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the rain or seeing him.

“Please, Addison. Take a hot shower and get into some dry clothes.” He began to walk towards me.

I put my hand up at him and he froze in place.

“You do not get to tell me anything. I’m not your concern, and you have no right to tell me to do something,” I snapped.

“I'm sorry," he spoke as he stepped back. "I can’t stand seeing you like this. Please just forget that I'm here. I'll leave. I'll do whatever you want. But please, for your own health, change out of those wet clothes," he pleaded.

I decided he was right, so I grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweater and locked myself in the bathroom. I changed into my dry clothes and towel dried my hair. When I opened the door, Andrew walked into the bedroom with a cup of hot coffee.

"Here.”

I reluctantly took the cup from his hands. What the hell was I doing? This man broke me into tiny little pieces and I was taking coffee from him. After six days of hell and pure torture, here I stood in the last place I ever wanted to be.

“Would you like something to eat?” he politely asked.

“No. I don't want anything to eat, Andrew!” I yelled.

“You look like you've lost weight.”

“Gee, under the current circumstances, eating wasn't a priority for me.”

He took a step closer.

“No, don't you dare come near me!" I snapped.

"I’ll put your clothes in the dryer.” He held his hand out.

“I don’t want you to put my clothes in the fucking dryer!” I shouted. “I want nothing from you!”

I stomped out of the bedroom and he followed me into the living room.

“I know I'm the last person you want to see or talk to right now, but damn it, you're going to let me explain.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, spun around and looked into his sad and pleading eyes. I wanted an explanation. I needed it for closure. And I sure as hell deserved one. I put both hands up.

“Fine, Andrew. Explain. I’ll give you no more than five minutes, so you better get talking.”

He let out a sigh of relief.

“Come sit by the fire to dry your hair. We can talk there."

“NO. We can talk right here!”

He stood there with his hands tucked into his pants pockets, staring at me.

“I'm listening,” I spoke.

“You already hate me, and you'll hate me even more after I tell you, but it was bound to come out sooner or later. And I swear to God, I was going to tell you everything. I needed more time. I just wish I had been honest with you from the beginning.”

“Yeah, me too," I spoke as I looked down. “You have about four minutes and then I’m out of here and we are never to see each other again. The only reason I’m letting you explain is because I need closure.”

“I met Ellie two years ago in a bar when a friend of mine and I were in Colorado on a ski trip.

My stomach started to sink even deeper at the thought of him being with another woman. I needed to sit down, so I took a seat on the couch.

"We talked for a while and drank, but there wasn't any spark or love at first sight on my end. I was leaving the next morning and she asked me to call her when I got home, but I never did. I wasn’t interested in her. A couple of months later, she showed up on my door step and told me she was pregnant."

The one tiny piece of my heart that was still intact had now been broken and lay with the rest of the shattered pieces inside my soul. I placed my hands on my head.

"Andrew."

He put his hand up. “Let me finish. I knew it was mine because that night we were drinking, and I slept with her. Plus, I made her get a paternity test.”

I could see the pain and agony on his face.

“I didn't love this woman and I didn't want a kid. I didn't know what to do. She told me that she was moving to New York and she was going to make sure I took full responsibility for her and our baby. My father tried to pay her off to leave town, but she wouldn't accept. She didn’t want the money, she only wanted me. It was like she was obsessed or something.”

“Did she get pregnant on purpose?” I asked.

Andrew walked over and sat in the chair across from the couch.

“She would never admit it, but I think she did. She’s crazy, Addison. My father told me that I had no choice but to marry her. The only fucking thing he was worried about was tarnishing the family name.”

“Were you happy?”

Andrew looked at me as I saw shades of anger pass over his face.

“Fuck no, I wasn't happy. I didn't love her, and I certainly didn't want her. It was a mistake. A fucking drunk mistake. I took her to her ultrasound and we found out we were having a girl. It was at that moment it finally sank in that I was going to be a father to this beautiful little girl and that's all that mattered. For the baby’s sake, I tried to get along with Ellie, but all we did was fight and argue all the time. She was nuts. She was eight months pregnant when she started having contractions in the middle of the night. I rushed her to the hospital and they immediately hooked her up to the fetal monitor.”

Andrew put his head down so I wouldn't see the tears that consumed his eyes.

“They couldn't find a heartbeat, so they rushed her in for a C-section, but it was too late. The baby was stillborn.”

I swallowed hard and watched the tears that started to run down his face. I knew this was too painful for him to relive. I knelt down in front of him, placing my hand on his.

“I’m so sorry, Andrew.”

"She was beautiful, Addison," he cried. “The doctors told us that the cord was wrapped around her neck inside the womb and probably had been for about a day. After that, Ellie started drinking and she became addicted to prescription pills. She constantly threatened to kill herself and she was very unstable. My plan was to leave her because there was nothing keeping us together anymore. But I couldn't because she needed help. What kind of man would I be if I just turned away from her in that state?”

I gently squeezed his hand.

“It got so bad that I had to send her to a psychiatric facility/rehab in Colorado. She was there for three months and she seemed to be doing better. I talked to her doctors and they told me she was stable, and they felt she was on the right track, so they released her back into my care. About a month after she was home and the constant fighting, we talked about a divorce and she agreed. I had my lawyers draw up and serve her with divorce papers. But she refused to sign them and started drinking and threatening suicide again. She told me it was my fault she was like this because I never wanted our baby and God took her from us.”

“That's not true. You did want her. I know you did.”

“I loved my daughter very much and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about her. A friend of mine told me that I wasn’t responsible for her behavior and that she's emotionally blackmailing me. One night, I came home from the office and found her on the bedroom floor, unconscious. I called 911 and had her admitted to a psychiatric hospital here in New York where she’s been for the past six months. I even moved out of our apartment. We’re only married by a piece of paper. I don't love her, and I never did. I was forced into that miserable marriage.” He snapped as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Then explain why you didn't tell me this from the start of our relationship?”

“I was scared that if you knew I was married, you wouldn't continue seeing me.”

“That explains why you didn’t want anyone to know we were seeing each other,” I spoke.

“I couldn't risk anyone seeing us together and telling her. Because if she found out about you, any chance of a divorce would be gone, and I would never be free of that bitch.” His jaw tightened.

 “Andrew, if only you had explained that from the beginning, I would have understood.”

Andrew abruptly got up from his chair.

“Would you have, Addison? Think about it. You probably would have run as fast as you could have, and I wasn't about to lose you again.”

I sat there taking in the last part of his words. "Again."

"What do you mean lose me again?" I snapped at him.

He walked away. “I didn't mean that. I don't know what I'm saying.”

Andrew went over to the bar and downed a shot of bourbon.

“Addison, I think you should leave. I'll have Phillip drive you home.”

 I stood there in shock. I wanted to comfort him, but he wanted me to leave. Now the tables were reversed.

“I think I should stay,” I spoke.

“I want you to go,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Fine. If that's what you want, Andrew,” I spoke in anger.

While he drank another shot of bourbon, I walked to the bedroom to gather my things. My stomach was on fire and my heart ached so badly that I wanted to rip it out. I grabbed my bag, and as I began to walk away, something caught the corner of my eye from underneath the bed. It looked like a photograph. I bent down, picked up the picture, and gasped. It was of me when I was a little girl.

My head started spinning as I bent down to see if there was anything else under the bed. I found a small box of photos, all of me at different ages in my life from sixteen years old on. There was even a picture of me, Emma, and Jasper at a restaurant back in Hartford. And a picture of me at my high school and college graduations. I felt sick to my stomach. Who was this man that once made me feel so safe but now scared the hell out of me?

"What's taking you so long?" Andrew said as he stopped dead in the doorway.

He saw me holding the box and the tears that streamed down my face.

“Fuck no. Not now,” he scowled.

I was shaking as he started to walk towards me.

“Don't you come near me.” I fell back. “What the fuck is this, Andrew?” I screamed.

He didn't say a word. It was almost as if he was afraid to speak.

“How the fuck do you know me and where did you get these pictures?”

“I can't explain right now. I'm sorry.”

 “Fuck you. I hate you. You ruined my life just like you did Ellie's.”

I couldn't believe those words escaped my lips. He was taken aback by what I said.

“Just go and hate me forever, Addison. I deserve it.”

“You’re a stalker and a sick, sick man. You will explain to me about the pictures after I call the police.” I pulled my phone from my purse.

The look on his face turned to terror.

“No, Addison! You can't call the police. Please trust me. You have to trust me.”

“Trust you? You’ve been a liar since the day we met. I will never trust you as long as I live,” I screamed as I fell to my knees.

He walked over and tried to pick me up. I pulled away in fear.

“Don't you ever touch me, ever. Do you understand?" I screamed.

He walked over to the dresser, opened the drawer, and pulled out a box. He opened it and handed me a piece of paper with an address on it.

“Take this address and go. If you decide to go there, all your questions will be answered. I’m done with all this,” he said as he walked out the room and out of the apartment, slamming the door. I unfolded the paper and there was an address on it: 200 Clubhouse Drive, Palm Coast, FL 32137.

I left the apartment, shaking uncontrollably, and climbed into the SUV that was waiting outside. Phillip turned to me.

“I'm sorry, Addison, for everything.”

I clutched the box of pictures tightly against my chest.

“It's not your fault, Phillip. I just wish you would have told me to stay away from him.”

 “Would you have even listened?” he spoke.

I walked into my apartment and into the living room, where Emma was finishing up a dress she was making, and Jasper was reading a culinary book. They looked up at me as I stood there shaking like a frightened rabbit clutching the box of pictures that couldn't be explained.

“Addison?” Jasper asked. “What’s wrong?”

Emma stopped what she was doing, went into the kitchen, and grabbed a bottle of wine and three glasses. I couldn't say anything, I just stood there. I was paralyzed. Jasper jumped up from the couch and grabbed hold of me before I fell. Taking me over to the couch, he took the box from my hands and set it on the table. Emma handed me a glass of wine and I gulped it as if it was water.

“You have to tell us what happened, Addy,” Jasper spoke.

“What’s in the box?” Emma asked.

I couldn’t tell them. I didn’t want them to know what a sick bastard Andrew London really was, plus I didn’t want to freak them out.

“Just some things I left at Andrew’s apartment.”

“You went over there?” Jasper asked. “Did you see him?”

“Yeah. I did.”

I told them the story he told me about Ellie and the baby. They were shocked.

“I don’t understand,” Jasper spoke. “Why did you leave him after he explained everything to you?”

“Because he told me to leave. He didn’t want me there anymore. So I grabbed my stuff and left. It’s over for good.”

“Aw, sweetie, I’m so sorry.” Emma hugged me.

“Me too,” I spoke.