Thank you so much for your reviews of the first chapter. I hope you enjoy this one too and, if you do, please review this! If you have any suggestions/ requests/predictions, please comment those too as I always love reading them x
Matteo and Addison shot off the bed as they heard a knock on the door, hurriedly throwing their clothes back on. Addison checked her hair in the mirror and smoothed it back into place to keep up the appearance of the wealthy socialite's daughter she was expected to portray. She tucked her shirt back into her jeans and opened the door, smiling graciously at the men carrying boxes of her belongings. Matteo gestured that they should leave the boxes in the kitchen and helped them move the heavier boxes. The open plan apartment came fully furnished, leaving Addison with the job she much preferred of the decorating. She'd spent too much time over the past few weeks curating a collection of vases, throw pillows and ornaments to cheer the place up a bit. It currently reminded her rather unfortunately of her mother, cold and empty. However, she did have an eye for interior design and so within a few hours, Addison's apartment began taking shape. She surveyed it happily, smiling as the sunlight caught in the crystal vase and cast rainbows across the room. The reflections danced along the walls, brightening the otherwise-dull room. Her favorite room, though, was her bedroom.
A desk sat in front of the window which looked out onto Central Park. The park reminded Addison of her favorite parts of home: the nature, the scenery.
The only parts she truly liked.
Next to that she had a small bookshelf which held first editions of her most-loved books, including 'Great Expectations' and 'The Great Gatsby'. On a whim, she had taken a literature class at Yale and fallen in love with the decadence of the novels, instantly falling in love with the characters Gatsby and Estella, relating to them both in ways she could fully articulate. She supposed it was their isolation, but tried not to consider that. She wasn't isolated, Matteo had proven that twice just hours ago.
Candles were scattered about the apartment, primarily vanilla-scented ones. The sweet, simple scent soothed her, reminding her of coffee in the fall and birthday cakes. She loved fall. Everything about the season suited her so much, from the fashion and the food to the color of the leaves on the trees. She couldn't wait to see Central Park once the leaves turned amber and red.
Before long, the moving company left and Matteo followed shortly after, kissing Addison on the cheek, leaving her alone. Sighing, she picked up the phone and ordered Thai from down the street. Her mother had instilled in her that ladies did not cook, they had other people to cook for them, so she had never learnt to do more than make herself a sandwich. She added it to the ever-growing list of things she wanted to do whilst she was free from Bizzy's clutches.
Learn to cook.
Birds flew towards the sunset across the darkening sky, and Addison wondered how it felt to be that free.
…
The food was good, she had to admit, as she sat at the table moving it from one side of the plate to the other. Music was playing faintly on the record player in the background in an attempt to fill the empty silence, though it did little to comfort her. Whether it was nerves or she was getting sick, Addison couldn't bring herself to eat more than a few mouthfuls before she put the rest of it in the bare fridge for another day. Ignoring Bizzy's chastising in the back of her mind again, she insead reached for the rosé and poured herself a large glass. It was a habit she'd picked up during college and, though it wasn't one she was proud of, it was one that had worsened since she'd been home. After just a week, she found herself struggling to cope with the oppression she felt in the Forbes Montgomery household, and good wine was the only way she knew how to numb herself. Montgomeries did not cry, they did not complain, they did not feel sorry for themselves but, most of all, they did not fight. Even when Bizzy had found out that the Captain had not been taking his young daughter for ice cream every Saturday morning, there had been no raised voices. No fights, no shouting, no response. Life had just gone on as usual, though the usual November chill had seemed to penetrate the kitchen more insistently since then.
Addison jolted herself out of her thoughts, closing the fridge door and bringing the full bottle of wine to her sofa, switching the TV on to flick through the channels until she passed out. She could go out, and the thought had occurred to her that night, but she couldn't bring herself to. Maybe if she hadn't slept with Matteo, but she felt as though she'd completed enough self-destructive behavior for one day. She laughed again as she imagined the look on her parents' faces if they found out. She'd let them find out if it was just her it would incriminate, but she didn't want to risk Matteo's job. Besides, if he continued to work for their family, she would be able to continue to see him regularly.
A drama came on the TV and she settled down to watch it, curling under a blanket with her large glass of wine. Dramas had always comforted her because she was able to reason that at least her life wasn't as preposterous as some of these characters'. Even she did not have to contend with psychotic family members who were intent on killing her and her boyfriend (though she supposed the former was debatable). Nobody wanted to see her in jail, she wasn't pregnant at fifteen. No, in comparison to these characters on TV, her life was perfectly ordinary. Ordinary was everything Addison had always wanted, though it was something she never thought she would experience. Her world was too filled with booze and parties and sex and overbearing mothers and adultery and scandals. It had only been weeks since she'd had to accompany her mother on a visit to a women's shelter to put to bed the leaked comments Bizzy had made to a cleaner about domestic abuse being something that a wife ought to put up with.
Scandal and alcohol had become just about the only two constants in her life, both of which comforted her in a strange way she was unable to comprehend.