Being angry was easy for Ivy. It came as naturally as breathing, as waking up each morning and going to sleep each night. Anger was a constant companion in her life and had been since her brother had been taken from them. But sadness? Ivy never quite learned how to handle being sad. Being sad was overwhelming to her and whenever she felt the emotion bubbling up inside of her, Ivy sought solitude.
The rooftop of the Ministry was Ivy's favorite place in the world. It was peaceful, but familiar. She could sit up there and study case files, drink after hours, or escape the relentless noise of the Ministry. When she heard the door open behind her, Ivy didn't flinch. There was only one person brave enough to come looking for her now.
Ivy dropped her head to John's shoulder and closed her eyes. "Sometimes I wonder why I bothered coming back," she admitted quietly. Being with Max had been hell. Ivy still carried the emotional scars of his abuse and more than a few physical ones as well. She still flinched when a man touched her, still felt a wave of fear roll over her when they took her clothes off. Ivy didn't know when, or if, that would stop.
But even though being with Max was terrible, at least she hadn't known or hadn't remembered what happiness felt like. Now she knew. She knew how good it felt to be in the arms of someone she loved. She knew how wonderful the touch of your soulmate could be. What was the point of learning all of that if she was going to be robbed of it.