THE END

At the end of the day, we all die sweetheart. Just know you lived a good life.

***

CHAPTER LXXI

*****

MORGAN HAD GONE to school with Max and I had had a panic attack being alone in my room, so Derek convinced me to stay in the basement with him while he worked until she came back.

Derek's work was... different to what I would have assumed. When you took things like mafia boss and basement and put them together, what comes to most peoples minds was blood and dead bodies. But the only blood in his basement was the blood he drew himself.

Derek was a cartel leader during the day and an artist during the night.

It was weird to see.

I knew Derek was a nice guy - maybe too nice for someone of his nature - but it just wasn't something I had expected. Not from him at least.

The basement was filled with different art pieces, ranging from pictures of scenery to pictures of people. Mostly Morgan. Sometimes Max.

Morgan and Derek; two cartel leaders who had merged themselves into one and then formed an odd life together in the suburbs. It was interesting how they could easily keep their work life away from their home life. How they didn't let the cartel run their minds and their souls. How they could still make the most of their time on this world without spending every waking minute thinking about an underground drug ring.

If only Daniel did that.

I shook the thoughts out of my head and turned to Derek who had positioned himself on a wooden stool in front of a canvas and easel.

“These are really nice,” I said, making him look away from the blank canvas and smile at me. “I think you're really talented.”

“Thank you,” he replied humbly before looking back at the blank canvas.

There was silence for a while where I focused on all his beautiful works of art, letting my mind run free as the images depicted in them inspired my imagination.

“Do you want me to draw you?” he asked, making me turn to him with an eyebrow quirked upward. “There comes a time in every artists life where he must draw a pregnant woman to depict life and new beginnings,” he said in a deep, croaky voice to mimick that of, most likely, a wizard.

I laughed and shook my head. “I don't think I want you to see me naked.”

“Who said you have to be naked?” he said, making me turn to him with a laugh escaping my lips.

“Like, almost every Pinterest photoshoot out there.”

“Good thing I'm not a Pinterest photoshoot then,” he said, making me roll my eyes and turn away.

“No, Derek. Don't draw me.”

“Your loss,” he said, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk on his face. He looked at the canvas again before looking back at me. For a moment, that's all he did. Stare at me as I walked around the basement and admired all of his work. He probably made a fortune off them. He probably owned a gallery.

“Do you draw?” he suddenly asked, making me snap my head away from the paintings and look to him instead. “Like do you create stuff?”

“I wouldn't call it drawing,” I snorted, turning away from him to inspect a portrait of Morgan. “More just barely comprehensive sketches.” I then looked to him with a small smile on my face. “I like designing things.”

“Like... Clothes?”

“Mostly,” I shrugged. “But give me a model of anything - a house, a chair, a car - and it won't look the same the next time you see it.”

Hr continued staring at me for a while before going back to his canvas again. The sound of pencil meeting paper filled the silent basement and I found myself walking to stand beside him so I could see what he was doing.

He drew the head onto the model before handing me the pencil and getting up.

“Alright then. Draw something.”

I looked to him with a frown. “Draw what?”

“Your best dress.” I still didn't know what he was talking about, but reluctantly, I sat down onto the stool and faced the easel.

Before I put the pencil to paper, I looked to him again.

“You know, you should be ashamed of yourself for forcing a pregnant lady to sit on something as uncomfortable as this.”

“Just shut up and draw.”

I rolled my eyes before turning back to the model, looking around at my surroundings before looking back at her. I could imagine myself going to an art gallery; an elegant one in a huge building with pristine walls and top-notch pieces. Different elite members would be there, 'oohing' and 'aahing' at the different works and servers would be handing out champagne glasses on a silver platter.

I imagined I was among the rich and elite, not trying to fit in. Just doing so naturally.

I traced the upper bodice before erasing that, not liking it one bit. It was something I would've worn as a child, but now I had grown up. Now I was a mother.

Quickly thinking back to what I would've worn if it was Daniel I was with, the inspiration came to me quickly. My hand traced faster than I thought as I imagined the scenario. Daniel most likely would have picked it out for me to wear, something elegant and sexy.

There was a lot of sketching, a lot of erasing, but soon I let out an exhausted breath and took the pencil off the easel.

The dress was midnight black - exactly what Daniel would like me to wear because I knew he enjoyed parading me around. He liked when people saw me, because he knew men lusted after me and yet I couldn't get him out of my head.

It was shape-fitting, bunching up higher near the center of the model but loosening out and falling lower around the side of her thighs. Around her waist was a big, diamond encrusted silver belt that wrapped around the models waist with a large 'O' shape in the middle. The bodice was simple with a sweetheart neckline and silver straps that went over the models shoulder.

Accompanying the tight dress was a black bag, made out of the same fuzzy fabric of the dress and encrusted with diamonds and black, knee-high boots.

I turned to Derek, surprised to find him holding his phone up. He snapped a quick picture of it before rapidly typing into his phone. Soon, he placed it to his ear and started pacing up and down the room, making me look to him with curiosity.

“Hey, man,” he suddenly said after a minute of silence, making me jump. “Yeah, did you get the dress I sent you? It's good isn't it? I bet it would look nice for your next shoot.”

Silence again.

I watched Derek's lips pull into a frown as he nodded his head along to whatever the guy on the other side of the phone was saying.

“Is that so?”

Is what so?

I so badly wanted to know what exactly was being said. What were they talking about? Why was he frowning? Why did he send a picture of my dress to some random person?

“I'll let her know,” he said before nodding again. “Yeah. If you're going to be in the office tomorrow, I'll have her swing by.”

They exchanged more words before he turned to me with a large smile on his face. He walked up to me and placed his hands on my shoulder, making me look at him with confusion.

“A good friend of mine, Travis, owns a modelling agency,” he began, only deepening my confusion. “I sent him the picture of your dress because he just terminated a contract with his last designer - something about a scandal he didn't want to get involved with,” Derek said, waving his hand nonchalantly as if to dismiss the topic. “As of right now, he isn't interested in this dress.”

I sighed, knowing it was too good to be true. Most designers had to work hsd to get where they were. I couldn't just waltz up right in the middle of it and hope to get somewhere.

But then Derek continued.

“But he has a friend he just so happened to be there with him and she saw your dress. And she liked it.”

“What?” I asked, feeling confused as to where all of this was going. “What are you saying?”

“She wants to meet with you? Maybe draw up something that you could sell to her.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What?” I asked dumbly, feeling incredibly confused with the conversation we were having.

Derek eyes twinkled with happiness and I found it hard to believe that he was this genuinely happy for my own success. “That's not all,” he continued as if what he had done for me wasn't enough. “Travis said that he would like to see you next week. He said he likes your style and he wants to see more of your work. Maybe draw up a contract.”

“No way. You're lying.”

“I'm not!” he exclaimed before taking a step away from me. “You better draw up as many ideas as they come. Even if you think they sound stupid, draw them. Nothing is ever a waste.”

He opened the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet and pulled out a large sketchbook before handing it to me along with an unopened packet of pencils.

“Go sit down on that sofa and start drawing, baby. We're about to get you famous.”

I laughed at the fact that he seemed more excited about this than I did as I walked towards the blue sofa in question, collapsing onto it and opening up the sketchbook.

My mind raced as I began to trace a model, fully looking over the amount of opportunities I had offered to me immediately. Just because I finally decided to work towards something. It was weird.

Maybe I was going to be rejected, but I didn't care because I was finally working on a goal. On an ambition. As I drew, a lost of things that I wanted to do started popping into my mind. Things that I didn't even think I'd ever want to do.

I was finally living again.

***

New York was different. Not because it looked different - although it kind of did - but because it felt different. It wasn't home; not where I was used to. Just knowing that I was at a different geographical location made it such a difficult pill to swallow.

That this was the place that I was going to call home from now on. That if I valued my life I wouldn't even think of stepping foot back in my home town.

It was all too much too soon and I wasn't ready to accept it. To think that your life could just change in the matter of days. How long did I stay in the hospital? How long did it take me to swallow the rat poison? How long did it take for Daniel to realise that he was tired of me?

For once, I found myself wishing that he had never taken notice of me. That I would've just stayed a wishful maid, working my life away in his house so none of this would have happened, but then I realised; I had a lot to thank him for.

Because of him, I realised that my entire life I was stagnant. With no goals, no ambitions. Nothing to live for except for my excessive daydreams about having him in my arms. I found myself again.

Because of him, I experienced love. Real love. Even if it wasn't reciprocated, it was still the most beautiful thing that I had ever felt. It made me feel whole. It made me feel happy. Before, when I thought I had fallen in love with Daniel, I hadn't really.

It was more like an obsession. An addiction. A craving for something I knew I couldn't have. But then I did have him and I learnt how much deeper his character was and I properly fell. I had the urge to fight for him; to do anything for him to make him happy. I cared for him, I worried for him when he came home late.

I loved him.

And he didn't love me, but I was still grateful to him for letting me love him because at the end of the day, it was an experience that I was going to keep.

Because of him, I lived. Even if all went wrong or he tried to kill me, I could never stop thanking him for saving me on that faithful night.

But most importantly, he gave me my baby. Daniel had given me the single reason why I was still alive at that moment. My whole entire world.

And I knew that was going to cause problems. I knew if he ever found out about the little baby growing in me; his heir, he would come after me. And he wouldn't stop until he finally got his hands on my child.

But I didn't care. Despite that, I loved Daniel. I was thankful to Daniel. I couldn't hate Daniel and, in that moment, I decided that I wouldn't try to.

There was just too much energy put into hating people. If the person deserved to be hated, then they didn't deserve my energy. I would let myself love Daniel for as long as it took my heart to heal from him, but I wouldn't hate him.

I would appreciate what we had and who he pretended to be and then I would move on from him. I would be the woman that I was supposed to be a long time ago. I would get a job, I would start designing again, I would strive towards becoming a designer, I would get my high school diploma and I would be the darn best mother that I could be.

And I would do it all without Daniel because I was only then realising that I didn't need him. He had opened the door for me, but now I was free. I was a bird set free and I was going to fly to the highest mountain top all on my own because I didn't need him.

I didn't need anyone else but myself.

I was enough.

I was Araceli and I was more than enough.

***

❝
I don't care if I sing off key.
I find myself in my melodies.
I sing for love, I sing for me.
I shout it out like a bird set free.
❞

THE END

*****

Epilogue will be posted shortly.