Chapter 23 Am I Sick?

• When Aiden got into his room, he shut the door firmly behind him, the quiet room wrapping around him like a balm, allowing him to finally let out the breath he’d been holding. He took a moment to gather himself, leaning back against the door.
• "That good-for-nothing son. I pity the woman who thinks her son is the perfect thing anyone could wish for..." he scoffed as he entered the room fully. His eyes landed on a worn box at the top of his wardrobe, slightly ajar.
• For a second, he debated ignoring it. But then, with a sigh, he went to his reading table, dragged the chair over, and reached up to bring it down. When his hands touched it, he hesitated and climbed back down. The box held memories, both good and bad, that he couldn't let go of. He was in a bad mood and didn't want to ruin it any further.