20. Esmé
20
ESMé
T he gravel crunched under my feet as I used my breath to slow my heartbeat. I couldn't figure out what caused it to race so hard. Was it the thought of getting high in the trees or Matteo’s hands working on the straps at my thighs only moments ago?
If it was fear, the way he looked up at me—his dark eyes alive—only added to the jittery energy in my belly.
We passed through the dappled light of the forest in silence. He was a step or two behind me. Even with the distance, I was aware of his body moving through the air. Of every sound his boots made on the path. Of every breath he took.
“Es, wait,” he said, his voice low. “Are you feeling okay?”
I pulled up physically and mentally at his use of my nickname. Only Luc and Iris called me ‘Es.’ But before I could reply and tell him that even a plate of diamond encrusted pasta couldn’t make up for the ordeal he was about to put me through, we came to a stack of logs in a clearing. Someone had nailed them together like a giant’s dinner table.
Before I could pass judgement—or ask what was on the menu—I moved to the ladder suspended from the tree overhead. The wooden platform was level with the top of my head, and I loosened my shoulders.
When Matteo had talked about the course, he made it sound like we’d be swinging around in the treetops. Like Tarzan and Jane. This first level was only a little higher than your average A-frame ladder. No higher than when I hung paintings at the gallery.
Admittedly, I usually sent Maurice up where possible. But I liked to think I could stomach a tiny amount of risk.
Matteo drew level with my shoulder. He folded his arms across his chest and raised one of his dark eyebrows in my direction. "You know this is the kids’ course, right?"
I scoffed. “No, it’s not.” I pointed to the placard nailed into the logs. "It’s called an introductory course.”
He chuckled. "Introductory for eight-year-olds.” He brushed some dirt from the sign, revealing a height guide. He was right. To be allowed on this course, you couldn’t be taller than an Oompa Loompa. “But if this is all you can handle,” he said, “I’ll hold your lollipop while you go."
His eyes glinted in the light, and he bit at the corner of his lip, fighting a smile.
I tightened my eyes. He was teasing me again. "I don’t appreciate the mockery. Do you want me to back out? I’m quite happy to drive back to Paris. I have paperwork to do."
"Nope," he said, losing the battle with his grin. "But I was hoping for a bit more … adventure."
I opened my mouth, about to tell him where I’d prefer to shove my lollipop, when two women came down the path. As they passed, one giggled quietly while the other nudged her in the ribs. They both stared at Matteo for longer than socially healthy.
“Do you know them?” I asked, watching their progress down the path into the forest .
“No.”
I pressed my lips together. “Well, they certainly look like they know you.”
He shrugged, playing with the rope attached to the ladder. “Maybe I have one of those faces that looks familiar.”
I clamped my jaw tight. I’d describe his face as less familiar, more devastatingly handsome; but I didn’t think he needed the ego boost. The women put some distance between us. But when they glanced back, giggling this time, my gut gave a subtle twist.
I looked down. Was my fly undone? Was Matteo’s? One quick check reassured me that no wardrobe malfunctions were currently taking place. Maybe the women thought he was somebody famous? His face was chiselled enough to rival any A-list movie star. But the longer they stared, the more my skin prickled.
Come to think of it, the instructor who greeted us had gawked at Matteo like he was the second coming.
“Come on, slowcoach,” he said, placing a palm at the small of my back, moving me towards a sign announcing the start of the proper course.
Any memory of the giggly women or the instructor vapourised with Matteo’s touch and the sight of a much longer, much scarier ladder looming in the distance.
We’d reached the real first platform. It was significantly higher than the kid’s one. I stood frozen at the base, feeling like Jack when he found the beanstalk.
With trembling fingers, I clutched the first rung so tightly my knuckles turned white. I stared at the platform above, my breath shallow and quick, my vision swimming.
Although anchored to the ground, when I touched the rope of the ladder it wobbled and twisted under the slightest pressure.
I sucked in air, this morning’s breakfast hovering dangerously near my larynx. “I can’t do it,” I said, my voice wavering. “It’s too high. I’m too scared.”
Matteo stepped closer; his expression softer than I’d ever seen. “Hey, look at me,” he whispered.
I darted a glance in his direction, and he gave me a small, reassuring smile.
“You don’t have to rush. One step at a time, Esmé. That’s all it takes.”
I shook my head. “What if I can’t even take the first step?” My voice cracked as it left my mouth and I stepped back, straight into Matteo’s chest.
The minute I made impact, his gloved hands were at the top of my arms applying light pressure, sending me warmth. His breath grazed at my ear. “I get it,” he said, as if my fear made perfect sense. “Let’s just stand here for a second. No pressure, no hurry.”
His voice was low and steady, grounding me. “I know you’ll be able to climb, but do me a favour. Don’t look up and don’t look down. Just focus on the ladder in front of you. Can you do that for me?”
After three quick heartbeats, I nodded, my gaze dropping to the first rung.
"Good," he said, stepping around to face me, his hands grazing the rope just beside mine. “Now, tell me this—why’d you say yes to coming here?”
I let out a shaky laugh. “Because you asked. Because you saved me with the great pasta disaster and now I owe you a favour.”
“Exactly.” His lips bowed. “And although we’ve only just met, I know you a little more than you think, Es. You’re stubborn. Just like with the pasta, you’ll only admit you need help in an emergency. You're busy running the show. Being calm and in control all the time. And doing this—facing your biggest fear—it’s scary. But you’re braver than you think. And I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t know you could do this.”
His words made my bottom lip wobble. “What if I fall?”
“You won’t.” His tone was firm but kind. “But even if you did, I’m right here. I’d catch you. I promise.”
A chilly breeze whistled through the trees and my breath hitched. After a moment of hesitation, I raised my foot to the first rung and climbed.
Matteo reached out and took the ropes at the edge of the ladder, to steady it. “There you go,” he said. “Just like that. Now, let’s try one more.”
I glanced at him, focusing on the softness in his eyes. “Okay,” I murmured.
“Okay,” Matteo echoed, bracing to hold the ladder still.
I made my ascent slowly. With each step, his words kept me grounded. Every time the ladder swung, and I clung to the rope for dear life, he repeated his advice.
“Eyes on the ladder, nothing else.”
Every time I took another step, he offered encouragement. “You’re doing so well. Keep going. I’ve got you.”
Through the smokescreen of my fear, his words reached me. “He had me.”
I swallowed. What would that even look like?
By the time I reached the platform, my breath came in ragged gasps. But I couldn’t suppress my triumphant grin, or the swell of warmth in my chest. I made it.
The ladder wobbled under me, and I grabbed for the solid bar of wood acting as a railing on the platform. With shaky legs, I stepped across, finding stability.
“I’m coming up.” Matteo’s voice reached my ears, and my heart skipped a little as he hurried up the ladder to join me on the platform. My hugging the nearest tree trunk for dear life didn’t stop him from wrapping an arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my helmet like a proud parent .
“See? You made it,” he whispered against my ear.
“I couldn’t have done it without you.” It was true. His words and his faith had driven me to climb.
“Sure, you could’ve,” Matteo replied, his hand lingering on my shoulder. “You just needed someone to remind you what you’re capable of. How amazing you are.”
I swallowed the shaky breath threatening to unleash at his words.
“But that climb was only the first challenge.”
I scowled. “What do you mean?” Was there another level? Another ladder?
He smiled, stepping away towards the edge of the platform. Taking one of the carabiners attached to his harness, he clipped onto a thick metal cord. “Come here,” he beckoned.
Was he kidding? Joining him meant releasing the tree. It was the only thing around us solidly anchored to the ground. I gripped the bark harder.
Matteo waited for what felt like an eon before speaking. “If you don’t let go of the tree and join me, I don’t know how long you’ll survive.”
My heart skipped. “Sorry?”
“The park closes at sundown. When it does, I won’t be able to bring you food or drink for at least twelve hours, and I’m not sure your shorts will keep you warm overnight.”
I aimed a dagger-sharp stare over my shoulder, but the faint curve of his lips softened my response to an eye roll.
“I can’t come to you because I’m clipped in,” he said.
Moving an errant strand of hair from my eyes, I recalled the information from the safety briefing. The key points came back like a beacon in the dark. Once we were clipped to the wire, we couldn’t fall off. Even with our pulleys attached, the wire was a lifeline—a constant connection to the course that couldn’t be broken.
As long as I stayed attached, I wouldn’t die. Simple .
I nodded, reaching for Matteo. He guided me into his body with his outstretched hand. The second our fingers met, his curled around my gloves like bindweed.
After helping me attach to the safety wire, he turned me round, bringing his mouth to my ear. We were close to a sheer drop, and I struggled to keep my eyes off the void.
“When you reach the other side, you’ll see another platform, just like this. Plant your feet securely and anchor yourself onto something.”
I stared at him, blinking rapidly.
“Hold on to something. Move away from the platform’s edge and I’ll follow you over. Ready?”
I swallowed. Was I ready? Not even remotely. Right now, as I looked over the edge to the distant ground, my legs resembled jelly. But I couldn’t deny the hint of safety I felt as I stood tucked against him.
I dared another peep over the side, and my head spun. The forest floor seemed miles away and when a stiff breeze barrelled into us, my breath thinned. Matteo held me tight against him until the wind settled.
“You’ll be fine,” he whispered.
“I wish I shared your optimism,” I hissed. Right now, I was smack bang in the middle of the mother of all fight-or-flight battles; and flight was well and truly winning.
“Just keep looking forward,” he said, pointing to the wire that disappeared into the treetops ahead. My heart thumped a rhythm in my chest. “I can’t do it," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the wind.
"Come on. You’ve got this," Matteo said, his voice steady. "I’ll be right here. Trust me."
"Trust you? You’re the one who dragged me up here!"
"And I’ll get you back down. I promise. But first, it might be a good idea if I hook you to the zip wire."
Matteo reached down and untethered the pulley attached to my harness. Pushing me gently from behind, he nudged me to the lip of the platform and took my hand, closing it around the pulley. With little effort, he hooked it onto the wire, moving it back and forth, showing me how easily it shifted.
“Keep your fingers away from the top,” he instructed. “Hold the base of the pulley, step out, and just let go.”
My gut lurched. What did he mean “just let go?” I ran my eyes over the shiny metal. Would it even hold my weight? It didn’t look very substantial. But Matteo didn’t let up with the pressure at my back. His breath was annoyingly calm and settled—like we were deciding what to order for lunch, not throwing ourselves to the forest floor.
“And you’re sure this is safe?” I asked, stalling for time.
"You’re overthinking it," he said, his voice warm and teasing at my neck.
"I don’t overthink," I shot back, lips tight. "I prepare."
"Then you’re fully prepared to step off the side,” he replied, moving even closer, his presence solid and steady at my back.
“But …”
"You’re safe," Matteo murmured. "Just lean forward, and jump. Trust the harness and enjoy the ride."
I turned my head to look at him, and his expression took my breath away. His eyes were bright, alive, vital. He wore the most irritating smile—all calmness and peace—and damn if I didn’t melt a little at the sight.
Fine. If he wanted me to hurl myself off the platform in the name of pasta pay-back, so be it. I could be spontaneous. Daring.
I shut my eyes tight and counted to three in my head. Finally, after taking a huge gulp of air, I stepped into nothingness.
The drop was sudden, and I screamed louder than a parent stepping on Lego. The harness didn’t break, and relief instantly mixed with a motherload of adrenaline. Blood sung in my ears. Against the soundtrack of wailing metal-on-metal, another feeling replaced the terror.
A fizzing filled my belly and reluctantly I peeled my eyes open. The world rushed past in a blur of green trees and sky. By the time I reached the other end, my cheeks ached from the biggest grin in recorded history.
I hit the landing platform feet-first, with a thump, and my knees wobbled like a newborn giraffe. I reached out with my hands, finding salvation in the rough bark of the tree trunk. The harness jerked slightly, securing me in place, but I refused to let go of the wood. Not even when Matteo’s boots thudded onto the platform behind me. The sound of his laughter trailed somewhere after him.
I dared to look round. He wore a grin—wide and triumphant.
"See? You’re alive," he said, offering his hand to help me unclip. "Was that so bad?"
I wobbled slightly, ignoring his outstretched hand, shooting him a mock glare. "You’re insufferable."
"And you’re incredible," he countered, his voice soft. His eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun. At Matteo’s unexpected tenderness, my cheeks flushed with heat. But I allowed myself a little smile.
Maybe I was incredible. Hadn’t I met my fear head on? I’d trusted and “let go” as he’d suggested. I hadn’t been in control. And for the first time in a long time, I really hadn’t minded.
“Do you want to go again? Or bail?” he asked, eyes roaming my face.
I looked down at the ground, pulling in the scent of the fresh air.Short of climbing down the tree, I wasn’t sure how we’d leave. “Let’s go again.”