Chapter 28 #2
It feels like the first truly solid thing I’ve touched since my world started tilting.
Like all the scattered pieces of me are being held together. Shielded from the storm raging just outside the circle of his arms. There’s no agenda in his hold. No expectation. Just the unconditional shelter my soul is starving for.
For a few perfect heartbeats, there is nothing but the solid thump of his heart against my ear and the clean scent of his shirt. A stillness so profound it feels like it could last forever. I allow myself to sink into it. To believe, just for a second, that this is real.
Then, reality intrudes.
Helen.
Helen, holding down the fort.
Lou.
Lou, gathering signatures for a cause Matthew has already called hopeless.
The first crack appears in the peace.
The café. James’s deal. The apartment. The packing.
The list scrolls through my mind. Each item a cold splash of water.
“I’m warning you,” I say, pulling back reluctantly. “If we don’t leave now, it’s gonna be very hard for me to want to go back to the real world.”
Matthew lets his hands drop, giving me space. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me.”
“Tell that to Helen and Lou. They’re fighting for my café while I take the day off.” Guilt pricks at me. “Sorry.” I shake my head, waving away my comment.
“You’re allowed to take time to clear your head,” he says, his expression turning serious. “Especially after last night.”
I give a small, weary nod, smoothing down the front of my dress.
Even standing in this fragile peace, reality breathes down my neck. “There’s just no escaping any of it.” I start walking; my body needs the motion.
“No good comes from overwhelming yourself, Amy.” Matthew slides his hands into his pockets and falls into step beside me.
I nod. “It’s hard, but I know you’re right.” I point down the path, squaring my shoulders. “One battle at a time.”
Matthew smiles, his features laced with quiet pride.
“Would you drive me to get my car?”
“You don’t even have to ask.”
I give him a grateful smile. “Can’t go into battle without my chariot.”
A laughs lightly. “Come on then,” he says, gesturing back towards the parking lot. “Let’s go get your chariot.”
Matthew navigates us back through the tree-lined streets. With each passing block, the scenery changes. More houses, fewer towering pines. The fragile bubble of peace begins to thin.
I stare out the window, but my mind replays our hug. The warmth of his lips on my forehead. But unbidden, the list scrolls behind my eyes again.
James and his immoral ultimatum.
Packing up.
Finding somewhere to live.
The café, bleeding signatures onto pages that Matthew has confirmed are powerless against Bancroft.
It’s like emerging from a sunlit clearing only to find the dark, tangled woods waiting.
The peace frays, replaced by the heavy cloak of anxiety.
A coiling tension starts low in my gut, spreading its chill.
Reminded of how fundamentally unsteady my life is, my hand slides restlessly over the fabric of my dress.
Matthew’s hand settles over mine. Warm and firm. Halting the anxious movement. “You don’t have to go back to your apartment if you’re not ready,” he says gently when I bring my eyes to his profile.
I look down at our joined hands. For a heartbeat, I let myself imagine just staying, letting him shield me.
But how long can I hide?
“James is almost never home on Saturdays. I’m pretty sure I’ll have the place to myself.” I sound like I’m reassuring him. But in truth, I’m reassuring myself.
Matthew’s hand returns to the wheel. “And what do you plan on doing about his… deal?” The word seems to taste like ash in his mouth.
My mind recoils.
Plan?
What plan?
My thoughts scatter, leaving only a terrifying blankness.
The choices are brutally simple:
Perform the degrading act James expects. Or defy him and face immediate ruin.
The weight of it makes it hard to breathe. “I…” My voice fails.
I swallow hard, turning my face to the window.
“Don’t do it, Amy.” His tone is strained.
I let out a ragged breath, shaking my head.
“We’ll think of another way,” he insists, glancing at me.
“James didn’t exactly give me much time,” I reply, frustration sharpening my voice. “He wants it to happen this Friday night.”
Matthew lets out a sharp breath through his nose, gripping the wheel until the leather creaks. He turns into Hydra’s lot fast, too fast. He pulls up beside my sedan and jerks to a stop.
Pressing my lips into a tight line, I unbuckle my seatbelt. “Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper as I reach for the door handle.
Matthew’s hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around my wrist.
My pulse hammers in my ears. Being back here, parked next to my car, reality descends fast and hard. Even though he’s halted my exit, I do not look at him.
“Amy—”
His grip tightens. He falls silent, as if the words are stuck in his throat.
“I have a tendency to disappoint the people who care most about me,” I whisper, the words scraping my throat. “When it comes to James, I have no choice but to disappoint you. I’m sorry.” I twist my wrist free, shove the door open, and flee.