22. Rule #22 Hurting her is out of the question.
Matis
Amelia’s lips are twisted into a small knot in the corner of her mouth as she deliberates over the chess pieces on the board.
I can’t keep the smile from my face as I lean back in the black wrought-iron chair and wait for her to make her move.
My mother is sitting next to her, studying the pieces with less focus.
“Make a move, Trouble.”
“I’m thinking,” she snaps. Her icy blue eyes almost seem to shimmer in the sunlight, and although I tease her to finish her turn, in reality, I could sit here all day and just watch her.
Shooting me a narrowed eye expression, she slowly moves her rook to the black space in front of my queen. I chuckle to myself as I replace her player with mine, discarding her piece to the side.
“I wanted you to do that,” she says with her spine straight and her chin jutted out.
I chuckle again. “I know you did.”
As she moves her fingers for her own queen, I wince. Just then, my mother reaches out and gently slaps Amelia’s knuckles. She shakes her head and points at my waiting knight, ready to demolish her strongest player. A move Amelia apparently missed.
“Oh shoot,” Amelia stammers before biting her bottom lip. “I didn’t see that.”
Seeing my mother focus on the game settles a tense ball of nerves in my chest. The game is one of the few things she has left.
The staff here say she’s been growing less and less interested in it, and she’s too far gone to win a game on her own anymore.
Most times we play, it’s for connection and ritual.
She’ll often move pieces without strategy, but every once in a while, like today, she grasps on to a moment of lucidity and plays a real move. One she taught me as a child.
I blink the moisture out of my eyes as I watch Amelia play another pawn, and my mother slowly slips away again.
Amelia glances up at me, noticing the change in my mood. Under the table, her leg touches mine, a show of comfort.
“I brought up my plan to have a fashion show at the club to the team yesterday.”
My head snaps up. “You did? What did they say?”
She smirks as she nods at the board. “It’s your turn.”
“What did they say?” I persist.
As she leans over, resting her chin in her hand, I admire the soft freckles fading on her pale cheeks. “They loved it, of course. To my surprise, Phoenix and Elizabeth seemed the most excited.”
“Why is that a surprise?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Sometimes, I feel like the other women in the company don’t really…respect me. I’m not as smart as Phoenix. I’m not as bold as Elizabeth.”
My brow tightens as I lean forward and take her chin in my hand. “Do not say that. You are just as smart and bold.”
She rolls her eyes and pulls away. “You’re just saying that because I’m your goddaughter and you’ve always thought I was better than everyone.”
That is true. I have always had a soft spot for Amelia.
“I still believe it,” I say with a slight growl to my voice as I deliberate on the game again.
“Well, the good news is that they are on board and they’re going to help me.”
I slide my rook down the line. “So what’s next?”
Her breath comes out in a precious huff. “What’s next is that I get to work. I need to write up a plan and delegate tasks to everyone. I have to actually finish designing the line and then find a production team to help me put it all together.”
She speaks like all this is a burden, but I see the excitement flashing in her eyes.
“What can I do to help?” I ask as I watch her put herself within two moves of a checkmate. She’s defeated my knight, which makes her think she’s won something.
I grin as I move my piece.
“You can help keep me on task. Don’t let me give up or get distracted. Just keep me motivated and remind me why I’m doing this.”
Nodding, I reply, “I can do all that. Whatever you need, Trouble.”
She turns toward my mother, who is still watching the board and paying no attention to our conversation. When my mother’s eyes lift to Amelia’s, she seems to be as enraptured as I am.
“It’s because he’s retired now,” Amelia tells her in a teasing tone as if the two of them are gossiping about me. “He’s bored, so he has to give me stuff to do. You should tell him to just go back to work at the club. Then maybe he’ll stop hounding us so much.”
Amelia looks at me, giving me a flirty wink that sets my heart on fire.
My mom looks at me too. Lifting her finger to point at my face, she glances back at Amelia. “Him?”
“Oui, Matis,” Amelia replies, turning her body toward my mother with a hint of excitement. “You know…Matis.”
My mom looks back at me, studying my features. It’s been a long time since she recognized me on her own. So I hold my breath as she stares into my eyes like I’m a stranger to her.
Amelia wraps her arm around the woman’s shoulder and hugs her gently as if she’s trying to make her feel safe and comfortable.
“Go ahead,” she whispers. “You remember. That’s Matis. That’s your son.”
My throat burns like hell as tears fill my eyes again. This time, I don’t blink them away. Maybe if my mother sees them, it will trigger memories for her. Something. Anything.
When my mother opens her mouth, I don’t expect much.
But then, ever so softly, she smiles.
And whispers my name.
“Matis.”
When I breathe out, a tear slips over my cheek, and a smile stretches across my face. Amelia practically screeches with excitement. Hugging my mother tighter, she beams with elation.
“That’s it! Yes, that’s Matis.”
Almost as if to please the young woman, my mother says my name again. And when our eyes meet and I know for a brief moment that she’s there, it feels like five decades of memories collapsing on my mind and heart at one time.
“Bonjour, Maman.”
In the blink of an eye, I went from a man so solitary I could have drowned in my loneliness to suddenly sitting at a table with the two people I love the most.
And it feels good.
Amelia and I decide to walk back to the club. She strolls beside me, her body safely tucked between me and the buildings. My eyes scan the people around us as we walk, always looking for any sign of danger.
Is this new? This innate need to protect her. This bone-deep urge to keep her safe…and close.
No, it’s not new. But it’s definitely heightened.
“You were very good with her,” I say.
“She’s sweet. She really loves you,” she says, glancing up at my face.
I notice the way Amelia uses such intention when speaking to me. It shows how much she genuinely cares, and I can’t help but think about the red scarf I found hanging behind her door.
Has she really been so in love with me since she was a teenager? It’s a thought that should make me feel better, but it only makes me feel worse.
Because I care about her too, in a far different way than I did before. But neither of us can have what we both so deeply crave.
And what if we did just fuck the rules and built a relationship anyway? What happens when she loses interest or finds someone better? Or my eyes stray as I can only assume they would? I’ve never been monogamous in my life. I can’t assume it will come naturally to me.
Hurting her is out of the question. Breaking her heart would only break mine.
So why can’t I let her go?
“I think we should talk about what happened last night,” I say, sliding my hands in my pockets to assume a casual position.
Amelia stays quiet, but I see her picking at her nails as she walks. To ease her anxiety, I reach over and thread my fingers through hers.
Anyone could see us. This is reckless, but I don’t care. I hate to see her struggling.
“You’re going to say it was all a mistake and that we can’t ever do anything like that again, right?”
“That’s what I should say.”
Her head turns toward me. “So are you?”
When we reach an intersection, we stop and look at each other.
“Amelia…”
“You know,” she says, holding her head up proudly. “My parents have a bigger age gap than we do.”
I bark out a laugh. “As far as I know, he wasn’t your mother’s godfather.”
“What does that word even mean anyway? Godfather?” she asks with a shrug. “That it was your job to take care of me when my parents couldn’t. So isn’t that basically what you’re doing?”
Her cheeks blush with her smile, and I find it so fucking endearing it’s taking everything in me not to scoop her up into my arms and kiss her right here.
When the light changes, we cross and neither of us speaks for a moment. We are at an impasse. It feels as if we are frozen in indecision.
Finally, I realize I have to be the one to draw the line and stick to it. As we pull up to a small park, I tug Amelia off the sidewalk and stand with her under a shady tree.
“Amelia, I’m not the man to get into a relationship with. You know this.”
“I don’t know this,” she argues. “I think you’re perfect.”
“I have never been with one person.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” she volleys.
I wish I could smile down at her, but I know my next words are going to deliver a punch I can’t avoid. “I want you. I do. But…”
“But?” she whispers, lifting onto her toes until our faces are only inches apart.
Fuck me, why must she make this so difficult?
“But…I can’t.”
Her feet slowly lower, and it breaks my heart in two.
“I won’t risk hurting you. I won’t put you in that position because I promise you, Trouble. If we did this…I would break your heart.”
“You could never hurt me,” she whispers, leaning her forehead against my chest.
My fingers slide into her hair, caressing her scalp. “I would, though. Because I care about you and I want you, but…I can’t be in a relationship.”
“You mean you won’t,” she says.
I hate this feeling of disappointing her.
Touching her chin, I lift her face toward me.
“I don’t see any possibility of us, mon trésor.
You are too young. I am too old. There’s no way for us to be together, and if somehow, we were, I couldn’t do that to your father.
He is my closest friend. He’s done so much for me.
What kind of man does it make me if I take his little girl? ”
“I’m not a little girl, Matis.”
My lips find her forehead, and I hate myself for how good it feels to kiss her like this. I want it so fucking bad.
“I know you’re not. But I’m still going to protect you.”
I expect her to be upset, and I expect it to hurt. To my surprise, she pulls away and stands up straight. “Fine.”
My brows shoot upward. “Fine?”
She shrugs, a brave show of fierceness that makes my lips twitch with a smile. “Fine. But you can’t just ignore me now. I still need you.”
Those four words pierce my chest, and I love the way it burns. I hope she always needs me, which is a very selfish thing to want.
“I will always be here for you.”
Gazing into my eyes, she lets out a heavy sigh. I see the disappointment in her reaction, but she tries to remain stoic through it all. “I’d rather have you like this than not at all.”
“You have me, Trouble.”
This makes her smile, and she clings to my arm, resting her head on my shoulder. “Good. Because you have to come help with this project since it’s your fault I’m doing it in the first place.”
With that, she drags me down the street toward the club.
I have myself convinced this is the right choice.
I can refrain from wanting her too much.
I can stop myself from crossing that line again.
I can.
But I really don’t want to.