Tragedy.
Broken.
Risk.
It’s a bleak territory I don’t have the strength to explore right now.
The silence holds, heavy with everything we aren’t saying.Beside me, Matthew shifts restlessly.He draws a sharp breath, running a hand roughly through his hair, then scrubbing it down his face.
“Anyway,” he says, his tone deliberately lighter.“You have enough to worry about without having to worry about my views on love.”
I let out a sharp breath, my brows arching in exasperation.
Matthew crushes the empty paper bag into a ball.“How about a walk?”He stands, ready to move on.
I nod and join him.
We fall into step, walking deeper into Picnic Point.The path narrows, winding closer to the water.Lake Mendota laps against the shore to our right, sunlight shattering on its surface.To our left, the woods are thick and quiet.We walk in comfortable silence, enjoying the crunch of our footsteps and the whisper of the breeze.
Something tight loosens in my chest.
Out here, my bleak thoughts don’t feel quite so suffocating.Peace settles a little deeper.
A thick, gnarled root snakes across the dirt path in front of me.“I’m wearing the wrong shoes for this,” I murmur, stopping short of this obstacle.
I glance up.Matthew is watching me, a glint in his eyes.“That’s on me.Sorry.”He extends his hand, palm up.
I slip my hand into his.His fingers close around mine, firm.He doesn’t pull, just offers balance.Holding onto his strength, I carefully step over the root, my heel sinking slightly into the soft earth before finding solid ground.His hold lingers for a beat after I’m steady, a warm pressure against my palm.When he releases me, the ghost of his touch remains.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” I say, watching our feet step in sync.“And keeping me away from the café.”
“You really needed it.”
“I really did,” I whisper.“I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water.”The admission burns, but it’s the truth.
Matthew wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me to his side, slowing his pace to match mine.His warmth is immediately grounding.Hesitantly at first, then with a weary sigh, I lean into his support.
Suddenly, a blur of brown fur darts out from the undergrowth.It shoots across the path inches from my boots before disappearing into the bushes.
My heart leaps.A startled gasp escapes me.I jump, stumbling, clutching the front of Matthew’s shirt while my other arm tightens around his waist.
“Whoa!”Matthew tightens his hold, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.“It was just a chipmunk.”
I let out a shaky laugh, relief mixing with embarrassment.My hand loosens its death grip on his shirt to cover my face.
Matthew’s laughter subsides.His body goes still.His arm tightens, sensing the tremor still running through me.
“Hey.Do me a favor.”
I look up hesitantly.
“Take in the deepest breath you can,” he instructs gently, eyes holding mine.“And let it out real slow.”He waits a beat.“Just focus on the fresh air.Forget everything else for a second.”
Forget everything else?
If only it were that easy.
I draw in a breath, but it catches high in my chest, doing nothing to ease the frantic energy still humming beneath my skin.I let it out in a defeated rush.
