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.
