Again, that word.So full of gentle possession in his raspy voice.It makes my breath hitch in response.
Still moving in a dazed, dreamlike state, I shift from the edge of the lounger to settle into the space he’s created.I turn sideways, drawing my legs up to drape them over his right thigh.The back of his left knee becomes a perfect brace against my lower back, allowing me to sink into the secure cradle he’s formed, my side nestled against the solid warmth of his bare chest.
He reaches for the throw, shakes it out with one hand before draping it over us, cocooning us in shared warmth.My head finds its natural resting place in the curve of his shoulder, and I let out a long sigh, sinking completely into him.
I feel safe.
Protected.
For this one moment, in the silver-blue stillness of his backyard, the world and its relentless demands can’t touch us.
We sit in a comfortable, profound silence for a long time.The only sound is the gentle sigh of the breeze through the leaves of the trees at the far end of the yard.Matthew’s chin rests lightly on the top of my head, his arms a warm, secure cage around me.I can feel the steady, slow beat of his heart.A rhythm that lulls my pulse into a state of quiet grace.
I shift just enough to tilt my head back.I study his face.The firm line of his jaw and the way the faint moonlight catches the curve of his lips.He’s looking out at the pool, his expression thoughtful, almost distant.
“Matt?”My voice is barely a whisper, tentative.“About that morning…” My heart starts to thump a little harder.“In your kitchen…”
His eyes find mine.I see a flicker of understanding, and the shadow of the same pain I feel.
He inhales a sharp breath, his lips parting to speak.At the exact same moment, the words tumble from me in a rush of urgent need.“I’m so sorry—” I say, just as he murmurs, “I am so—”
We both stop.A beat of startled silence.Then a soft, choked chuckle escapes him, and a wobbly smile touches my own lips.
His arms tighten around me, pulling me back against him.“Before you say anything… I am so, so sorry.I was out of line.”
I feel the shudder that runs through his powerful frame, a sudden tension that wasn’t there moments before.He shifts, his hand coming up from my waist to gently cup my cheek.His thumb tilts my chin, the pressure insistent until my gaze, still swimming with unshed tears, lifts to meet his.His expression is earnest, filled with a profound regret that mirrors the ache still lingering in my chest.
“The fear I saw in your eyes because of how I reacted… it gutted me.”The confession makes his voice gravelly.
“I shouldn’t have said what I said,” I counter softly.“I wanted to hurt you back.”
“God.”He shakes his head, his eyes haunted.“I never meant to hurt you like that.”He swallows, and I see the muscle in his jaw work, as if his words are hard-fought.“I was processing so much, too much, that morning.”
His thumb strokes reverently across my cheekbone.His gaze is so intense it seems to see straight into my soul.And in those unguarded depths, I see him laying his own soul bare in return.
“What we shared that night,” he begins, the words themselves a caress.“It was…” He trails off, shaking his head slightly, as if no single word is adequate.
He takes a shaky breath, his eyes filled with a vulnerability I’ve never seen before.“It meant everything to me, Amy.”
Everything.
The single word isn’t just a word; it’s a key turning a lock deep inside me I didn’t even know had rusted shut.It’s a profound rightness that settles in my marrow.The last shadows of doubt disintegrate under the gentle weight of his truth.
A promise.
His vulnerability is a warmth that spreads through my veins.A startling, life-giving heat.But that warmth immediately collides with the cold poison of my own cruel words.Of that careless, wounding comparison I flung at him in the café.
And the two ignite.
The warmth becomes a burn of a different kind.
An agonizing fire of shame.
I look at this man who faced down my ex-fiancé, who offered to shoulder my crushing burdens, who just tore open his own scarred soul for me…
My vision blurs, the image of his earnest face swimming behind a hot, sudden film.A sob breaks from my chest.A ragged sound of my heart cracking open with both gratitude and unbearable regret.The tears are a flood, breaking free, scalding a path down my face.
Matthew’s hands are instantly on my cheeks, his thumbs gently wiping at my soaked skin.“Don’t cry,” he whispers, his voice a low caress laced with an aching concern that only makes my heart constrict further.
