“Nope,” I interrupt, making a show of rising from the chair.
“Okay, okay!”She grabs my arm, pulling me back down.“But you can’t leave me in suspense here.”
I take a slow breath and look up at her.“He’s…” I search for the right word, shrugging helplessly.“He’s something else, Helen.What we shared was so much more than physical.”A soft sigh escapes me, full of a deep, quiet contentment that feels sacred.
The playful glint in Helen’s eyes melts, her smirk softening into a smile full of deep, knowing warmth.“That’s wonderful,mija,” she says, her voice a reverent murmur.“You deserve that.”She places her hand over mine, giving it a squeeze.
“Things feel… different with him,” I confess.
“This man happened at the right time for you, Ames.”
I nod, a lump forming in my throat.“But I won’t be rushing into anything this time around,” I say.A solemn promise to myself as much as to her.
Her smile widens with pride and understanding.“Good.You take your time.Be smart.”She hops off the desk, her energy returning as she pats my shoulder.“And right now, the smart thing is not to leave your man waiting any longer.”She grabs my hands, pulling me up.“Go find him.Grace and I have things covered.”
A real, unburdened laugh escapes me.“You’re the best, Helen.”I give her a grateful smile before leaving the room, my steps feeling lighter.
My earlier self-consciousness completely forgotten, I scan the bustling café, searching the familiar landscape of tables for Matthew.
“Hey, Grace, have you seen the guy who came with me?”
Grace looks up.“Oh yeah, he grabbed the coffees and headed that way.”She gestures to the end of the counter.“He’s probably waiting in your office.”
My office.
The air leaves my lungs in a silent whoosh.My heart, which had been beating with a light, happy rhythm, begins to hammer, a frantic, panicked drum.
“Amy, you okay?”Grace’s voice sounds distant, muffled by the roaring in my ears.
I can only manage a jerky nod, my feet already moving.I rush down the short hallway, my heels clicking a desperate rhythm.
I freeze.
My blood runs cold at the sight of my office door.
Wide open.
Every fear of him seeing my messy reality solidifies into a sickening certainty.
With soul-crushing dread, I step into the ruins of my own carefully guarded secret.
My heart plummets into the icy depths of my stomach when my eyes land on a grim Matthew, sitting in my chair, behind my desk.His elbows are planted on the worn oak surface, his long fingers steepled in front of his mouth.
He’s looking right at me.His gaze intense, holding a chilling stillness.
“Matt—”
“How long have you been living like this?”His voice cuts through my attempt to speak, sharp and incisive.
Shame, hot and potent, floods my cheeks.“I’ve been meaning to—”
“How long, Amy?”he interrupts again.His voice drops even lower, gaining a hard edge of insistence.
He doesn’t move, his eyes pinning me where I stand.
I throw my purse onto my open suitcase, kick off my heels, and collapse onto the couch.“I don’t need your pity.”
Matthew plants his palms flat on the desk, dropping his head back in exasperation.“Please tell me we’re not back to you shutting me out.”
