“Just rest,” he says softly.
He turns to walk away, but my hand instinctively reaches for his arm, my fingers curling around his wrist in a silent plea.
He looks down at my hand, then back at me.Without hesitation, he lowers himself to the floor in front of the couch, bringing our eyes level.
I release a shaky breath as he gently smoothes a stray strand of hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear.I lean into the warmth of his touch.
“Thank you,” I say in a trembling whisper.
A soft smile touches his lips, his hand lingering near my cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.“You’re gonna be okay.”
“I don’t understand…” Confusion rises, the initial shock wearing off.“Why?Why would he…”
Matthew sighs, raking a hand through his hair.
“The man I fell in love with is gone.He’s been gone for a while.I just refused to see it,” I admit, my voice cracking.
“Don’t blame yourself,” Matthew says firmly.“None of this is your fault.”
“But you were right.I was trying to protect what little good is left, thinking if I did that long enough, things would go back to how they were.”
Matthew shakes his head, turning his attention to his hands.“About that,” he starts, hesitating.“I owe you an apology, Amy.”
I look up at him, wary.“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” he counters.“What I should have said was… I should have said that I understand.More than anyone.”He pauses, a flicker of empathy in his green eyes.“I understand the endless ache inside your heart.The nights you lie awake.The brave face you put on for the world.”His voice drops to a near whisper, his gaze intense.
“But still, I’m fading away in his shadow like you said,” I whisper, choking back a sob.
“You’re fighting your way out,” he murmurs.“It was wrong of me to throw my accusations at you the way I did.Look at you.You wake up every morning with a broken heart, yet you hold your head up and face the world.That takes incredible strength and courage, Amy.”
His words find a crack in my defenses.A sob escapes my lips.
Courage?
Strength?
If only he knew how terrified I am.
He gently cups the side of my face, his thumb grazing the curve of my jawline.
A hush falls over the room.The only sound is our breathing.His gaze burns into me before dropping to my lips.A blush creeps up my neck as he leans closer.I hold his gaze, my breath caught in my throat.Slowly, he closes the distance between us—then flinches back, eyes wide.
A wave of disappointment washes over me, but I bury it quickly under the confusion.
“I…” He breaks off, clearing his throat.“Sorry.I shouldn’t have done that.”He averts his gaze, running a hand nervously through his hair.
I reach out and touch his arm.He looks back at me, his deep greens dark and turbulent.
He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, jaw clenching.
His gaze darts from my lips to my eyes.He seems to be wrestling with himself, his hands balling into fists.
What’s holding him back?
Then, as if shaking off the tension, he pushes himself up from the floor.“I’ll go get us some coffee,” he says, his voice carefully composed.
A few minutes later, Matthew reappears, balancing a tray with two steaming mugs and a plate of croissants.
