“Good idea.”He beams playfully, popping another dumpling into his mouth.
“I thought you would have had dinner a long time ago,” I say, studying his face, “and that you’d be busy boxing off the calories by now.”
It’s too late to take my words back.Suddenly, knowing he boxes feels like a secret I shouldn’t have.A strangely intimate detail.
He just chuckles, twirling more noodles onto his fork.“I don’t box to burn calories.”
In his quiet admission, the air shifts.It thickens, charged not just with attraction, but with a deeper connection.The invisible thread between us tightens, pulling us closer, connecting us in a way separate from everyone else who just sees the Senior Counselor.
The counter feels smaller.The silence less empty.
“I can see the appeal,” I offer quietly, mindlessly shuffling the noodles with my fork.“Punching away your frustrations.Must feel great.”
“It sure helps,” he confirms with a sympathetic smile.He places a dumpling on my plate and splits it in half with his knife.
I shake my head, an appreciative smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.“You know he didn’t even bother calling to check up on me, not even a quick text.Yet here you are cutting my dumpling for me, so I don’t choke.”
“Purely self-serving believe me,” he teases, but his smile doesn’t reach his solemn eyes.“Wouldn’t know what to do if you choked.”
A short, humorless chuckle, more like a dry cough, escapes me.
“So I take it your fiancé doesn’t mind you working late.”
I point my fork at him, pressing my lips in a thin line.“Can’t call him that anymore.”
Matthew frowns, pointing at my ring finger.“But…”
“Yeah.This goes back tomorrow night,” I declare, holding my hand up.“It’s over.”Speaking the words out loud chokes me up a little, but not as much as before.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, putting his fork down.
“Yeah, well.Just pray he plays nice.”I let my fork fall to the plate with a clatter.“I need a drink.Care for some wine?”I slide off the stool and walk behind the counter to the back room.“I’m pretty sure Mary has one stashed somewhere in here.”
Certain I am out of sight, my hands shoot out, gripping the edge of a shelf on the tall storage unit.I take a deep, shuddering breath, locking my arms straight as I drop my head between them.
“Amy…”
My head shoots up.He speaks my name like a gentle caress.Straightening quickly, my eyes dart around the space.“I know it’s in here somewhere…”
I don’t turn around when I hear him sigh.I just keep hunting for that bottle.
And as luck would have it…
“Here it is!”I wrap my fingers around its neck and turn to face Matthew.
He isn’t buying it.He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe, blocking my exit.
“Sorry, but paper cups will have to do.I don’t have wineglasses—” I step toward him, hoping he will move.He doesn’t.
“What?”I ask, looking up into his unfairly handsome face, now unnervingly close to mine.
“You tell me,” he replies calmly.
It takes every ounce of willpower not to step back and shrink under his penetrating gaze.
“Wisconsin, remember?The golden lady facing forward against all odds.”I try again to pass, but he doesn’t budge.
I take a couple of steps back.
