I catch my reflection.My face is pale, eyes red-rimmed and haunted.But my gaze is drawn to Matthew beside me.His head is bent close to mine, brow furrowed in concentration as he focuses on my hands, the water cascading over our joined fingers.
The sight of us framed in the mirror, so close, so connected, ignites a strange heat in my chest.I lower my eyes, overwhelmed by the intimacy.
Of us.
Of him.
Of this impossible situation.
“He wants me to cheat on him in front of everyone,” I choke out the confession.
Matthew’s hands tighten.“What?”he says, his voice strained, barely above a whisper.
He shakes his head, as if he misheard.
I lift my gaze, meeting his eyes, bracing myself for his judgment.“James wants me to make it look like I’m the one who broke his heart.”A bitter, humorless laugh escapes me.I bite my lip to hold back a scream.
He stares at me for a long moment.The only sound is the gentle rush of water.His eyes search mine, probing the depth of my pain.Finally, he reaches out and turns off the faucet.The sudden silence makes the tension suffocating.
I hold my breath, gaze fixed on his face.
He doesn’t release my hands.Instead, he holds them tighter.Without looking away, he lifts them and presses a kiss to my bruised knuckles.His lips are warm against my chilled skin.
Warmth spreads through my veins.
“Fuck him,” he says.His gaze flickers to my lips, then returns to my eyes.“He’s not worth this pain.Not worth any of it.”
He reaches for a towel from the rack.After shaking it out, he wraps it around my hands, still holding my gaze.His fingers linger on mine as he dries them.
I’m dazed.“Yes… but what choice do I have?”
“Of course you have a choice,” he says, steel in his tone.
“Please.”I scoff.“I don’t exactly have the upper hand here, Matt.”I yank my hands free and walk back into the main area of the basement.
“You’re not actually considering going through with it?!”He follows me out, his question sharp, almost an accusation.
“Considering?!”I retort, turning to face him, hands clenched into fists.“He’s left me no choice.It’s the only option if I want to keep my café!”
He turns away, shaking his head in disbelief and running a hand through his hair.“Fucking café!”
His words, so dismissive, cut through me.“Yeah, well, thatfucking caféis my livelihood,” I defend.“And it’s bad enough I have Bancroft trying to get rid of me.If I can get James and his loan off my back—”
“Amy, Amy,” Matthew interrupts, his voice quiet but insistent.
“No Matt!What don’t you get?If I can get James to stop threatening me with that loan, I might have a fighting chance.”My voice rises with desperate hope.
“No.”He shakes his head.His simple denial making my blood boil.
“Yes!”I insist.“We’ve been working so hard to stop Bancroft with the petition.I won’t let James ruin all that.”
“That’s just it,” he says hesitantly, the words heavy with regret.“It’s not looking promising with Harold.I told him about the petition.Made it sound like a huge deal.But couldn’t get him to care enough to change his mind.”
His confession hits like a physical blow.
My legs wobble, threatening to give way.
“Fuck…” He runs his fingers through his hair, eyes squeezed shut.
