Page 143 of Matteo

“What happened in Chicago?” Matteo's voice is oddly calm, and in direct proportion to the way my insides are heaving. I step forward, cutting between them.

“It was ... just a ... conference.”

“You're not still—” Takumi pauses, his gaze slipping from me to Matteo and back to me again. Now he gets it. We stopped talking years ago, and he assumes I’m probably still working as a hacker.

“I work in cybersecurity now,” I reply.

Takumi cocks his head. “Good move. I’m doing some tech consulting, dabbling in crypto on the side.”

My brain fogs over and I'm in full-blown panic mode as I try to figure out who else might be at the wedding. I should have asked Vlad.

“Are you going to introduce us, babe?” Matteo shoves his hands in the back of his jean pockets, looking at me expectantly.

“Right, sorry. This is Takumi. Takumi, this is Matteo.”

They greet one another amicably, and then Matteo says, “Let me guess, you're part of the online forum, too? Working for Vlad?” he asks Takumi.

“Ye-eess,” Takumi says slowly, looking at me like he finally notices my reticence.

“Did you go to the dinner Vlad hosted last night?” I ask, anxious to change the subject.

“Couldn’t. I landed late at night but I'll be at the barbecue later. You going?”

“We are.” I manage a smile even though my heart sinks slowly inside my chest. I’m now dreading the next few days because so much could go wrong.

***

MATTEO

We return to the hotel after the run-in with her friend. Every moment feels surreal. It's almost as if the odds are stacked against us. It's been like one crazy rollercoaster ride. A moment of bliss followed by moments of madness.

As if Vlad didn't raise enough questions for me, running into Elizabeth's friend just now has me feeling like I don’t know this woman. The atmosphere when we return to the suite has changed again. It feels almost claustrophobic, and the views from the floor-to-ceiling windows offer no respite.

I’m not sure how I feel about attending this cliffside barbecue later.

Elizabeth is anxious. I hate that. I hate it when she’s uneasy. How we were before that encounter was how I wish things could be. But I’m starting to feel like she’s burdened by a tangled web of secrecy, and every so often, a frayed thread manages to get away, reminding me of how little I really know about her.

It makes me think about Mama, and how she must have felt looking back on her life with the old man when he was the center of her world. Before our family unit was eviscerated the moment his dirty secret exploded. We’re living with the shrapnel of that event even now, years later. I wonder if she looked back on everything and saw it through a different lens, once the truth crashed into her life.

I feel caught between bliss and uncertainty. Elizabeth is a riddle I’m still trying to decipher. Things have changed between us, from who I thought she was when we first met, to now, a woman I can see myself being with … maybe … for a long time.

Maybe—forever?

I don’t know. Forever sounds too heavy, too permanent, too deep. I’m not sure I’m ready for it, and also, now there are secrets and unexplained comments; things she prefers not to talk about, but which I learn from others. Will I also look back on this time with her through a different lens one day? See the problems that were there?

“Your eyes,” she says, kneeling on the floor, between my legs, staring up at me. A tentative smile plays on her lips.

“Hmmm?” I break away from my reverie, sitting on the couch, deep in thought.

“I can never tell what color they are. Sometimes they look brown, and sometimes they look dark green. Like a chameleon.”

Her hands rest on my thighs, and she looks submissive, like she wants to make me happy. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at me in silence.

Are you a chameleon? I wonder. When I don’t answer, she gets up and announces that she's going to have a shower.

“What conference?” I ask, following her into the bathroom. She strips off, but doesn’t turn around. I gaze at her completely naked before me and my cock jumps up, like an excited puppy, eager for what comes next.

She frowns at me, before tying her hair up into a bun. “Does it matter? It was so long ago, I can’t remember.”