LOGINMatthew stood in the middle of his office, the silence pressing in again, heavier now that Sophie had gone. Her words still lingered, circling, refusing to settle into anything manageable. Pregnant. The word did not sit quietly. It scraped against everything else in his head, colliding with thoughts he had been trying to keep separate. He exhaled, dragging a hand across his face before reaching for his phone. Isabella. If there was any place he could regain some sense of control, it had to be there. The line rang once. Then clicked. “Hello?” Matthew’s brows drew together instantly. The voice was male. Deep and unfamiliar. For a second, he didn’t speak. Then, slowly, “Who is this?” A pause followed on the other end, the faint sound of movement in the background, something shifting—fabric, maybe, or footsteps across a floor. “Who are you looking for?” the man asked, his tone calm, almost indifferent. Matthew straightened, his grip tightening slightly on the phone. “I asked
Morning came late for Matthew. The curtains had already given up most of their light, the room carrying that soft brightness that belonged to a day already in motion. He blinked against it, one arm shifting across the bed as he dragged himself out of sleep, his body heavy in a way that had nothing to do with rest. For a moment, he didn’t move. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling, the quiet pressing gently against him. Beside him, Ava hadn’t stirred. She lay on her side, facing away from him, her breathing slow and even, her hair falling loosely across the pillow. The space between them still existed, though sometime in the night it had softened—not closed, but less deliberate. Matthew pushed himself up, sitting at the edge of the bed, his hands resting briefly on his thighs as he exhaled. His head throbbed faintly. Not pain exactly, more like pressure. Like too many things had taken up space and refused to leave. He stood and walked to the bathroom, his steps unh
By the time Ava got home, the sky had already begun to dim into evening, the light outside softer, quieter—like the world had decided to lower its voice.She parked slowly, her hands steady on the wheel now, though the ache behind her eyes hadn’t quite left.The house stood the same way it always did.She stepped inside.The television murmured from the living room—news anchors talking in calm, measured tones, the rhythm familiar enough to blend into the background.Matthew sat on the couch, one arm resting along the back, his attention fixed on the screen.He turned at the sound of the door.“Ava.” His voice carried easily across the room.She slipped off her shoes, setting her bag down with care before stepping further in.“You’re back.”She nodded, offering a small, quiet smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.“I am.”Matthew’s gaze lingered on her longer this time.Not the usual glance, something more attentive.His brows drew together slightly as he shifted forward.“What happen
Time did not move the way it usually did. It stretched and folded into itself. Ava stood in the hallway, her back close to the wall, her fingers still wrapped tightly around her phone. She hadn’t realized how hard she was gripping it until the edges began to press into her skin, a dull ache settling into her palm. Inside the room, the quiet had deepened. No more voices, just the faint rustle of movement. Ava’s chest rose slowly, unevenly. The air didn’t seem to settle properly in her lungs. Each breath felt shallow, like something inside her had forgotten how to do it fully. She swallowed. Her throat tightened in response. Then she heard footsteps approaching. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. She pushed herself off the wall, her spine straightening, her face smoothing into something she didn’t recognize but knew she needed. Her hand dropped to her side, her grip loosening just enough. By the time the door opened, she was moving. Just enough to make it look
Morning came in slowly, the light slipping through the curtains in thin, quiet lines that stretched across the bed and settled against Matthew’s face. Ava stirred first. The habit had long settled into her bones—waking before him, easing into the day without noise, without disruption. But this time, something felt… off. He hadn’t moved. She turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on him. His arm lay heavy across the sheet, his breathing steady but deeper than usual, like he had sunk too far into sleep. “Matthew…” Her voice came soft, careful not to startle. No response. She shifted closer, her hand lifting to touch his shoulder, fingers pressing lightly. “Matthew,” she said again, a little firmer this time. He stirred then, a faint groan slipping past his lips as his brows pulled together. “Hm?” Ava watched his face as his eyes blinked open, slow, unfocused at first, then settling on her. “You’re still sleeping,” she said quietly. “Aren’t you going to work?” He exhale
Matthew didn’t move immediately. The word he had shouted still seemed to hang somewhere between him and the silence that followed, echoing faintly in the back of his head. On the other end, Sophie didn’t rush to fill it. When he finally spoke again, his voice had dropped—lower, tighter, like he was forcing each word through something thick. “Spending every weekend with you is not possible.” A faint shift came through the line. Fabric, maybe. Or the sound of her adjusting her position, settling in deeper. “Is that so?” “Yes,” he said, sharper now. “Where exactly am I supposed to tell Ava I’m going every weekend?” Silence stretched. “And fifty thousand dollars every week?” he continued, pacing now, each step measured but restless. “That’s outrageous, Sophie. Where do you expect me to get that kind of money from?” A soft exhale came from her end. Unbothered. “That’s not my business.” Matthew stopped mid-step, his grip tightening around the phone. “What do you mean it’s not
The bedroom smells faintly of his cologne.It lingers in the fabric of the curtains, in the collar of the shirts she hasn’t moved yet. Ava stands in the middle of the room with a pile of folded laundry in her arms, not sure how long she’s been standing there.The house is quiet. Sophie went to bed
Matthew said nothing. But the surprise in his eyes lingered. It wasn’t outrage. It wasn’t anger. It was something quieter. Something unsettled. Like she’d shifted a piece on a board he hadn’t realized they were playing on. Ava didn’t mind. She let him look. Let him wonder. He lowered his gaze t
Monday morning felt quiet. Ava stood in the kitchen in her oversized sweater, staring at the steam rising from her cup of tea like it might rearrange itself into something meaningful. Sophie had left yesterday. Hugged her tight at the airport. Promised she’d visit again soon. “Don’t spiral,” Sop
Ava didn’t answer.She stood there in front of his desk, hands resting lightly against the edge, her nails pressing into the polished wood without her realizing it. Matthew watched her in that steady way of his — not blinking much, not moving much either. He had always known how to wait her out.Wh







