20! Just A Second!

ZARA

Last night has been replaying in my head all day. I tried to stay focused in the office but Hazel's question, and me almost spilling the beans kept on ravaging my mind.

I have tried numerous ways to push back the thoughts but nothing seems to work. I have to be focused today, I need to be focused today. 

I'm presenting the first part of my new policy to the shareholders today, and I need to nail it. 

My eyes drifted to my empty desk. I don't even have a picture of Hazel on it. I can expose her for Monica, and her father to use as bait for me.

My phone's ringtone brought me back to reality. I checked on who the caller was, but it was an unregistered number. 

But something about it looked familiar. In a second I went through my purse looking for the card Maria had given to me last night. 

I got it out, and checked both numbers. It was exactly the same, Matthew was calling me. It felt like the whole place stood still. 

What am I going to say?

“Sorry, I wanted to tell you last night we have a daughter together, but instead you were in a club, and I got my confirmation you shouldn't be in our daughter's life?” 

I closed my eyes, and rested my head against my chair. My phone kept ringing, but I couldn't decide what to do.

“You could at least pick up, and introduce yourself,” I heard Matthew's voice, and I opened my eyes.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, as the ringtone ended.

“I had a feeling it was you, but I needed to be sure,” he said with a smirk.

“That didn't answer my question,” I said to him.

Matthew walked into my office like he belonged there, like we hadn't just avoided each other for the past four years.

He wore a grey suit—clean, sharp, the way he always dressed when he was trying to impress. His tie was slightly crooked though, and his eyes looked tired, like he hadn’t slept.

“I was around the building for a meeting,” he said, leaning against the door. “I had a feeling it was you calling last night. I decided to put it to a test, and viola,” he said dramatically. I nearly smiled, and laughed.

My heart pounded in my chest. I wasn’t ready for this. Not here. Not now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said quietly, standing up and closing the folder I’d been working on. “This isn’t the time.”

“Then when is the time, Zara?” he asked. “Last night? When you hung up on me?”

“You were in a club,” I snapped. “You couldn’t even hear me.”

“Do you want to know why I was in the club?” He asked, walking towards my desk.

“I rather not,” I said, adjusting away from him, on my chair.

“You can't keep pushing me away, Zara, both of us are in this for the long haul,” he said.

“I rather wish we weren't,” I said, and he scoffed. After a while he walked towards the opposite side of my desk. Where I was seated. 

He turned my chair to face him, with me facing him in the process. I could feel his breath, and he could feel mine.

“You spell nice,” he said, and I felt a tingling feeling all over my body. Damn, he still makes me feel this way. It took a lot of self control not to bite my lips.

“What do you want, Matthew?” I asked him.

“I want a lot of things, Zara,” he said, looking at me. Like he was searching through my soul.

“But first I'm going to do the most important thing for today,” he said, flirtatiously. 

He was trying to rattle me up, trying to see if I would surrender to him. But he is not going to see that, instead I will just play along.

“Yeah, what's that going to be,” I leaned forward, and our faces were closer than ever.

“Okay,” he smacked his lips. “You should implore the shareholders for you all to show your support for one of the governorship candidates for this election,” he said, and I looked at him confused.

“Why, and which Candidate?” I asked.

“I will explain everything soon, but it should be the female candidate. Ms Amelia Russo,” he said.

“The Mexican?”

“The Mexican,” he said, with a smirk. I leaned back, and placed a finger on my lips sexually.

He took a deep breath, and stood up. “What's the second thing?” I asked.

“I was told by my fake girlfriend to make you as uncomfortable as I can,” he, drawing me closer to him, and I swallowed hard.

“Don't try anything funny,” I said to him, sternly.

Matthew chuckled softly, the sound low and dangerous. “Relax, Zara. I’m not going to do anything... unless you ask me to.”

I pushed his hand off gently. “This isn’t a game, Matthew.”

He looked at me seriously now, the playfulness fading from his eyes. “I know. That’s why I’m here. No more hiding. No more running.”

“I'm not running, I just want nothing to do with you,” I said, and he smirked.

His hands trailed my arms, and interlocked with my fingers. My heart began to beat faster. 

“Matthew, please stop,” I found myself saying softly. 

“But I don't want to,” his face came out horsley.

His voice was low, rough—like a warning wrapped in a whisper.

I tried to pull my hand away, but he held on. Not tight. Just firm enough to remind me that he was there, and he wasn’t letting go easily this time.

“Matthew…” I breathed again, but it came out shaky.

“You used to say my name like that right before you kissed me,” he said, stepping in even closer.

I could smell his cologne—woody, deep, familiar. It made my chest ache with a memory I’d buried too deep. His presence felt like heat pressing down on every nerve in my body.

“Don’t do this,” I whispered.

“I’m not doing anything. You’re the one who leaned in first,” he said, his lips so close to mine I could feel the heat radiating off them.

My fingers were still in his, but my body had stopped fighting. My mind screamed to pull away—but my heart, my body, my soul… they betrayed me.

His free hand brushed a strand of hair away from my face. I flinched at the tenderness of it. The way he looked at me right then, like I was the only woman in the world, just like the way he used to.

“I never stopped wanting you,” he said. “Even when I tried.”

His words cracked something inside me.

“Stop saying things like that,” I said, voice thick. “You don’t get to say them.”

“Why not? Because they’re true?”

His forehead rested against mine. My breathing hitched. I didn’t move. I didn’t know how.

“I should hate you,” I said. “I should tell you to leave.”

“Then say it,” he whispered. “Tell me you hate me… and I’ll leave.”

His eyes locked with mine, burning with desire and something deeper. Something dangerous.

“I…” My voice caught in my throat.

Before I could finish, before I could even decide what to say, his lips were on mine.

It wasn’t soft. It was everything I remembered—wild, desperate, hot. Like a firestorm that had been waiting years to explode.

I kissed him back.

For a second. Just one.