MatthiasMany said that love made life more beautiful. Some swore by it, claiming it gave meaning to their existence, as if life itself wasn’t enough. Whether that was true or not, I didn’t know. I didn’t intend to find out either. What was clear was that life without love was still possible. It didn’t make a person less whole, less capable. If anything, in my case, it made life easier. There was nothing to expect, nothing to wish for, and nothing to be disappointed about. No one to betray me, no one to leave. The only thing that mattered was what I wanted and what I did to achieve it.I didn’t have to waste my time thinking about something that may or may not happen. Something that people liked to romanticize but rarely seemed to understand themselves.Nonexistent—that was what my mother’s love had been for me.I didn’t remember anything about her. Not her voice, not her face, not the way she used to look at me—if she ever did. It was just a blank space where memories should have be
AltheaAnother day, another meeting to attend.I used to think being a boss or holding a high-ranking position was an easy job. Not easy because the work was enjoyable, but because there would always be someone else doing the boss’s work. Isn’t that why so many people want to be leaders?Unfortunately, reality wasn’t as beautiful as I had imagined. The position I currently held barely allowed me to relax or sit back and do nothing. There were always calls and emails to respond to. There was always news—sometimes beneficial, sometimes shocking because of how "innovative" it was (that was sarcasm, in case you didn’t get it). And peace felt like a rare luxury when money was something I had to deal with every single day.“You’re getting better at meetings, ma’am,” Rebecca told me. “This time, they asked fewer questions than in the last meeting.”Following the success of The Art Palette, I knew Erbeauty had to keep moving forward and coming up with new ideas. That’s why I was working on th
AltheaMatthias was here.I knew we were in the same city, and we’re also basically in the same business world. Even so, was New York supposed to be this small? My meeting was in Brooklyn, while his office (and also mine) was in Manhattan. I didn’t think he was the type to grab lunch by twenty to forty minutes drive away.What was he doing here?It felt kinda wrong to question this. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like I didn’t want to see him whatsoever, it’s just … well, unexpected. And when I looked at him, those blue icy eyes turned into fire. I knew he didn’t call me to welcome me. He was mad. That was when I realized how close I was to Tristan.Why did it feel like I was caught doing something bad?“What are you doing here, Matt?” I tried to break the silence, hoping his gaze softened. Well, it didn’t, just like what I thought. It wasn’t as surprising as the fact he was here.His jaw tensed as he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, even in a room filled with people. “I shou
AltheaHis kiss was rushed, messy, yet hot at the same time. My breath hitched. The kiss was urgent, heated, like he was trying to make a statement without words. His hands remained on the desk, caging me in, but he wasn’t pulling me closer—not yet. As if he was waiting for something. A reaction. A rejection.But I couldn’t move.My fingers tightened against the desk’s surface, the cool wood pressing into my skin as my mind scrambled to catch up with what was happening. Matthias—cold, brooding, unreadable Matthias—was kissing me. His lips were firm yet seeking, like he was testing a boundary neither of us fully understood. Heat coiled deep in my stomach, spreading through my limbs like wildfire, but my thoughts remained a tangled mess.This shouldn’t be happening.Every logical part of me screamed at the sheer absurdity of it. He was frustrating, impossible, and so infuriatingly distant most of the time. But none of that mattered at this moment. The only thing I could focus on was th
Matthias“Where are we going exactly, Matthias?”Our quick sex gave a more lasting effect for my brain than the duration of the sex itself. Because everytime Althea called my name, her moan also circled in my mind. But I needed to focus. There was something I had to do first. A few days ago, I tried to look more into Reiley Hannah Alden. I didn’t find much, just as I expected, because since the start there wasn’t much to find. The Alden family was just a simple regular family that lived in a suburb, keeping a low profile as restaurant owner, while their only daughter, Reiley Alden, was a teacher. You wouldn’t find intricate and complicated information from people with that background.Maybe they would have a good life (or at least a good and normal death) if Reiley didn’t meet Jessen-Keith Lewis.To find something, I knew that I had to start from the low, from the basics. That was how I found the location of Marcus Smith, the previous head principal of the Staten Junior High, the sch
AltheaHave you ever wondered what the right feeling should be in a specific situation? Should you feel relief, sadness, or something in between? Should you even feel anything at all?That was the uncertainty that consumed me now. Hearing Marcus’s story some time ago brought a slight sense of relief and pride. My mother was a great woman. She was kind, caring, and well-liked. She had everything it took to be a good mother—at least in my opinion.She could have been. She should have been. But in the end, I was still left with no one. And that was where the mixed emotions began to settle in, twisting inside me like an unshakable weight.The more I thought about it, the more questions piled up in my mind, growing heavier with each passing moment. Marcus spoke so highly of my mother, yet there was an unspoken tragedy lingering behind his words. It was like there was a missing piece—something that didn’t fit into the beautiful image he had painted of her. What exactly happened? What led he
MatthiasSometimes, the world really didn’t help when we were planning something.I wasn’t too surprised by that. The world had always been a shitty place to live in, but it was the only place to be alive. No matter how much effort I put in, how much I calculated each move, there was always a chance that things would go wrong. The world might have refused to cooperate, but I had always made sure to stay one step ahead—predicting its moves before it could ruin mine.That's what I did. Usually. But this time, I wanted to give a big fuck you to the world for messing things up when progress was right in front of me.I had known Althea was about to meet Fenny. I had known that because I had made it happen. It had taken weeks, maybe even months, of effort. I had tracked Fenny down, pouring money into the process, paying Cyan a ridiculous amount just so he could focus entirely on finding her. I wasn’t going to let her slip away. Not when she was the key to something bigger—something that had
AltheaFenny still hasn’t regained consciousness. The medical results show that the poison in her body is at an extremely high dose—just the fact that she’s still breathing is already a miracle. Every possible treatment will be attempted, but when it comes to life and death, no doctor or advanced equipment can provide any certainty.That means there’s nothing I can do but wait. And waiting, as I’ve learned, is sometimes the hardest thing to do. The helplessness, the uncertainty—it all weighs on me, making every second stretch endlessly. I didn’t know much about God, but if He truly did exist, I hoped that this time, He would help.But other than that, I basically could do nothing.The world outside the hospital room didn’t stop for anyone, no matter how much I wanted it to. Time kept moving, and so did responsibilities. So, after ensuring there was nothing else I could do for Fenny at the moment, I left for the office, hoping work would serve as a distraction.As I entered my office,
AltheaThe day I moved into some apartment I rented impulsively, it had rained.Not a cinematic kind of rain; the poetic kind that makes you feel reborn or something melodramatic like that. No. It was just grey and annoying, the kind that soaked through your sweater before you realized it and turned cardboard boxes soggy at the edges.A neighbor helped me carry a few things upstairs, some guy with AirPods in and no questions asked. I didn’t even catch his name. He handed me a dripping box labeled Bedroom and disappeared before I could say thank you. The elevator doors closed and I just stood there, clutching my new keys like they might anchor me to something.This was supposed to be a new beginning. But it didn’t feel like a beginning at all. It felt like a concession.The apartment was on the twelfth floor. I picked it because of the view. Something about seeing the whole city stretch below me made me think I’d feel less trapped. But instead, the height only made the silence louder.
AltheaWhen I thought everything was okay, all the walls were tumbling down. My life, my happiness, everything.I woke up in a haze, my head pounding as if I had been hit by a hundred storms. The sharp scent of antiseptic stung my nose, and I felt the unfamiliar weight of a hospital blanket over me. My limbs were heavy, uncooperative, as if they belonged to someone else, and my chest felt tight. It took a moment for my eyes to focus, the world around me blurry and indistinct.The pain was the first thing I recognized. A dull, aching throb in my lower abdomen, deep and unrelenting. I reached for it instinctively, as if I could touch the wound and make it go away. But when my hand brushed against the skin, it felt foreign—empty. As if the very thing I was searching for was no longer there.The memories rushed back like a flood.The blood. The pain. The terror that had washed over me in the moments before I lost consciousness. The frantic urgency of Matthias’s voice, calling my name, the
MatthiasThe elevator groaned as it descended, like the machine itself was reluctant to take me where I was going. Each floor ticked past with a hollow ding, echoing up the shaft like a countdown I hadn’t agreed to. Somewhere in the stillness between the fifth and the fourth floor, I caught my reflection in the polished steel of the doors; drawn face, bloodshot eyes, jaw clenched so tight it ached. I looked like a man walking into something he might not walk out of.The feeling of unease settled in the pit of my stomach, growing heavier with each passing second. The soft hum of the elevator's motor seemed to mock me, as if it knew the uncertainty that lay ahead. I tried to shake off the sense of foreboding, reminding myself that I had a job to do, a mission to complete. But as the elevator finally reached the ground floor and the doors slid open with a hiss, I couldn't help but wonder if I was walking into a trap.I didn’t bother adjusting my coat when the doors opened. The hallway ou
MatthiasAlthea's condition was getting worse, to the point she had to get into an operation room.Time did not make everything calmer; instead, every second scraped across my nerves like the edge of a dull blade. Each tick of the wall clock sounded louder than the last, a metronome counting down to something I couldn’t name. The longer I sat there, the more I felt like I was unraveling by degrees, breath by breath.I sat stiffly in the dimly lit waiting area just past the ICU doors, one foot tapping without rhythm against the waxed linoleum floor. That smell—the sour tang of antiseptic—clung to everything: the walls, the plastic seats, and the inside of my throat. It mixed with the faint scent of coffee long gone cold and something metallic, like the memory of blood. The air was cool, but my jacket stuck to me anyway, and every breath I took felt borrowed.I tried to distract myself by flipping through a magazine left on the table, but the words blurred together and the pictures seem
[Folded Page]Flashback, Part IIThe phone rang just past three in the morning.The burner, tucked beneath a drawer in the dresser, buzzed once—twice—its low hum slicing through the silence like a blade. Jess hadn’t been asleep. Not really. His body had settled, eyes closed for just minutes, but his mind had remained wired, straining through the dark for sounds that didn’t belong.His hand moved automatically, fingers closing around the phone, the sickening feeling of dread blooming in his stomach before his brain could even process why. Something was wrong. He knew it.The moment he answered, his voice was rough, hoarse from a mix of exhaustion and a deep, gnawing fear.“Reiley?” The word came out more as a prayer than a question, but it was too late. His heart was already sinking.The voice on the other end wasn’t hers. It was too calm. Too controlled.“Jessen,” the woman said. Her tone was efficient, practiced — not one ounce of emotion, not one crack of humanity breaking through.
[Folded Page]FlashbackThe rain battered the windows of the small house like fists of fury, the storm outside a violent mirror of the one raging within. Wind shrieked through the trees like lost souls, and every thunderclap seemed to rattle the very bones of the house.Reiley Alden paced the length of the living room, her bare feet soundless against the worn, splintered hardwood. She moved like a caged thing, restless, hunted. In the cradle tucked tightly into the corner — the safest corner she could find — baby Althea slept fitfully, her tiny face scrunched in some fretful dream only infants understood. The occasional twitch of her small hands made Reiley’s heart ache in a way that almost brought her to her knees.The storm outside was nothing compared to the one brewing inside her chest. She longed for it to pass, for the world to somehow become kind again — but some part of her, the part that had survived too much already, knew it never would.She paused by the fireplace, the flic
MatthiasA panic attack slammed into me like a freight train the moment they wheeled her through the emergency room doors.Althea lay so still on the gurney, her skin almost translucent under the harsh fluorescent lights, her breathing shallow and uneven, as if each breath cost her more than she could give. Her head lolled slightly to one side, and the sight of it—of her, usually so vibrant and stubbornly full of life, now fragile and terrifyingly still—carved something brutal and cold through my chest, a feeling I couldn't shake even as I stumbled forward.I tried to follow—I needed to follow—but a nurse stepped into my path, palm up, firm but not unkind. "Sir, you have to wait here. We'll update you as soon as we can," she said, her voice kind but leaving no room for argument."No—" I rasped, the sound of it cracking out of me, unfamiliar and raw. "I’m sorry," she said again, softer this time, her eyes flickering with sympathy. "Please. Let us help her."Helplessness crashed over
AltheaThe world tilted when I tried to sit up, but I was okay. My stomach did a little dance, and I bit my lip, blinking against the wave of nausea that swept over me. The old couch moaned as I settled back into its cushions, pulling the cozy blanket even tighter around my shoulders, as if it could hold me together."Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Then, Matthias's voice broke through the quiet, low and urgent.I shook my head firmly, even though the motion made the room spin again. "I'm doing well, Matt," I said, though I could see he was worried. "It's just a feeling of nausea. It's just the usual stuff that happens during pregnancy."Matthias remained seated near the window, but the tension in his body was almost tangible. His arms were crossed, his broad shoulders stiff beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. Golden shafts of fading afternoon light slanted across the room, casting long shadows that made everything feel both too still and too fragile."You've bee
Folded PageThe room was pretty dark, with only a desk lamp lighting up a bit, making everything look a bit dull and sickly. The curtains were drawn tight, shutting out the world, as if even the night outside didn't deserve to witness what was about to go down.He was sitting still, and you could barely see him because he was so dark. The only sign of his anger was the soft, regular tapping of his finger against the armrest.On the desk, a small bottle of medicine sat upright — harmless at first glance, and pretty ordinary.But it wasn't a typical situation.Not to him.Not to her.And definitely not to Matthias Cox.He took a slow, thoughtful breath as he leaned forward, his hand hovering over the bottle before finally picking it up. The glass felt cold against his skin, but he welcomed the chill. It helped him think. It reminded him why he had waited so long for this.Althea; The ideal crack in Matthias's armor.He was turning the bottle slowly between his fingers, studying it like