All Chapters of THE TIES THAT BINDS US.: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Matthew's POV Adrian sank heavily onto the couch, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps, his eyes already burning with a hunger that eclipsed everything else. It wasn’t just desire—it was something darker, something primal. And I could feel it, too, swirling inside me, pulling me toward him like gravity. I followed his lead, my legs slipping around his waist as I straddled him, the heat of his body colliding with mine in a rush that set every nerve on fire. Our bodies slammed together like two storms, tearing through each other, both of us desperate to be pulled apart and stitched back together in a single, violent union.There was no room for hesitation. No time for restraint. Our lips crashed together, urgently, demanding, a collision of fire and needed to obliterate everything else. The outside world vanished in that instant, leaving only the raw, undeniable truth: nothing mattered but this, nothing could ever matter more.We kissed like the earth was ending. Like the world had

Matthew's POV I grabbed the last bag sitting on the bed, giving the room one final, lingering glance. The walls, once so familiar, now seemed foreign, stripped of everything that made them ours. It felt strange, leaving like this — a bittersweet tug in my chest I couldn't explain, a quiet ache blooming under my ribs. Tightening my fingers around the handle, I drew in a slow breath, grounding myself, then stepped out and headed downstairs. Adrian was already there, waiting at the bottom of the staircase like a sentinel carved out of shadow and light. The moment my foot touched the ground floor, he moved, closing the distance between us with a few quick strides. Without a word, he took the bag from my hand, his touch casual but lingering — like he wanted to take every burden off me, not just the physical ones but the ones stitched deep into my bones. Wordlessly, I followed him out. The air outside wrapped around me, crisp and cool, tinged with the damp, earthy scent of rain still cl

Everything had been going perfectly—so perfectly, in fact, that I dared to believe the universe was finally giving me a break. Our time together felt like a dream I never wanted to wake from, a fleeting slice of heaven stitched together with laughter, silent glances, and stolen kisses. Just like how we had arrived—excited and wrapped up in each other—we rode back home, the weight of the world forgotten for those few precious hours.The wind outside hummed against the car, but inside, it was quiet. Comfortable. Safe.But somewhere along the way, something clicked in me. Or maybe it unraveled. I looked over at Adrain—always composed, always in control—but there was a fire in his eyes whenever he looked at me. A wild, unspoken intensity that said everything his mouth didn’t. That man may come off like ice to others, but when it came to me... he burned. He was obsessive, overbearing even, never letting me drift too far. And though it should've felt suffocating, strangely, it didn’t. I nev

Matthew turned his back to Adrain, his spine rigid, like a wall hastily rebuilt after a collapse. His shoulders quivered as he scrubbed at his face with both hands—rough, trembling palms dragging down skin already raw. He wasn’t just wiping away tears. He was clawing at the storm beneath them, desperate to rid himself of the weight, the filth of what he felt. The emotion clung like grime soaked deep into his pores, no matter how hard he rubbed. His breath hitched, uneven and sharp, like each inhale scraped along the inside of his chest. The silence that pooled between them wasn’t passive—it pressed down like a lead blanket, heavy with all the words neither of them could voice. It screamed without sound, teeming with every cut left to fester, every truth withheld, every apology that came too late. Adrain could hear the chaos inside Matthew’s body—the ragged way he breathed, the stiff way he held himself like he was about to break or bolt. Then Matthew shifted, just a fraction. His f

MATTHEW'S POV Maybe losing myself over love wasn’t the most excruciating pain I could endure. Heartbreak had its sting, yes, but nothing—absolutely nothing—compared to the agony of losing my sister. The pain didn’t come in sharp bursts. It was slow. Numbing. A hollow ache that echoed in every breath, every heartbeat, every damn second that ticked by without her. And the worst part? I blamed myself. Hated myself. Because no matter how much I rewrote the narrative in my head, it always ended with the same bitter truth: I couldn’t protect her. The one person I was meant to guard with my life. Jordan had tried to explain, his lips moving but his words muffled by the rage pounding in my ears. I couldn’t stay. I wouldn’t. I stormed out, ignoring the pain in his eyes, jumped into my car and sped off, tires shrieking against the asphalt like a warning I refused to hear. The silence that followed wasn’t peace—it was madness. And I wasn’t ready to drown in it. Not again. I wouldn’t be qui