Semua Bab Bound By Chaos: Bab 11 - Bab 20

The front door slams open so hard the walls shake. I bolt upright with a gasp, heart instantly in my throat.“Emma!” I whisper. I scramble, panic exploding through me as reality crashes back in all at once. Matteo. My bed. The fact that I am very much not alone and very much not dressed.“Oh my God—oh my God—”I trip over my own feet trying to grab my sweatshirt, nearly face-planting into the dresser as I yank it over my head. My jeans are inside out. I don’t care. I shove them on anyway, hopping awkwardly on one foot.Behind me, Matteo sits up far more calmly than a man should in this situation. We didn’t have sex last night, but we did do a lot of making hot, dry humping, and oral sex. I’m not ready to have sex yet, and I’m thankful that Matteo understood that and didn’t pressure me for more. “Libby,” he says, voice rough with sleep but completely steady, “breathe.”I shoot him a look that says this is not the time.He swings his legs over the side of the bed, unhurried, pulling hi

I wake up already braced.My body feels like it’s been holding its breath all night, muscles tight, jaw sore from clenching. For a second, I don’t know where I am. All I remember is that something bad happened and I survived it.Then the memory snaps into place. I remember the bookstore, the sound of the thief and I’s bodies hitting shelves, and then the look on Matteo’s face.I sit up too fast and have to pause, hand pressed to my chest until my heart slows enough to listen to me again.In the kitchen, I make coffee I don’t really want and stare at the wall while it brews. My hands shake when I lift the mug. I wrap both palms around it, letting the heat anchor me.I hate that I froze. I hate that part of me knew, logically, that Matteo saved me, that he stopped the man, that he never once touched me in anger, and I hate even more that none of that mattered to my body. All it saw was a man losing control and all it heard was the echo of a night I try very hard not to remember.My fath

Matteo isn’t there.I notice it immediately, even though I tell myself I won’t. The front door chimes, I look up out of habit, and the space behind the counter stays occupied only by Luca and a stack of returns.Something in my chest loosens, something else aches, and both feelings surprise me. I busy myself with the small things first. Straightening bookmarks. Wiping the counter that doesn’t really need it. Re-shelving a book I already put away once. The bookstore feels steadier today, like the memory of the robbery has settled into the walls instead of clinging to my skin.I can breathe and still, every time the bell rings, part of me checks. He doesn’t come. By midafternoon, I stop pretending I don’t know why that matters.I think about the basket.The way I stood outside the window longer than I should have, convincing myself I was imagining the intimacy between Matteo and the woman inside. The way I told myself it didn’t hurt, that I had no right to feel anything at all.I pictur

The bell over the door chimes and my head lifts on instinct, my body already moving into the customer service version of myself—polite smile, steady voice, no flinching.Then I see her.She’s dressed neatly, her dark hair curled like she took time with it. She pauses just inside the entrance, scanning the store, and when her eyes land on Matteo behind the counter… her whole face softens.Like she found something she lost.My stomach sinks in the slow, awful way it did the night I stood outside the window with a gift basket in my hands. Matteo goes still. Not visibly—not dramatic but I’ve learned his tells in small moments. The way his shoulders square. The way his jaw tightens like he’s bracing for impact.“Hi,” she says, walking closer. Her voice is light, friendly—too friendly for a stranger.“Mariela,” Matteo replies. Flat. Controlled.She glances at me then, smile widening as if remembering she’s being observed. “Oh—hi!” she says, cheerful. “I didn’t realize you were open.”“We ar

A week later, my house is loud. That alone feels like a victory. The pool is alive with splashing and laughter, sunlight flashing off the water like it’s showing off. Sofia is stretched out on a lounge chair pretending she’s relaxed while still tracking Renata’s every breath. Luca is in the pool, shirtless, holding their daughter just above the water while she kicks enthusiastically like she’s trying to swim her way into a medal.Gio is already wet, because of course he is, and Cara is perched on the edge with her feet in the water, sunglasses pushed up into her hair and then there’s Emma.Emma sees Cara and absolutely loses her mind.“IT’S REALLY YOU,” she screams, running so fast she nearly wipes out on the tile.Libby stiffens instantly beside me. I feel it, the way her shoulders tense, the way her mouth opens like she’s about to apologize for a child who hasn’t actually done anything wrong yet.Emma skids to a stop in front of Cara, eyes huge. “I KNOW ALL YOUR SONGS. ALL OF THEM.