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Sebastian
“I did it,” Matilda exclaims as I step into our apartment. “I really did it.”
I know what she’s talking about before the words leave her perfect pink lips. She cooked dinner for me. She fucking cooked me dinner.
I can’t tell what it is, but it smells incredible.
I look over at where she’s standing next to the dining room table with two wine glasses in her hands.
There’s a bottle of red on the table, uncorked.
“Will you do me the pleasure of pouring our wine so I can toast to tonight?”
I stand frozen in place staring at the woman I’ll never get over. I’ll never forget the taste of her lips, or the softness of her every curve.
I’ll hold onto the memory of her voice for as long as I live.
“Matilda.” I swallow hard.
“I know, I know.” She places the wine glasses down. “You got busy with a case. That’s why you didn’t make it home first. “
No, that’s not why.
I spent three hours with my lieutenant, running over every detail of the last two times the mystery son-of-a-bitch sent roses to women I love.
Christine tried to reassure me that this time was no different than the last, or the time before that.
She assigned security details to my mom and Nyx for weeks after they received their bouquets.
Forensic tests were run on the bouquets and cards. They came up empty.
The only other alarm that was sounded was when Nyx received a series of calls at her shop from someone asking for me.
It concerned us both enough that she moved into my apartment for a month. She took my bed. I took the couch and my roommate at the time, Brad, hit on her once before she shut him down.
She moved back to her place when she got sick of me telling her everything would be okay.
I didn’t believe my own words, but she did.
Christine pulled the security details eventually and even though I’ve always kept my guard up, I felt reassured by the silence.
Until today.
I’ve made too many enemies to count since I joined the force. Some are locked up on Rikers Island, others have already served their debt to society and are now out looking to even the score. A few were never convicted and I’ve run into them on the street.
The threats are always subtly implied.
Not one has been followed through, but that’s not a gamble I’m willing to take. Not with Matilda. I won’t risk her safety.
There’s already a security detail on her. One of the men is sitting in a car across the street from our building.
He’ll follow her to work tomorrow and when his partner takes over mid-day, he’ll follow her home.
They have strict orders to stay back far enough that she doesn’t notice them, but close enough that they can protect her if need be.
It’s not enough for me. I want to shadow her forever, but my presence puts her in jeopardy.
“Do you like my dress?” Matilda spins in a circle and the skirt of her short black dress picks up, revealing a pair of red lace panties.
My favorite.
“It’s beautiful.” I exhale harshly. “We need to talk.”
Her smile brightens as if it’s a good thing.
“Let’s sit down.” She gestures toward the sofa.
I’ve kissed her there. I’ve made love to her there. I wish to fuck I would have met her anywhere but in this apartment.
This is where I fell in love with her.
I settle in next to her, leaving enough space between us that I won’t be tempted to take her in my arms and never let her go.
“Are we going to talk about our feelings?” she asks in a voice that’s barely more than a whisper. “If we are, can I go first?”
Christ, please. Please, don’t let her say she loves me.
I can’t hear those words. They will haunt me forever. They will slowly kill me.
I swallow and take a ragged breath. I promised myself I’d never to lie to her. I vowed that I would always be honest with her, but tonight I have to break that to protect her.
“I’m moving out,” I say it quickly to get the words out.
Her gaze drops to my mouth as her bottom lip trembles. “What did you say?”
I fist my hand on my knee. “I need to move out, Matilda. I think it’s for the best.”
“The best?” she repeats back slowly. “What does that mean?”
She can’t absorb what I’m saying. I’ve seen it over and over again in my work. People unwilling to accept what they’re hearing because they are clinging to what they want to believe is true.
In those cases, it’s the loss of a loved one that their heart can’t grasp. For Matilda, it’s the death of our love.
Tears well in the corners of her eyes. “What are you saying, Sebastian?”
I scrub my hand over my face to hold back my emotions. “This has to end.”
“This?” She spits the word out. “Us?”
I hang my head as I nod. “Yes.”
“I thought...” She stumbles as she gets to her feet.
I’m up too grabbing for her out of instinct, but she swats my hands away. Her breathing is labored and uneven. “I thought this was different. I thought you felt what I felt.”
I did. I do. I love you, Matilda. I fucking love you.
She stands in place, her hands shaking as she clasps them together in front of her. “I thought I was different.”
I’m causing her pain. I need this to be done. “I haven’t changed. It’s me, Matilda. I can’t change. A relationship won’t work in my life.”
Her gaze skims my face as tears stream down her cheeks. “Are you leaving tonight?”
I look over at the open door of my bedroom. “I’ll go now. I’ll come back in a day or two to pick up my things.”
She bites her lower lip to still it. “I’d appreciate if you would text me to tell me when. I don’t want to be here when you come back.”
I almost double over from the look of excruciating pain on her face. “I will.”
She turns and rounds the sofa in silence before she crosses the apartment, goes into her bedroom and closes the door.
