Page 121 of Wedlocked

I lifted my foot, and he tugged off the boot and then tapped my other foot so I would lift it too. When they were gone, he placed the UGG slippers he’d bought me close by so I could slide them on.

Avoiding his eyes, I turned my face, looking at the single strand of fairy lights he’d strung above the bed. I thought he was crazy when I saw him shoving string lights into a suitcase. But when I stepped out of the bathroom our first night here and all the overheads in the room were off with just those fairy lights twinkling above the bed and my pink blanket spread out, I understood. He’d taken the time to make this room feel like home. Familiar.

The soft lights, blanket, and even my slippers were pieces of a puzzle… a puzzle that made up me.

Staring at the lights now, having him slide my slippers close, and thinking about how much I needed him was the final straw. Almost as if the contrast between the chaotic day and this calm, peaceful, and familiar space was too jarring.

Listen, we already established I’m an odd fish. Hi.

Abruptly, I spun from the bed, one of the slippers flipping off, but I kept moving, one on and one off. The sensation built an odd sense of foreboding inside me, the pressure intense like an inbound hurricane. My breathing turned slightly labored, and the ringing in my ears was vicious.

Arsen called for me. Probably to get my lost slipper.

I wasn’t sure because I was well beyond hearing. Scrambling to the dresser, I yanked it open only to stare dumbly down at the empty drawer.My clothes aren’t in the dresser.Discombobulated, I spun again toward the large bathroom where we’d dropped our suitcases.

Ooomph. It was more of a grunt than the air rushing out of me because I didn’t have enough oxygen in my lungs to rush anywhere just then. Body rebounding, I stumbled backward from the hard collide.

“Hey,” Arsen’s voice was gentle, hands firm when they wrapped around my upper arms. “It’s all right. You’re okay.” He comforted me, pulling me in.

I fought him, squirming out of his hold and slipping away.

“Matthew.”

“I’m going to put my pajamas on,” I said, not really hearing myself speak.

Heart pounding, I shut myself in the ensuite and went right to Arsen’s suitcase to find something to put on. A broken sob escaped from the confines of my tight throat when I realized what I was doing.

Wear your own clothes, Matthew.

I did, but it made me feel sick and my knees even weaker than before. I found a T-shirt that used to be my favorite and a pair of loose sweatpants. After kicking off the one slipper, I tugged off the dress pants I’d worn to dinner and let them lie in a tangled heap. The sweats felt wrong, the T-shirt too tight.

The AirPods in my ear were silent, the music having gone silent sometime in the car. I wasn’t even sure where my phone was to play something else, and I had no bandwidth to try and look.

Instead, I tugged out the little white pods and dropped them in the mess of clothes falling out of my open suitcase. My skinwas itchy, the cold weather making it dry. The blunt edges of my nails stung the inside of my elbow when I scratched, but I kept at it. The sharp pricks of pain were somehow satisfying.

Knock-knock.

The scratching intensified, this time across my chest, my fingers digging right into the too-tight, not-soft-enough shirt. I was a prisoner inside my own skin, an inmate of my own mind.

“Matthew.” A beat of silence. “I need to talk to you.”

This was it.

The end.

TheI’m tired of youtalk. Thewhat kind of boyfriend can’t manage a vacation with his friends without panickinggoodbye.

The handle on the bathroom door rattled. Then the door opened.

He filled the doorway just like he filled up my heart. So big and commanding,owning every inch of his space and then some. He was still wearing a pair of black tuxedo pants with black satin ribbon stripes down the outside of the legs. A double silver chain draped from the front of the waistband and around to the back, this one with silver music notes hanging from the length.

The long-sleeved white dress shirt he wore was untucked, unbuttoned, and open all the way down. The gap in the fabric showed his skin, and when he moved, one of his pierced nipples showed. The tattoo under his pec was dark against his skin, and the sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the new tattoo circling his forearm just below his elbow. A wave.

Water because I love swimming.

Desire and panic jammed, clogging me up like a backed-up toilet. Adrenaline surged through my limbs, stirring up the urge to fight or flight, and I started to bolt.

I made it only to the bathroom door before Arsen caught me, using his body to keep me from fleeing. “Whoa. You’re okay, baby. I got you.”

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