Page 45 of Tension
My hands slip beneath the collar of his shirt, fingers spreading across his skin. His hands roam my sides beneath my jacket, fingertips tracing reverently, as if committing me to memory. He kisses me like he’s trying to forget everything but this moment.
When we finally break apart, breathless and shaken, I look up at him, heart pounding. “You can’t be alone tonight,” I tell him. “It’s Christmas.”
He searches my face, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you sure?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit, brushing my fingers along his jaw. “But I know I’ll never forgive myself if I let you leave here alone.”
He nods, the stiffness in his shoulders easing ever so slightly, then reaches for my hand again, threading our fingers together before we push through the crowd once more. This time, toward the door.
EIGHTEEN
Mateo
The city rushes past in smears of festive gold and drab gray, streetlights blurring through the cab window as if the world itself can’t decide what it wants to be, bright or dark. The warmth of Vaeda’s hand in mine anchors me to the seat, her touch steady and real against the tide of chaos still churning inside my chest. She hasn’t let go. Even after everything tonight, she’s still here. Still beside me.
The high from being near her still vibrates through my veins, her scent clinging to my skin. My lips are tinged with the memory of hers, and yet beneath it all, something sinister pulses. Guilt. Fear. The aftershock of how close I came to falling.
I almost drank.
The words are quiet in my mind, but their echo is deafening. I almost let it all go, almost let one moment of weakness unravel the fragile thread I’ve been walking since the day I opened my eyes in that hospital bed. For a heartbeat tonight, I thought maybe giving up would feel like freedom. Then she appeared, shattered the glass in my hand, and chased away the fog in mymind. Now she sits next to me, silent and unreadable. Her jaw is tense, lips set, her eyes fixed out the window, reflecting the city’s glow without revealing anything inside.
My phone buzzes against my leg and I pull it out of my pocket. Yvonne’s name blinks on the screen like a warning. I hit the side button and silence it, but not fast enough because Vaeda sees it. She doesn’t say anything at first, but her lips press together more tightly. Then I feel the crack in the moment. The shift.
“There’s nothing there,” I say quietly, but the words taste thin.
She turns slowly, her eyes guarded and knowing. “Except she’s the one you answered. When everything was falling apart, she’s the one you chose to let in when you were so close to tipping over that edge.” Her voice isn’t cruel. It’s worse, filled with disappointment and sounding wounded.
“I didn’t drink,” I offer, my voice tighter than I want it to be. “I didn’t even touch it.”
“But you almost did,” she replies, eyes narrowing just slightly. “And you almost let her be the one to catch you.”
“I didn’t think you’d care.” My hand tightens around hers when she tries to release mine. “Don’t you remember your marriage and the ten years between us?”
She blinks, her mouth parting just slightly. “Why would you think that I wouldn’t care?” She ignores everything else, choosing to focus on the first part instead.
My throat feels like sand and I swallow hard. “Because you keep pushing me away.”
Her gaze drops, shame flickering briefly across her features. “I push because I’m scared. Because I don’t trust myself. Because I’m married, Mateo.”
“I know,” I whisper. “But I never stopped hoping you’d show up anyway.” A beat of silence stretches between us, laden with everything we’ve said and haven’t said. “I’m not a saint,” I admit, my voice trembling now. “But you... You’re the only thing thatmakes me want to be better. Not for the program. Not for my family. For me. For you. For us. If we ever get to have that.”
Her hand tightens in mine, just barely, and I look down at the way our fingers fit, like they were made to. “I’m not your redemption,” she counters, but there’s no bite behind it.
“I’m not asking you to be,” I say. “But you make me want to stay clean. You make me want to fight harder.” The cab rolls to a stop outside her building, but neither of us moves. “I wanted to forget you tonight,” I confess. “That’s why I picked up when Yvonne called. That’s why I went to that bar. I wanted to lose you in the noise.” Her breath catches. “But even in that place, with temptation all around me, you were the only thing I could feel.”
She turns to me then, her expression cracked wide open, flooded with potent fear. “You scare the hell out of me,” she whispers.
I nod slowly. “You do the same to me.”
We ride the elevator in silence. Vaeda leans against the back wall, arms crossed, the soft glow from the overhead light illuminating the muscle in her jaw. I can feel her retreating already, slipping into that unreachable place she disappears to when the world edges too close.
When the doors open, I follow her down the hallway to her penthouse. She unlocks the door and pushes it open with a quiet sigh, stepping inside and toeing off her shoes before hanging up her jacket.
“Where’s your husband?” I ask, my voice low.
Her back stiffens before she answers. “He had to fly to Spain. His mother isn’t well.”
“Oh,” I murmur, stepping in behind her. The door closes with a soft click that somehow feels too loud in the stillness. Now it makes sense why she even invited me over here. I should’ve realized that the moment she offered at the club.
