Chapter 22
“Doing what?” she replied, trying to sound indifferent. Maybe she wanted him to say it, to admit what he was thinking.
“You left me, Colette. I didn’t abandon you! You are still my wife, and my wife doesn’t need to work as a waitress to earn a living. His voice gees loader, each word laced with frustration. He stepped closer, grabbing her chin to force her to look into his eyes. “What is this, Itty? Another way to show the world that I’m a failure? That I’ve failed as a husband who can’t provide for his wife?”
“I never said that!” Colette interrupted, her voice shaky, but Matt wasn’t listening.
“Then why else are you working this low–paying job? Unless this is yet another way of blackmailing me into giving in to your crazy demands?” He was shouting now, his grip tightening on her shoulders as he pulled her closer. “Is that it, Colette? You want me to fire fris, or you’ll keep doing things like this
to torment me? To hurt me more?”
His voice was filled with pain, and though he turned his face away, Colette saw a lone tear. escape his eye. Suddenly, she understood. This wasn’t just about their fight. This was about Matt’s past, about his mother who had worked low–paying jobs to support him and his siblings after their father died. The bitterness of those years, the struggle and the shame, had scarred him deeply.
Colette hadn’t understood just how deeply this had affected him until she saw the anger in his eyes today.
“Matt… I am…” Colette’s words were cut off as Matt’s hands clamped down on her shoulders, pulling her into a fervent kiss. The world around her blurred, the sounds of the city and the restaurant fading away. His lips were insistent, demanding, as if he was trying to erase all the pain and misunderstandings with this one act. She felt the rough texture of the brick wall against her back and the cold, metallic surface of the dumpster beside them.
His body pressed against hers, and she felt the undeniable evidence of his arousal. Her cheeks flushed with a deep crimson, reminiscent of a schoolgirl’s first kiss. She responded in kind, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Time lost all meaning as they kissed with a desperate passion, each of them pouring their emotions into the embrace.
When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathless. His eyes bored into hers, a strange mixture of desire, regret, and something she couldn’t quite place. She was half–expecting him to demand she come home with him, to fix everything right then and there.
But instead, he surprised her. “Dinner on Saturday?” he asked, his voice almost sheepish. The intensity of the moment shifted as he looked at her with a hopeful expression.
Colette nodded, still catching her breath. “Great, I’ll pick you up at eight then,” he said, his voice lighter, almost relieved. He leaned in for another sweet kiss, this one more tender than the last, leaving her yearning for more.
He pulled away and left, the back door of the restaurant closing behind him with a soft thud. Colette stood there, her mind reeling. The kiss, the unexpected invitation–it all left her feeling more confused and conflicted than ever.
She leaned against the cold brick wall, her fingers touching her lips where his kiss still lingered. Why did she feel so sad and disappointed? She realized it was because he hadn’t asked her to come home. The dinner invitation was nice, but it felt like a step backward, not forward. It proved that he wasn’t letting Iris go, that he still saw this as a temporary rift, something that could be fixed with time and patience, without giving up his dear–dear Iris.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
