Seeing that I had stopped crying, Matthew relaxed. He put the car in gear and merged into traffic, his tone casual. "Two months ago. I picked her up from the airport."
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.
"The elders restored the engagement," he added. "My hands are tied."
*Two months ago.*
No wonder he vanished on my birthday without a single text. No wonder he suddenly started posting photos for a week straight—shots taken from low angles, featuring a smile brighter than anything he'd ever given me.
He had been with Julia Fox.
I turned toward the window. The city blurred past. I didn't say another word.
That night, I slept on the very edge of the bed, leaving a vast, cold expanse between us.
When Matthew finished his shower, he reached for me out of habit, leaning in for a goodnight kiss.
I turned my face away.
His frown deepened. He pulled me forcefully into his arms. "What? Still mad? I told you—I won't let her find out about you."
My eyes burned as I looked up at him. "So you expect me to be your dirty little secret for the rest of my life?"
Matthew froze. His thumb brushed my cheek, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "Don't make it sound so ugly, baby."