MATTEO’S POV
I pulled her into my arms, screaming and shouting for help, but no one came. My heart was racing, and my body trembling against hers. I carried her to Evelyn’s room, and she took her in and laid her on her bed.
“What happened to her?”. Evelyn asked in a rush.
I was too shocked to respond, only watching the scene unfold. I pushed my hair away from my face, and Evelyn turned to me me. Her green eyes digging holes into my face.
“What did you do to get?”. She asked, this time she was serious about it
“She ran and hurt her leg”. I said, panting and confused.
“What was she running from?”. Evelyn asked while checking her vitals.
“Me. She got scared of me, Evelyn”. I said, staring at Aria’s limp body. I sighed. “God!”. I pushed my hair back and paced the room. “I shouldn’t have done that”. I whispered.
“Done what?.” She asked
“Carter…”. I sighed heavily, and she pulled me to face her.
“What are you talking about?”. She asked, suddenly interested.
” I hit him”. I whispered, and her eyes widened.
“God! Is he okay?”. She asked, and I pulled away from her.
“I don’t know”. I said and moved to Aria. I laid next to her and held her hand in mine. Evelyn watched me, her face turning sour.
“You really care about her”. She said, but I ignored her. I looked at my wife’s beautiful face. It was alluring. She was so beautiful, I was lost in thought.
“Why’d you hit Carter, Matteo?”. She asked, and I tuned to her.
“He deserved whatever he got”. I said, and she stared at me, her eyes boring into my soul.
“And you?”. She asked, and I turned to get already furious.
“What do you mean?”. I asked
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean by that. You do know what I mean!”. She said, her grin wicked
“Where is it?”. I asked
Her words were like daggers piercing my heart, each syllable a blade that twisted and tore at my soul. “The letter? No, this isn’t about that,” she stated, a cold certainty in her voice that I could not ignore. “This is about you. You wanted me.” The blunt admission caused my world to spin, and I fought to maintain my composure. A hollow chuckle escaped my lips, the sound as sharp and empty as a rattling cough. I pinched the bridge of my nose as though the gesture could somehow silence the chaos raging within me.
“Now if you’d allow me. You’re badly hurt. She bit you pretty hard”. She said and began dressing the bite wound Aria gave me.
I spoke in a voice as dark and menacing as a whispered threat. “Do you really believe that I could ever love you?” My words dripped with disdain, and I watched as the subtle venom I injected with each syllable cut deep into her soul. Her eyes, a vivid green that had once danced with life, now betrayed her pain and anguish. Without averting my gaze, I continued, my voice like steel. “No one can replace Daya. No one.”
“You claim to love her so much but she didn’t love you enough cause he was fucking another man!”. She shouted and I watched as her gaze moved to Aria, her eyes transfixed on the figure that now stirred in the bed. Aria’s eyes fluttered open, their drowsy, languid movements transforming into a sudden sharpness as the realization of what she was witnessing dawned upon her. My skin turned ghostly pale, as though I had been struck by a sudden chill. In an instant, I spun on my heel and rushed out of the room, desperate to escape the stifling atmosphere.
The memory of that fateful night crashed against the shores of my consciousness, each detail sharp and vivid as though it had happened mere moments ago. She stood before me, a portrait of misery and sorrow, her face streaked with tears and her lips quivering as though she were on the verge of collapse. Her fingers clutched at my shirt. The sound of her voice, splintered and fragile, uttered words that shattered my world.
As I stalked the hallway, my steps halted by the sight of Alonzo dragging the beaten, bloodied form of Carter towards Evelyn’s room. The sheer brutality of the scene left me speechless, but I pressed on, my feet carrying me to the living room. There, I found Mrs. Fletcher, her hands busy with her knitting. Without a word, I collapsed onto the sofa beside her, my body aching with exhaustion, my mind reeling from the events of the night.
“Hungry son?”. She asked
“No, I-“. I stopped and tightened my eyes shut. “I’m a monster”. I said
“No, you’re not”. She said back in a firm voice
“Yes I am. I hurt everyone around me”.
“No you don’t”. She fought back.
There was a long silence, and then I turned to her
“I want to try to be better”. Her eyes widened at those words. “Better than I was with Daya”.
“Why?”. She asked, fearing my answer
“For Aria”. Mrs. Fletcher’s reaction was a silent testimony to her disapproval. I could see it in the hard lines that creased her features, the furrow of her brow, the slight tightening of her grip on her knitting. It was as if a chasm had opened up between us, my actions cleaving me from the woman I had come to regard as a mother.
“Why?”. She asked, watching my features
“She’s my wife. This is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”.
Her voice was like honey, sweet and gentle, yet her words stung like needles of truth. “With Daya, you were nothing but a pawn. It’s just a piece in a game, easily replaced. I don’t want you to make the same mistake again.” The love in her voice was palpable, her words a gift wrapped in velvet. “Daya broke your heart, and I can not bear to watch you suffer that pain again.”