Immediately the door opened,I knew there would be a problem .
Rebecca. Again.
A familiar frustration welled up. The last time, I'd made myself clear: she was gone, out of my life. And yet, here she was, poised in the doorway of my penthouse, as if she'd never left.
Her smile, that practiced, flawless smile, didn't quite reach her eyes, and the walls I'd built inside me began to close in.
I knew her game. She had a knack for it, showing up just when I thought I could finally relax, and then she'd start in, picking at old wounds, dredging up things I'd tried to forget.
"Matthew," she said, her voice smooth, almost sickly sweet. "We need to talk."
I didn't budge, just looked at her. She didn't belong here. She never had.
Not anymore.
"Rebecca," I said, my voice cutting through the air. "You're not welcome."
She arched an eyebrow, breezing past me without so much as a pause. "Not even a 'come in'?" She surveyed the room, her gaze lingering on everything, as if she were the one making the rules. "I thought you cared about how things looked, Matthew. This isn't a good look. For either of us."
I gritted my teeth, fighting to stay calm. "I told you, I'm finished. I'm not playing this game anymore."
But she wasn't hearing me. She never did.
Rebecca had a knack for getting under my skin, sowing uncertainty, just like she always did. I wanted to slam the door, tell her to go, but I was frozen. I couldn't stop her. And I knew exactly why.
She knew how to get to me. She always had. She understood my vulnerabilities, my anxieties—how to make me doubt everything, even my own judgment.
"I can't believe you're just going to throw this all away." Her voice dipped, a gentle nudge, as if she were trying to draw me back in. "You and I... we had something real, Matthew. You know that. You know I'm the only one who truly understands you. We understand each other."
I shut my eyes, the heaviness of her words settling like a stone.
I despised the hold she had on me. How, even now, I let her have that power. Her voice was like a fresh cut, a reminder of a wound that never quite closed. Each syllable was a prompt, a call to remember the things I'd rather forget.
But forgetting wasn't an option. Not with her here, luring me back into the easy embrace of the known.
I opened my eyes, fists clenched at my sides. "That was ages ago, Rebecca. It's done. You don't get to waltz back in and expect everything to be the same."
She cocked her head, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "Oh, Matthew. Always so prickly." She moved closer, her heels echoing on the marble.
"You're not fooling anyone. I can see it in your eyes. You're still in love with me."
I froze, my body giving me away with the tiniest of tells. A fleeting pause. A subtle change in my posture. But that was all she needed.
"Admit it, Matthew," she murmured, her voice a caress against my ear. "You want me. You've always wanted me."
I took a step back, shaking my head, the tide of feelings threatening to overwhelm me. "No," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "This isn't about you. This is about me taking control of my life."
"I'm finished with this. Finished with you."
Rebecca's smile was a triumph. She moved closer, her face a breath away from mine. "You think you're the one calling the shots, but you know the score, don't you? You're terrified. Terrified of what you feel for her."
Her words landed hard. I didn't want to concede it, but she was spot-on.
I turned away, my heart racing. "This isn't about Esther," I mumbled, even though I knew it was. It was about everything I'd hidden. Everything I'd refused to acknowledge. And now, Rebecca was pulling it all back into the light.
I couldn't handle this. Not again. But the harm was already done. The walls were beginning to show their age, and I had no idea how to mend them.
Rebecca was relentless. She observed me, a smug expression on her face, as if she reveled in her handiwork. I could feel her eyes, a searing presence on my back, probing, waiting for me to crumble.
"Why are you really here, Rebecca?" I demanded, my voice strained with anger. "You're not welcome in my life anymore."
She hesitated, then offered a nonchalant shrug. "I'm here because you need me, Matthew. You always will."
I forced myself to swallow.
I wanted to scream at her to go, to vanish and stay gone. Yet, her very being, her voice, made me doubt everything I thought I knew about myself, this agreement, about the illusion of control I'd constructed.
I was frozen. Breathless. The past's relentless hold tightened around me, a vise that wouldn't let go.
Rebecca moved closer, glancing out the window. "You're not the man you used to be, Matthew."
You've shifted, but the core of you remains. You still have a heart. And that's precisely why you'll be needing me."
Her voice hung in the air, a tangible thing. I fought against it, but the words took root, widening the fissures in my carefully constructed defenses. I wanted to order her away. I wanted to deny every syllable, but the words wouldn't come.
I couldn't bring myself to cut her loose, and she understood that.
I balled my hands into fists. "Leave."
She didn't budge, though. Instead, she fixed me with a look that was almost a smirk.
"I'll be back, Matthew," she said, her voice now a chilling edge. "And when I am, you'll understand. You can't escape your history indefinitely."
Before I could even think of a reply, she spun on her heel and strode out, leaving me alone, still reeling. The room felt instantly colder, emptier, the walls seeming to close in with every heartbeat.
I knew what she'd done. I knew the threat she represented. And yet, the hardest truth to swallow was that she wasn't wrong.
I cared.
But that care, that vulnerability—it was a luxury I couldn't afford to display. Not now. Not with Esther. Not with anyone.
I had to maintain the facade. I had to keep my distance.
I turned to face the empty room, Rebecca's words settling over me like a shroud. And then I saw her_Esther, framed in the doorway, her face ashen, her eyes wide with an emotion I couldn't place. She'd heard everything.