The guy from the bar

Eighty Nine

Madison's POV

I woke up to a series of soft kisses planted on my face, which made me smile even before I opened my eyes. As I finally did, I found my handsome husband showering me with affection, his warm presence filling the room.

I've spent two days with him here now, the first day we had a romantic dinner date and after that we drive around as he showed me some of his favorite spots. Yesterday was a dream, he took me to Venice, which I've never been to before.

Giggling, I wrapped my arms around him. "Hi, baby," I greeted, my voice still laced with sleepiness.

"Good morning, beautiful," he replied, trailing kisses down my neck.

Having spent a week in Italy, each moment felt like a dream. I leaned back, savoring the sensation of his lips on my skin, completely lost in the moment.

Suddenly, a notification interrupted our intimate morning, pulling us back to reality. It was a text from Neels, a surprising occurrence considering our recent lack of communication. Curiosity piqued, I opened the message to find a link.

"Jason," I called out, reading the headline aloud.

"Jason Mccann's body disappears," he echoed, seemingly unfazed.

Despite my growing concern, Jason remained nonchalant, dismissing the news as irrelevant. However, my paranoia resurfaced, fueled by memories of the detective's visit to our penthouse before our trip.

"Mads, why are you reading this?" Jason questioned, oblivious to my unease.

"Jason, if they've discovered you're gone, they could easily track you down again,"

Confident in our safety, Jason reassured me that we had nothing to fear. "Baby, we're safe." "You need to trust me."

"Jase, we might be safe here, but what about when we get back home?" "Are you going to stay hidden forever?"

He froze as he looked at me, his mouth parted, as if there was something he wanted to say but he wasn't sure if he should.

"Mads..." he said, staring at the white sheets of the soft bed, looking as if he didn't know how to say whatever it was he wanted to tell me. "I'm not going back."

I laid and stared at him, confused.

"What do you mean you're not going back?" I asked, my heart sinking.

"Baby, I... I wish I could," he shook his head, "but like you said, it's not good for me right now. I have to stay here."

I stayed in the same position, not moving a muscle, as I stared at him dumbfounded. There were so many things I wanted to say to him that I didn't even know where to start. Is this what he came back for? Is this why he insisted so much on getting me back? To leave again?

I got up from the bed and angrily stomped away from him.

"Mads..." he called, but I ignored him and continued marching into the bathroom.

I was aware that things would be difficult if he came back, especially after the detective's visit and the now discovery of his body's absence from the morgue. It made it hard to argue with him because it was true. At the end of the day, no matter how he acts, his name, to the rest of the world, is a threat. He's Jason McCann...

I sighed as I tried to relax, and miserably failed, and began my morning routine.

"Mads," he walked into the bathroom, "I'm really sorry. I wish things weren't like this."

"It's fine," I said, squeezing out some product from my face wash container, not looking up at him. "At least I'm here..."

"Mads, don't be mad at me," he insisted.