In the spotlight

48

Sofia Christensen

My heart fluttered with joy and relief as Matteo pulled me into a hug. His embrace was steady, grounding, and exactly what I had longed for. Yet beneath the warmth, a faint tension lingered—the kind that surfaces when the past still casts its shadow over the present.

"So, how was training?" I asked, my voice light in an attempt to smooth over the unease. Matteo chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest.

"Exhausting, as always," he said, arms still around me. "But you showing up here? That makes it all worth it."

I smiled, the tension easing a little. But it wasn't gone entirely.

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything important," I said, stepping back slightly but keeping my hand in his.

He shook his head. "Not even close. This is the best surprise I've had in a long time." He squeezed my hand gently. "Do you want to go somewhere? Or are you tired from the trip?"

I glanced around the garage, the quiet hum of the space making our conversation feel louder. "I'm not tired. Let's go wherever you want. I'm all yours." The words came out playful, but my chest tightened. This damned anxiety wouldn't let me rest.

Matteo grinned and led me toward his car. He opened the door for me with a practiced ease that made my heart flip. As he loaded my suitcase into the trunk, I couldn't help stealing glances at him. His hair fell messily over his forehead, and there was a softness in his expression—a look I'd missed more than I cared to admit.

When he slid into the driver's seat beside me, he glanced over, his emerald eyes catching mine.

"Ready?" he asked with a smile.

I nodded, trying to shake off the knot forming in my stomach. As we pulled out of the garage and into the streets of Madrid, I watched the city pass by through the window, the sun dipping low on the horizon. The setting was perfect—too perfect. The thought of what happened last time when everything was this perfect didn't sit right with me.

Matteo's hand rested on my thigh, his thumb brushing absent circles through the fabric of my pants. The touch was gentle, comforting. But instead of calming me, it only made my thoughts spiral further.

"Hey," Matteo said softly, pulling me from my thoughts. His voice was careful, measured. "You okay?"

I glanced over at him, startled by the concern in his eyes.

"Yeah, of course. I'm fine," I said too quickly, forcing a smile.

Matteo didn't buy it. His gaze flicked between me and the road, his hand steady on my leg.

"You sure? You seemed a little lost for a second there."

I exhaled, leaning back in my seat. I didn't want to ruin this moment—didn't want to bring up something that felt too heavy. But Matteo had always been good at reading me, and it was clear he wasn't going to drop it.

"This whole situation is just... way too familiar" I admitted quietly, staring outside the window.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and uncomfortable. Matteo shifted in his seat, running a hand through his hair.

"You know that," he said finally, his voice low. "I was an idiot. That night... it scared me. I wasn't ready to face you after that."

I looked up, his words catching me off guard. He'd always been good at deflecting with humor, but now his honesty left me speechless.

"So you ran?" I asked, my tone more teasing than accusatory.

Matteo chuckled, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "Yeah, basically. Not my proudest moment."