To Slow a Treacherous Heart ✓

Epilogue| You Again

May wanted to kill someone.

He misses you.

He misses me?

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

And for God's sake why couldn't her life be normal?

Why couldn't she just have one of those story book lives where she could find an effing Prince Charming and live happily ever after?

She sighed.

Of course, her life had to be filled with misery, pain, and a giant upheavel of feelings on a daily basis.

"Hey, you alright?" Mathew asked, nudging her.

After that horrible five minutes she'd excused herself to the bathroom under the pretense of touching up her makeup. She'd composed herself in their five minutes.

Then, Mathew had suggested a walk down the pier.

So herecthey were, walking along the Lochlan pier, watching the sun dip into the horizon as the seagulls let out happy noises of appreciation.

It should have been romantic.

It should have been bloody perfect.

Instead, here she was thinking of that sorry excuse for a human being.

She looked at Mathew and shook her head, mostly to clear her head of her vicious thoughts but also to reply to his question.

"Sorry, just lost in thought."

Mathew gave her a dry laugh. "Pretty gruesome thinking, love. You look like you're about to shout 'off with his head' into the sunset,"

May laughed. "No, no. Nothing like that."

Mathew stopped walking. "So, you think June was right to set us up?"

May stopped as well. His eyes were bluer than the sky. His skin was milky white and his dark blonde hair was probably softer than whipped cream. A part of his lower lip was under his upper teeth. Angels were probably singing in heaven.

Too bad your heart isn't.

She shut an iron doot on that voice. The bang echoed in her thoughtless mind.

"I don't know." She started. Then she smiled shyly. "But I kind of hope so," she said.

He gave her a cheeky grin. "Alright, then. I've been give then green light for date number two,"

She formed a look of mock seriousness. "The second date is so very important," she said, in a mock British accent.

"Are you teasing me, love?" He asked, stepping closer.

May gave him a mischievous smirk. "Maybe I am," she whispered, moving closer too.

Maybe if she—

"May!"

Her entire body went cold. A streak of pure ice trickled down her spine. She took a deep breath, but before she could step away an arm came around her waist.

It was Mathew's.

She turned in his arms.

Ryan stood, almost five feet away from them, his ghostly eyes glued to those arms around her.

Then they slowly, very, very, slowly moved up towards her face.

Every spot they touched lit up. Mathews arms felt wrong around her. Her heart said no, but her brain refused to budge.