"Well, there's no way I'm sleeping in this bed again until the sheets have been changed," he declared, "so I'll spend the night at the condo. And stay the hell away from me from now on, Linz. Not only don't I want you in my bed, I don't want you in my life, either."
Matthew was out of his room and down the stairs in a flash, and within minutes he was behind the wheel of the Tesla. He drove much faster than usual, given that it was a crystal clear summer night with practically no other cars on the road, and that he was struggling to keep his rage under control. He was furious with Lindsey, furious with himself, furious with the world. It had been scarcely a month since he'd moved back to Hillsborough, but sometimes it felt like a year.
He made it to the condo in near record time, barely acknowledging the concierge as he strode briskly to the bank of elevators. Fortunately he hadn't moved all of his things out of the condo, and still had plenty of clothing, toiletries, and non-perishable food on hand.
He hadn't been inside the condo since that awful day last month when he'd watched Sasha walk out the front door, taking his heart along with her. And as he stood just inside the foyer he could still see her tear-stained face, could still hear her soft voice as she sadly bid him good-by, and his heart ached anew at the recollection.
He dropped his laptop case on the sofa, then impulsively pulled out his phone and pressed speed dial for the number he had yet to delete. It rang several times, and since he knew his name would appear on the caller ID on the other end, he doubted whether the call would even be answered.
But he was startled when Sasha accepted his call, her melodious voice merely saying his name in greeting.
"Matthew."
He recalled that she was one of the very few people who called him by his full name, nearly everyone else using the diminutive of Matt. And no one had ever said his name quite like she did, making it sound somehow like a caress.
"Sasha." He closed his eyes for a few seconds, sending up a silent prayer that she was actually talking to him. "God, Sasha. It's so damned good to hear your voice, sweetheart. And I know I promised I wouldn't call, wouldn't get in touch with you, but I - I just needed to hear the sound of your beautiful voice. Just this once."
There was silence on the other end before she gently rebuked him. "You shouldn't be calling, Matthew. You know this isn't right."
"Bullshit." He knew he had probably shocked her with his passionate declaration. "Being with you, talking to you, is practically the only right thing I've known for the last year. These last weeks have been total hell, sweetheart, complete torture. I miss you so much, need you so much. I - I'm at the condo right now, long story, but Lindsey pissed me off big time and I just couldn't stay at the house tonight."
"I see." She paused again before asking. "Was there a reason for your call, or did you just need to vent?"
He sighed, the slight edge in her voice noticeable even though she seemed as polite as ever. "I didn't plan to call you," he admitted. "Not that I don't fight off the urge every single day. It was just - this was the first time I've been back here since that day. And, well, all I can think about, all I can see, is the way you looked when you left that afternoon. It's the same image that's been haunting my dreams every night."
"It hasn't exactly been easy for me, either, you know," she replied. "And having you call like this out of the blue isn't making it any better."
"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I know I don't have any right to call you, to use you as a sounding board. I just miss you so damned much, Sasha. My whole life has gone to hell since that day you left. And while I know I shouldn't be contacting you this way, I just don't give a damn tonight. I want more than anything for things to go back the way they were, to be with you again. And I know that my daughter needs me right now, but I need you just as badly. Will you - that is, if I came to pick you up, or sent a car for you, would you be willing to come over for a little while? Just to talk, have a cup of tea. Please?"
"Matthew. You know I can't," she chastised him quietly. "So long as you're living in the same house with Lindsey, I just - can't. So please don't ask that of me. And please - don't call me again. I do love you, Matthew, but nothing has changed. I have to protect myself from getting hurt, and seeing you, even for something as innocent as a cup of tea, would just break my heart all over again."
He pressed a fist against his forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. "Okay," he whispered. "I'll abide by your wishes and won't call you again. But I won't stop thinking about you, Sasha, or loving you. Or wishing that I wake up tomorrow morning and find this has all been one long nightmare."