Just then, Hayden’s eyes shifted to me.


    His grip on my hand tightened, like for a second, he wasn’t just holding my hand–he had my heart


    too.


    You know how they say your fingers are connected to your heart? Yeah, right now, that felt way too


    real.


    “I’ll give Kiki everything I have,” Hayden said, his intense eyes locked on mine. “I’ll love her like I


    love my own life, and I’ll always protect her.”


    His eyes were full of affection. In that moment, I finally understood what people meant when they


    said, Love deep as the ocean.”


    And even though this was all supposed to be an act, it felt like Hayden’s words were reaching right


    into my chest, like he was actually confessing.


    This guy was unbelievable. Blurring the line between what’s real and what’s fake.


    With him saying stuff like that, I had no choice but to roll with it. I lifted my hand, nning to


    squeeze his


    But the way he was looking at me? It made me clench my teeth. I asked him to act, not toss real


    feelings into the mix.


    So, instead of giving him a sweet hand squeeze, I pinched his cheek.


    He was always so serious, I figured this would embarrass him. Maybe knock him down a peg.


    But, of course, Hayden didn’t react the way I thought. Nope. Instead of pulling back or flinching, he


    leaned into it. Literally pressed his cheek into my hand like a puppy wanting


    attention.


    Shameless! Completely shameless! I never thought he would ever act like this.


    After his little disy, Hayden turned back to Matthew and Lindey, his expression totallyposed.


    “And just like Mr. Johnston loves Mrs. Johnston, I’ll love Kiki for the rest of my life.”


    The first part had been this heartfelt confession, but the second? Yeah, that was a power move. A


    clear response to Lindey’s earlier challenge.


    I caught the slightest flicker of difort cross Lindey’s face. Hayden had shut her down so


    smoothly she didn’t have much of aeback.


    Matthew, who had been quiet this whole time, finally spoke up. “Rea, let Hayden and Lindey chat


    for a bit Come with me to the study.”


    He didn’t wait for my answer, just gave Hayden a quick nod before heading upstairs.


    I knew why Matthew wanted to talk. Steeling myself, I took a deep breath and followed him.


    When we got to the study, I expected him to start grilling me right away. But instead, he handed me


    the gift I’d brought him. “Why don’t you open this up? Use the new set you got me, and let’s do


    some hand Jettering together.”


    Lettering with Matthew? We hadn’t done that in years.


    L


    It had been at least three years since thest time. I remembered it all too well–it was right after


    Lindey had thrown out thisment: “Rea’s growing up. You should be careful about being alone


    with her in private spaces–people might talk.”


    Ever since then, Matthew stopped asking me to hang out in the study with him. We hadn’t had any


    of our usual one–on–one time in here since. If he needed to talk, it was always in the living room or


    outside in the garden–never in this space.


    So, him asking me toe back into the study today, like nothing had changed, felt kinda weird.


    But I didn’t say anything. I just did what he asked, opening up the ink and pens while he set out


    some fresh paper.


    As I put the ink down, he picked up one of the pens, checking it out. “This must’ve cost a fortune,”


    he said, shing a smile.


    “Good stuff doesn’te cheap,” I shot back with a grin.


    He chuckled softly. “Right. I’ll go first. You prep the ink, and once I’m done, it’ll be your turn.”


    It was just like it used to be. I nodded and began preparing the ink.


    Matthew took his time, sketching light outlines before filling in the strokes with practiced precision.


    Only after I’d set up everything did he begin writing.


    He wrote: “Even the faintest hint”


    The quote wasn’t finished, but I already knew the rest. It was his way of telling me he understood–


    he always did, just from watching. He probably knew what I was thinking better than I did.


    “Your turn,” Matthew said, handing me the pen.


    I stared at him, hesitating to take it.


    He looked at me with the same gentle expression he always had. “What’s the matter? Afraid you’ve


    forgotten how to write?”


    His eyes were kind, but the pressure I felt was unlike anything before.


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    I nodded. “It’s been a while.”