Chapter 6

Matthew didn't seem to expect me to suddenly bring up his best friend Justin. He tilted his head and glanced at me, "Why?"

"Tell him your ring has been found, it's not lost." My tone was calm, as if talking about the most ordinary little thing. "And also tell him Katherine is back. Let's all get together sometime."

Matthew's fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel.

I continued, looking ahead, "Although Katherine was married before, she's divorced now, and she has a daughter. It must be pretty tough for her."

"Justin has been single all this time, no girlfriend, right? I think they're about the right age, and they know each other well. We could let them meet and see how it goes. What do you think?"

Before I could finish speaking.

A sharp screech of brakes - the tires scraped against the ground with a piercing sound.

The huge force threw me forward, then the seatbelt yanked me back hard into the seat.

My heart was pounding wildly in my chest.

Matthew had suddenly pulled the car over to the side of the road.

He unbuckled his seatbelt, turned around, and looked at me heavily.

Those eyes that usually held a gentle smile were now churning with intense emotions I couldn't read - like anger, or something else, frighteningly dark.

The pressure inside the car dropped to rock bottom.

"No!" He spat out the word, his voice not loud but with absolute firmness, even a hint of barely detectable tension.

I was a bit dazed by his sudden intense reaction and the sharp braking, and instinctively asked, "What do you mean no?"

I couldn't finish my sentence.

Because Matthew suddenly pressed toward me without warning.

He braced one hand on the car window beside me, the other gripped my chin, not gently.

Then, with an almost fierce force, he kissed my lips.

This kiss was urgent and rough, with no tenderness at all. Rather than a kiss, it was more like an explosion and declaration of suppressed emotions.

His breath instantly enveloped me, with an undeniable aggression, prying open my teeth, plundering at will.

I was trapped between the seat and his chest, unable to move, could only passively endure this kiss full of punishment and possession, my mind completely blank.

Outside the window, cars occasionally passed by, their lights flashing briefly.

Inside the car, only our heavy and chaotic breathing remained.

The pink diamond ring on my finger was pressing painfully into my skin.

Matthew held the back of my head with one hand, the other pressed the seat adjustment button.

The backrest suddenly reclined, and before I could react, he pressed down again.

His kiss was urgent and fierce, with an almost domineering force, giving me no chance to respond.

I instinctively raised my hands to push him away, but he caught my wrists and pinned them at my sides.

His body was hot, his breath burning, falling on my neck, collarbone, with a kind of out-of-control urgency.

"Matthew, what are you doing? We're on the side of the road."

I turned my head to dodge, my voice broken and intermittent.

He didn't speak, just kissed harder.

My lips were numb from his biting, with a dull ache.

His hand slipped under my clothes, his palm burning hot.

I suddenly remembered this afternoon in the break room, he was just as urgent then.

At that time, I thought he was just driven by desire.

But now, the car was parked on the roadside, sunlight streaming through the windows, people passing by outside.

He never acted like this in public.

He wasn't this kind of reckless person.

Unless, he was panicking.

I suddenly stopped moving.

I let him kiss me, let his hands roam over my body, let him pour all his urgency and panic onto me.

I just kept my eyes open, staring at the car ceiling.

After a long time, he finally seemed to notice something was wrong.

He stopped and looked up at me.

Our eyes met. His eyes still held traces of desire, but more of an indescribable emotion.

Panic? Guilt? Or something else?

I couldn't tell.

After four years of marriage, I seemed to have never really understood him.

"What's wrong?" His voice was hoarse, breathless.

I looked into his eyes and asked, word by word,

"Matthew, what are you afraid of?"

Matthew couldn't answer. He could only silence me with another kiss, this time urgent and fierce, as if trying to swallow me whole.

The air in my lungs was completely taken away, my lips stinging slightly. "Let go!"

Broken syllables escaped through my teeth.

Panic mixed with a sense of violated anger, I raised my hand and slapped him with all my strength.

The crisp sound of the slap echoed in the enclosed car, not too hard, but clear enough.

The sound was like pressing a pause button.

Matthew's movements suddenly froze. He lifted his head and released his grip on me.

In the dim light inside the car, his cheek was slightly flushed, the frenzy and aggression in his eyes not yet completely faded, mixed with a trace of shock.

I was breathing rapidly, fresh air rushing into my chest, causing a fit of coughing.

Matthew froze completely.

He propped himself up, staring at me blankly, a clear handprint slowly appearing on his face.

I gasped for air, my eyes burning, something uncontrollable surging out.

Not just because of the suffocation, but because all the grievance, anger, and unease accumulated throughout the day finally found an outlet.

I looked at him, tears welling up in my eyes, my voice choked with accusation, "You hurt me, Matthew."

He seemed awakened by these words, the madness in his eyes quickly receding, replaced by overwhelming panic and regret.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He pulled me into his arms, his grip so tight I could almost feel his heart beating violently in his chest.

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to, I just—"

His voice was muffled against my shoulder, carrying unprecedented fear.

"I was just afraid you'd be angry, afraid you'd misunderstand, afraid you'd—"

He didn't finish, just held me tighter.

I didn't move, didn't speak.

Outside the window, a traffic cop roared past on a motorcycle, someone waiting at a red light occasionally glanced this way.

I just let him hold me, tears still wet on my face.

After a long time, he slowly let go.

He looked at me, his eyes a bit red, the handprint on his face even redder.

"I shouldn't have let Katherine wear that ring."

He brought up the ring on his own.

My body stiffened slightly, but I didn't move, listening to him continue.

"She just got back last night, in a terrible state. She lost the divorce case, got almost nothing, and was crying in front of me with her daughter, nearly breaking down. I just wanted to comfort her."

Matthew's voice was low, carrying a heavy helplessness. "She said seeing that ring was beautiful, that trying it on might cheer her up a bit. I softened for a moment and let her wear it."

"I really just meant for her to wear it temporarily, planned to get it back in a couple of days. I never expected someone would photograph it, never expected you'd see it, never expected it would make you so upset."

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't think it through. It was my fault."

He finished speaking, looked up at me, his eyes carrying a cautious plea.

I was stunned.

I didn't expect him to admit his mistake so quickly.

I thought he would keep making excuses, keep lying, keep using those flimsy lies to paper over the cracks.

But he admitted it directly.

I looked at him, something in my heart violently pulling in different directions.

On one side was anger, grievance, the coldness of being deceived for a whole day and night.

On the other side was his honesty, the panic in his eyes at this moment.

I wanted to ask him, will you lie to me again? For her, will you lie to me again?

But these words circled on my tongue and ultimately went unspoken.

So I chose not to ask.

Mainly because I lacked the courage to ask.

I was afraid of hearing any uncertain answer, afraid of tearing away that seemingly calm facade.

I craved the warmth of his embrace and the apology in his words at this moment, even if this might just be another layer of disguise.