The Fence Between Us

Episode 16

I hurried after her. When I arrived, Mathis was standing beside a sunken patch of earth. He turned to me.

— “Do you see how slowly the water’s draining? I need someone to help me steady the pipe while I temporarily remove the rocks blocking it.”

I nodded without hesitation.

I waded through the mud. Mathis had already extended his hand.

Without a word, I placed mine into his.

A firm grip.

Together, we moved the stones, clearing a path for the water to flow. My hands were covered in mud, and a patch of my shirt was soaked. But as the water began to flow more steadily, I looked up and caught Mathis gazing at me—as if he had something on his mind.

— “You're really good at this,” he said softly.

I laughed between breaths.

— “So are you.”

Mathis smiled—a warm, genuine smile.

I quickly turned my face away.

He didn’t ask anything more. Instead, he said quietly:

— “Honestly, I didn’t expect us to work this well together.”

— “Neither did I,” I replied with a soft laugh. “But… maybe working side by side isn’t as hard as I thought.”

We stood there for a moment, watching the water rush through. Then we turned back toward the village. The droplets sparkled in the sunlight. A breeze brushed past us, cool and light.

No more words were exchanged.

But the memory of that held hand… still lingered, warm and clear.

When we returned to the main area, a few locals were already waiting to express their thanks. An elderly man with sun-darkened skin stepped forward, shook Mathis's hand, and then turned to me:

— “Thank you so much, kids. Without you, my family would’ve had to evacuate.”

I bowed slightly, smiling.

— “I only did a small part, sir.”

Mathis stood quietly beside me, giving a small nod. The sea breeze blew again, lifting a few strands of hair across my forehead. Instinctively, I reached up to tuck them away, but one stubborn lock clung to my cheek.

Mathis turned to me, and — without hesitation — gently brushed it aside. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a wave of warmth rushing through me.

— “Thanks…” I murmured, my voice so soft I wasn’t even sure he heard it.

He pulled his hand back, eyes drifting toward the distant coconut trees.

— “No problem.”

Another silence settled between us. But this time, it wasn’t awkward — it was soft, like the gentle sunlight of early spring.

I glanced sideways at him, sensing something within me shifting. It wasn’t the shy affection I’d carried eight years ago, nor was it just gratitude for a kind act. It was something deeper, more grounded. Not because he had walked me home through the rain. Not because he had held my hand through the mud. But because… I was finally beginning to see a side of Mathis I’d never known.

A Mathis who wasn’t so distant anymore. A Mathis who was quietly stepping toward me.

I spoke, my voice barely above a whisper:

— “Do you… remember what I said that night?”

Mathis turned to me, brow slightly furrowed.

— “That night?”

— “The one when I… had a bit too much wine.”

He paused, then smiled — half teasing, half tender.

— “You mean the night you got all clingy with me?”

I quickly turned away, face burning.

— “I didn’t mean to bring that up!”

— “But you just did.”

I had no comeback for that.

Mathis chuckled softly. But instead of teasing further, his tone turned gentle:

— “I remember. Very clearly, actually.”

I looked down, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.

— “At the time… I—”

He didn’t let me finish. He simply looked at me, quietly, for a long moment… then gave a small nod.

— “It’s okay. I understand.”

We stood there for a while, beneath the shade of the trees, surrounded by the rustling of dry leaves and the distant laughter of children echoing from the schoolyard.

Maybe I’d never have the courage to ask — if he felt the same way I did. But for now… in this quiet moment, we were close.

And maybe that was enough — for a heart that had waited silently for eight long years.

Just when I thought the moment would pass quietly, a soft breeze rustled the treetops. From the distant shoreline came the sound of gentle waves. Mathis turned toward it, then looked back at me.

— “You know… I used to think I didn’t belong in a peaceful place like this.”

— “What kind of peace?” I asked softly.

— “The kind where everything slows down. No explosions, no one shouting orders, no countdowns. Just… stillness.”

I looked at him — not as a soldier in uniform, but as the man behind the hardened shell. And I realized, his eyes held a different kind of weariness. Not from physical exhaustion, but from carrying too much, for too long.

— “Do you hate this kind of peace?” I asked.

He gently shook his head.

— “No. But now… I think I like it.”

Mathis took a quiet breath and continued:

— “Back in school, I didn’t pay much attention to the world around me. I just focused on studying, hoping to succeed. As for feelings…”

He trailed off. I didn’t press. Some things don’t need to be said to be fully understood.

— “But now… I notice.”

— “Notice what?” I asked.

Mathis looked at me, eyes tender.

Before he could answer, footsteps sounded behind us. Grande was waving at me from afar, calling for help to carry some supplies.

I turned to Mathis.

— “Duty calls.”

He smiled:

— “Let’s continue this conversation later, okay?”

I nodded, stepping back, walking away as I replied:

— “Don’t forget what you just said.”

— “I won’t,” he said.