A BRIDE IN BETWEEN

Chapter5

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Husband duties

Allison's fingers, cold and clammy, tightened around the flimsy Styrofoam cup, a stark contrast to the lukewarm water it held.

Mathew's presence, a towering silhouette against the sterile airport lighting, offered a semblance of comfort, though her body remained a battleground of trembling nerves. The threat of hyperventilation loomed, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil that gripped her. They were trapped in the limbo of the departure lounge, the imminent call to board a mere formality, a distant echo in the cacophony of her thoughts.

Lexie's theatrical departure, a climactic exit after their heated exchange, had left Allison to navigate the wreckage. It wasn't Mathew's potential reaction that consumed her, but the inevitable confrontation between Lexie and Parker.

The thought of Parker learning the truth through Lexie's dramatic retelling filled her with dread. She had intended to tell him, to explain the tangled web of circumstances, but the timing, the method, had to be right. She couldn't bear the image of his face, the flicker of betrayal and pain, and her instinct was to shield him, to absorb the emotional blow herself.

Mathew settled beside her, an awkward maneuver that created a deliberate space between them. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words, a palpable tension that crackled in the air. Allison could sense the whirlwind of thoughts swirling within him, the unanswered questions, the unspoken accusations. With anyone else, she would have demanded clarity, forced the issue. But with Mathew, a strange sense of restraint held her back, a feeling that she was perpetually walking on eggshells. She had always seen him as the embodiment of her sister's future, a figure of stability and respect, and the ingrained shyness and awkwardness remained, a barrier she couldn't seem to breach.

"You were…involved with someone else when we got married?" Mathew's voice, barely a whisper, broke the silence, the question hanging in the air like a fragile ornament.

Allison nodded, a slight, almost imperceptible movement, her throat tightening with a wave of guilt and shame. This was the moment of truth, the point of no return. She wondered if the revelation would shatter the fragile facade of their forced marriage, if it would finally expose the raw, unhealed wounds beneath. Perhaps, knowing that he wasn't alone in experiencing loss and betrayal, he might find a way to bridge the chasm between them.

"Does he know…about us?" Mathew asked, his voice strained.

Allison shook her head, the movement more pronounced this time.

"I haven't told him. I couldn't bring myself to do it," she confessed, her voice barely audible, the admission a weight on her conscience.

"Is that why you broke your phone? You never intended to tell him, did you?" Mathew's voice held a note of dawning comprehension, a hint of accusation.

Allison groaned inwardly. Why this sudden, intrusive interest in her personal life? She had preferred the cold indifference, the silent treatment.

"Allison…" Mathew sighed, his hand gripping his forehead, his posture conveying a sense of weary resignation.

"You don't do that to people," he said, his voice heavy with disappointment, his head falling to his knees. She understood his meaning. Her silence, her deception, was an act of cowardice, a betrayal of trust. But in her mind, it was a necessary evil, a desperate attempt to protect the man she loved from the harsh reality of their situation.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize there was a proper etiquette for informing your boyfriend that you married someone else," she retorted, her voice laced with a bitter sarcasm she didn't intend.

The Mathew she knew, the man of rigid principles and unwavering composure, would have countered with a scathing remark, a sharp reprimand. But he remained silent, his head bowed, his body language conveying a sense of profound weariness. Allison was grateful for the reprieve. Her mind was a chaotic whirlwind of conflicting emotions, and she feared saying or doing something she would later regret. Their relationship, already fractured and strained, was teetering on the edge of collapse, and she didn't want to hasten its demise.

"Did you love him?" Mathew asked after a long, pregnant pause, his voice barely above a whisper.

Allison hesitated, then decided that honesty, however painful, was the only option.

"More than you can imagine," she confessed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. But a nagging doubt lingered. Mathew had used the past tense, as if her feelings were a relic of the past, a faded memory. She still loved Parker, with an intensity that defied logic and reason, and she believed that love would endure, regardless of the circumstances.

Mathew sighed, a long, drawn-out exhalation of breath, and simultaneously, the boarding announcement echoed through the terminal, a jarring intrusion into their private drama. Allison gathered her belongings, her movements mechanical, and joined the growing queue, eager to escape the suffocating tension. She couldn't believe the surreal nature of their conversation. She was discussing her love life, her deepest emotions, with the man she was legally bound to, a stranger she barely knew. It was a bizarre, unsettling twist of fate.

A man, his gait unsteady, his eyes glazed, positioned himself between Allison and Mathew, creating a physical barrier that amplified the emotional distance. Allison retrieved her travel documents, her hands trembling, her fingers fumbling until the papers slipped from her grasp, scattering across the floor. The man behind her, reeking of alcohol, retrieved the documents, his fingers lingering on hers, his touch sending a shiver of revulsion down her spine. His forced grin, his leering eyes, sent a wave of panic through her.

"What, no thank you?" he slurred, his voice thick with alcohol, his eyes fixed on her. Allison recoiled, her body instinctively moving away from him. She found herself trapped, sandwiched between the drunken man and a woman who glared at her with undisguised contempt, muttering insults under her breath.

The man persisted, his movements predatory, his eyes tracing the contours of her body.

"You know, you look mighty fine, and that…"

His hand trailed down her back, his touch invasive, his words a violation. Allison whimpered, a small, involuntary sound of fear and disgust. She closed her eyes, wishing she could disappear, wishing for a rescuer.

A sharp, resounding thud echoed through the queue, snapping her eyes open. Mathew had punched the drunken man, the force of the blow sending him crashing to the floor, blood trickling from his nose. Mathew stood over him, his posture radiating a primal rage, his foot pressed against the man's stomach. Allison's eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Touch her again, and you'll beg me to kill you," Mathew growled, his voice a low, menacing growl, his eyes blazing with fury.

The drunken man, his bravado shattered, nodded frantically, his fear palpable.

Allison rushed to Mathew's side, her body trembling, her eyes fixed on his bruised knuckles.

"Are you alright?" Mathew asked, his voice softening, his attention focused solely on her.

Allison nodded, unable to speak, her gaze fixed on the bruises marring his hand. Security personnel arrived, their movements swift and efficient, removing the drunken man without questioning Mathew. They recognized him, knew his name, understood the unspoken power he wielded.

Allison gently took Mathew's hand, her fingers tracing the contours of his bruised knuckles, her touch tentative.

"You didn't have to do that," she whispered, her voice barely audible, her eyes avoiding his.

He withdrew his hand, his expression unreadable, and returned to the queue, his posture rigid. Allison followed, her body drawn to his like a moth to a flame. She wanted to cling to him, to seek the safety of his embrace, but the unspoken rules of their forced marriage held her back.

"I may not be the love of your life, Allison, but it's still my duty to protect you, whether you like it or not," he said, his voice low and firm.

Hearing his words, Allison felt a surge of conflicting emotions. A sense of safety, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time, washed over her. But a nagging doubt lingered. Could he protect her from himself, from the complexities of their situation? Could he shield her from the inevitable pain of their forced union? Or would he, ultimately, become the source of her deepest wounds?