Matthew stepped around the corner, his stride casual at first, until his eyes caught the tension ahead. I stood toe‑to‑toe with Travis, our faces inches apart, the air between us molten. Passing students slowed, staring, but no one dared speak. The silence was heavy, broken only by the sound of Travis's knuckles flexing, white and trembling with rage.
Matthew froze. His chest tightened, his jaw locked. He told himself to do the same as the others—just keep walking, don't react. He turned away, forcing his feet in the opposite direction. But the image burned in his mind: my father that night, fists flying, my body crumpled under blows that nearly took my life. He remembered stepping in, remembered the ache in his chest when he realized what could have happened if he hadn't.
Now, watching Travis's fist twitch, the same ache tore through him. What if I don't intervene? What if it turns into something I could have stopped? His heart thudded painfully, his breath shallow.
"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath, voice heavy with conflict. His shoulders sagged, his chest tight with dread. He halted mid‑step, exhaling hard, the decision clawing at him.
Then he turned back. His eyes locked on me, my face cold, unyielding, and Travis looming over me like a hurricane ready to break. Matthew's pulse hammered, but his stride was steady as he walked toward us, each step heavier than the last.
The crowd parted slightly, sensing the shift that Matthew's presence carried , his expression emotionless,. He wasn't sure what he'd say, but he knew one thing—he couldn't walk away. Not this time.
Once close, he stepped right between us, forcing his body into a space that had no room. My eyes widened when I saw him, my mouth parted to speak, but he wasn't having it—not today. His hands gripped my shoulders, pushing me back, forcing my steps to retreat. Travis, shocked at first, quickly composed himself, grabbing Matthew's shoulder and swinging him around so suddenly he almost lost his balance.
"Who the fuck are you?" Travis yelled venomously, stepping forward. Matthew caught himself, blocking his path, eyes cold.
"Back off or I swear to God I'll punch you in the throat," Matthew threatened.
"What? Is she your little girlfriend? Get the hell out of my face and mind your own business," Travis spat, poking at his chest. Matthew brushed his hand away and smirked.
"Matthew, I don't need your protection," I snapped, pulling at him, but he only flashed me off roughly, turning back to Travis. And in that moment, I knew—I was tired of people rescuing me. Fabian, then Renae, now Matthew. Maybe Travis was right. Maybe I was a mistake never meant for this world.
"Matthew!" I screamed, tears spilling. "I can fight my own battles!" My voice cracked as the tears poured out. He turned from Travis, his face softening, while students stood frozen, watching the scene unfold like a movie. Travis's face was blank.
"Wow… I almost believed those tears were real," Travis suddenly spoke, clapping. "I almost felt sorry for you."
Frozen in my tracks, this felt bigger than Kevon. My fists clenched, ready to throw, not caring about the consequences. If he wanted to see me as a monster, then I would be one. But before I could, Matthew stepped in my path, his hands on mine, pulling my fist apart even as I fought him.
"You know…" he said, looking into my eyes. Then he stepped back, turning dangerously close to Travis. "If you ever come near her again, I'll bury you myself." His voice was so low I barely heard it.
"I'd like to see you try," Travis growled.
"I don't need to try. I can…" Matthew smiled, a smile that held secrets. He leaned in close to Travis's ear. "I wonder what your fiancée would think, knowing she's being cheated on with a secret you've been fucking, thinking no one knows about."
Travis's face went pale, ghost‑white. He grabbed Matthew by the collar, but Matthew only laughed, leaving me and the students puzzled, lost in the mids of it all.
"Travis!" Mariann's voice cut through, pushing through the crowd to the front. Matthew laughed louder, then stopped, his voice harsh and stern.
"Fuck with her again and I'll make you watch the only thing you care about in this world break. Am I clear?" Matthew shoved him off, standing tall, showing Travis he was never afraid, showing him he didn't need fists to win.
"You think you won?" Travis's voice was darker than midnight.
"Mariann," Matthew called out, smiling as he walked toward her. But Travis stopped him, face hard as stone.
"Fine," Travis finally spoke in defeat. Matthew smiled, turned back to me, and pulled me by the hand as the crowd parted, whispering.
Travis's face in my eyes looked twisted, but underneath I saw the struggle—his pride cracking, his fury clawing to stay alive. He turned to Mariann, who gave him one last look before turning away, disappointment written across her face. Travis's chest heaved like he'd been gutted.
"Mariann!" he shouted, running after her, desperation in his steps. But she didn't look back. Not once.
Students still stood frozen, whispering. Matthew fought against my grip, dragging me harder until we broke through the crowd. He pulled me straight to the parking lot, yanked open the car door, and shoved me into the passenger seat. The slam rattled the frame.
He climbed in silent, jaw locked, revving the engine before tearing out of the lot.
"What the hell is your problem?" I yelled, voice sharp, chest burning. "This was my battle!"
His head snapped toward me, eyes blazing. "Really? And how was that going for you, Veronica? You think standing there trading threats with Travis was gonna end well? You think he wouldn't have fucked you up? You think you'd walk away without getting your ass handed to you?"
I glared at him, tears stinging but anger blazing. "I don't need you to decide for me! I don't need you dragging me out like I'm some fragile doll. I had it handled!"
Matthew's knuckles whitened on the wheel, his voice cracking with frustration. "Handled? You were seconds away from getting your face smashed in. Veronica, your mouth is your biggest downfall—you don't know when to shut up or walk away."
My voice broke, trembling but defiant. "You don't get it. I've been walking away all my life. The more I did, the more I got beat down. My family broke me. You think you're protecting me, Matthew? All you're doing is reminding me I'm broken."
Tears slipped free, streaking down my cheeks as I remembered Matthew being there back then, watching me take all those beatings—whether it was words or a slap across the face.
Matthew's jaw clenched. He muttered, almost under his breath, "You're not broken. You're reckless. Back then I hated coming to your house. Times I'd make excuses to your sister just not to go. I was so tired of seeing you get beaten down for stepping too hard."
I turned to him, chest heavy, voice struggling to speak. "Why didn't you help before? Why are you being the hero now?"
"Because I was tired of being told that you deserved it… and I wanted to help multiple times, but I loved your sister. I was selfish because I knew at times you were innocent, but saving you meant losing her, and I was scared. Until I realized that one day, what if they hit you so hard you died? I would have to live with that on my hands. I keep saving you because I should have a long time ago. You may feel like you are broken, but you really aren't…"
I looked at him, watching how much he meant every word, feeling the tears pour out even more. I turned my face to the window, my voice low but full of emotion. "Then stop treating me like I'm something you have to fix. You want to save me? Stop dealing with me like you owe me."
Feeling his eyes on me, he finally answered, "Okay… I will."
At the next stoplight, Matthew exhaled hard, almost broken. The light turned green, and he drove on, quieter now, the fury draining.
Minutes later, he pulled into a small park tucked off the road. The grass stretched wide, dotted with benches, children's laughter carrying faintly from the playground. The lake shimmered under the sunlight, calm, untouched by everything we had just left behind..
I wiped my eyes, staring out at the scene. "What are we doing here?" I asked softly.
Matthew didn't answer right away. He leaned back, grip loosening on the wheel, gaze fixed on the horizon. Finally, his voice came low, heavy with memory.
"I used to watch you back then… sitting by your window, books in your hands, staring at kids playing outside. You looked so damn peaceful. Like the world couldn't touch you. Thought maybe this would bring you some peace too."
"How did you know it brought me peace?" I asked curiously, turning in my seat to face him.
"Because it was the only time you let your guard down," he answered, turning to face me, smiling at first only for it to fade into sadness.
"What's wrong?" I asked, really invested.
"I'm sorry… that day when the incident happened… I was by your room like multiple other times. I would crack it open enough where you wouldn't notice," he spoke, embarrassed.
I looked at him, shocked. "You were spying on me?" I blurted out. "What if one day I was naked?" I continued, my cheeks hot from the thought of being violated.
"You are always by the window at 5:00 p.m. You're a very routine person. You like to bathe by 3 p.m. for some unknown reason. I don't know if it's changed in the past few months… and the look on your face isn't making me feel any better that I was watching you," he blurted out, looking away toward the cheerful playground.
I was stunned that he had been invested in watching me. I was traumatized.
"I can't believe—"
Suddenly he interrupted me, cutting me off.
"Look, I wasn't right… but in that toxic fucking house you had the most amazing presence. I loved your sister, but she had ways I couldn't stand. Your family talked so much bad about you, and I never saw it. I was curious why you were such a demon, and maybe if I saw you doing some shit, you would turn my mind against you too. But you didn't. And it was wrong of me watching, but you became the only peace in that house for me to even visit the woman I loved."
"I'm freaking out right now and I need some air," I responded, my panic button on overdrive as I pulled the car door and stepped out, exhaling heavily. I walked away from the car to the nearest bench I could find.
Sitting down, it was finally making sense… Elainese hated me because the one thing she wanted found peace with me. I was so lost in my thoughts I had no idea when Matthew came beside me, startling the living hell out of my core.
"That night shit went down… I was going to the bathroom upstairs and I stopped at your door just for a minute when your sister sneaked up behind me. She was upset. We went to the bathroom arguing, and I told her you meant nothing to me—and honestly, you didn't. Yes, I felt my love draining from her, but I begged her to cut out some stuff she kept doing. Then she just went dark. And I couldn't react when I had come to the door when she fell, because if I did… shit would have been way worse," he informed me, guilt drowning him as the truth fell off his tongue.
Rubbing my head in disbelief… I finally found out some truth I was happy to know, but at the same time very, very terrified—wishing it had remained buried.
"I'm sorry for adding to the pain… and I'm walking with that guilt, and I can't change it. So yes, I owe you, because I should have ended it with her. I should have never been idling at your door. I am so fucked up," he spoke, pleading for my forgiveness.
"Honestly, I thought you were a crackhead. Didn't know you had the brains to be going to, you know… our school," I spoke, laughing through my nervousness, still trying to wrap my head around his confession.
Matthew rubbed his face, letting out a bitter laugh. "Yeah… your sister loved that bad boy image. And I loved her, but I was so damn focused on ways to keep her instead of just being me. Plus, I know I was high sometimes. Believe me, at times it was the only way to cope—with her, with your household. So I get what you're saying." He shook his head, laughing without humor.
I stared at him, my chest tight. "I don't forgive you, Matthew… But… your mistakes pushed everything in my life right. For the first time, I had a real family. Crazy Renae, her dad Julian, Anica. Despite everything, I wasn't alone anymore."
He looked at me, eyes heavy. "So the only good I ever did was by fucking everything up?"
I exhaled so hard my chest pained a little, my voice trembling on the brink of crying again. "Yeah. Pretty much. But hey… I found happiness in the weirdest set of people. Zion, Kevon protecting me, Jay making everything fun. Even Travis—yeah, he's being a dick right now, but he's a great guy underneath. Mariann doesn't talk much, but she's cool. And Titi… I'm still watching her, because something isn't right. But I found friends. I found joy. I found happiness. And I don't think all that would've been possible if you hadn't done what you did."
Matthew's jaw tightened, his voice low. "So me screwing up gave you the life you should've had all along?"
I nodded, tears burning at the edges of my eyes even more now. "If you hadn't stepped in that night when my dad was hitting me like a damn punching bag… if you hadn't brought me to the hospital… I don't even know if I'd be here. You saved me. And yeah, you're fucked up, and you hurt me, but you did one thing good. You gave me a chance to live long enough to find the people who make me feel like I belong."
Matthew's voice cracked, softer now. "I never wanted to be the villain in your story, Veronica. I remember going home, getting so high because I wanted to forget. Days I would ghost your sister just to get shit out of my mind. But if being the villain is what gave you a family, then I'll carry that. I'll carry all of it. Because at least it means you're still here."
I turned my face toward the park, kids laughing in the distance, my voice quiet. "You'll always be the mistake that saved me. And that's the truth I can't run from."
Matthew went silent, his shoulders sagging, guilt and relief tangled in his expression. For once, he didn't argue. He just sat there, and finally we allowed the truth to set us free—even if it didn't do so completely