Chapter 203

The silence between Lindey and me was suffocating. I was about to offer an excuse to end the call when Lindey’s voice cut through, trembling with anger. “Matthew’s like this because of that bitch. For that alone, I’ll never forgive her.”

She practically spat the words. I’d never heard Lindey so vicious; it sent a chill down my spine, leaving me speechless.

“Rea,” she said, “when you can, visit Matthew more often. You’re the only one who can give him some peace.”

Her words weighed heavily on me, but I agreed.

After the call ended, I leaned back in my car seat, feeling completely drained, as if something were crushing my chest. When I got home, I curled up on the couch, my mind racing, trying to piece everything together. Everything pointed to Thorsten. But the connection between him and Matthew—their business ties—and the fact that Thorsten’s location was password-protected? It felt incredibly suspicious.

If there was nothing to hide, why such secrecy?

The more I thought about it, the more my mind spun, the fear of the truth growing. My head began to pound. I grabbed a pillow, burying my face in it, trying to drown out the chaos. It was my usual coping mechanism for overwhelming situations.

Just as I was suffocating, I heard a knock at the door.

At first, I thought I imagined it. Then I heard my name.

I pulled away the pillow, my heart racing as I cautiously approached the door. Even in broad daylight, danger was a possibility. Before unlocking it, I called out, “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Hayden.”

His voice stopped me. What was Hayden doing here? Had something happened?

I opened the door, and there he stood, effortlessly handsome in a black t-shirt and cargo pants—practical, yet striking.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, still stunned.

Without a word, Hayden stepped forward and placed his hand on my forehead. The warmth of his palm brought an unexpected sense of calm.

“No fever,” he said, lowering his hand and lifting a grocery bag filled with fresh ingredients. Crisp vegetables peeked out; he’d just bought them. “For lunch, I’m making creamy risotto. Side dish: boiled spinach and chicken breast. How’s that sound?” he asked, like a caring husband.

I started to protest, “No, don’t worry about it, it’s too much trouble. I’ll just order—”

Hayden cut me off. “You can’t eat anything greasy right now.”

Somehow, he was already inside. By the time I snapped out of my daze, he was moving around the kitchen, prepping ingredients with quiet efficiency. He’d already done me so many favors; there was no point in pretending I didn’t need the help. I leaned against the doorway, sipping my water as I watched him tie on an apron and get to work.

“You’ve got time to come over today? Is the amusement park project done?” I asked, trying to fill the silence.

“Almost,” Hayden replied, his knife slicing through vegetables with practiced ease. The sound of the blade hitting the cutting board was clear—he knew his way around a kitchen.

“Let me know when it’s all finished,” I reminded him.

“Yeah,” Hayden said, still focused on the vegetables.

I took another sip of water, my eyes tracing over him. I had to admit, Hayden was the kind of guy who looked good from every angle. His narrow waist and broad shoulders? Let’s just say it was way too easy to let my mind wander.

To stop myself from inappropriate thoughts, I focused on the little mole at the back of his neck. “Hayden, we didn’t talk today, did we?”

“No.”

I bit my lip, curious. “Then how did you know I’d be home?”

It had been bugging me since he showed up. I hadn’t told him I’d be home, nor had I mentioned it to anyone else. Yet, here he was at my door, groceries in hand, as if he knew exactly where I’d be.