Can't Get Attached

I tell myself I should leave, that it is inappropriate for me to be standing here, watching things happen as if it were something both delicate and hazardous.

But I can't move.

Matteo spoke.

It's been months. I remained silent for months while therapists and experts advised me to exercise patience and that he would talk when he was ready. But it never happened.

Until now.

And it's because of her.

Ella's voice is steady, and her presence is calm. She doesn't flinch at the weight of Matteo's trust and doesn't react like it's some miracle.

She just accepts it.

I exhale slowly, forcing the tension out of my shoulders.

It's a wonderful thing, I tell myself.

But the truth remains beneath it.

If Matteo lets her in... if he starts to rely on her...

I don't know what we'll do when she leaves.

Because people like her always leave.

They have their own lives and secrets to deal with.

And I can't afford for Matteo to lose someone else.

I push away from the doorway and step back.

For now, I'll let it be.

But I'll be watching.

Because I can't let him get attached to something that won't last.

I won't let him break again.

I hesitated for a second; my heart caught somewhere between something softer and something dangerous. I can't get attached. I tell myself that over and over again. But then I look at him, curled up beside me, eyes wide and expectant, and I know I can't say no.

I turn back to the first page and start again, this time slowing down even more, letting each word settle.

Matteo doesn't speak again, but his fingers loosen slightly around the stuffed wolf. His body, which was once tense, gradually eases into the cushions beside me.

Halfway through, I notice something else—Leo is still in the doorway.

He hasn't moved.

I flipped my eyes toward him briefly, but his gaze was locked on Matteo. His jaw is clenched tight, arms still crossed, but there's something different now. 

Not anger. Not frustration.

The realization makes my chest tighten, but I push it aside. I focus on the little boy in front of me, the way his breathing has evened, and the way his gaze is on the illustrations as I read.

By the time I finish, Matteo's eyes are drooping.

I close the book softly, careful not to disturb the moment.

Then, without a word, Matteo shifts, pressing his small body against my side.

I go still.

I don't think. I just react, adjusting slightly so he's more comfortable.

He lets out a smooth breath, his stuffed wolf tucked against his chest.

I felt something settle inside me.

Something terrifying. I know exactly what it is.

Attachment.

And I also know—this is the last thing I should let myself feel.

I should step in, pull Matteo away, and remind him—remind both of them—that it isn't permanent.

But I don't move.

I watch as Matteo, my guarded, silent Matteo, presses against Ella like he's known her forever. 

Something in my chest twists. I don't know what this means.

I don't know if it's a mistake to let this happen.

But I do know one thing.

Matteo spoke today. 

And I don't know what scares me more—the fact that she got through to him or the fact that one day she might leave, taking that piece of him with her.

I didn't move for a long time. Matteo's small, warm body pressed against mine feels delicate. 

I glance at Leo again. He's still watching, but something in his posture has shifted. His shoulders aren't as rigid. His jaw is not as tightly clenched.

For a man who radiates control, he looks a little lost.

I don't know what to say to him.

So, I don't say anything.

Instead, I carefully shift, adjusting Matteo so he's lying more comfortably against the cushions. His breathing is steady now, slow and even.

Asleep.

I exhale quietly and pull the blanket draped over the couch, tucking it around him.

Only then do I stand.

Leo steps forward, lowering his voice. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know."

We stare at each other, the space between us thick with something I can't name.

There's something about him at that moment, but it's not my place to ask him.

I grab my bag, swinging it over my shoulder. "I should go."

Leo nods but doesn't move as I pass him.

I make it to the door before he speaks again.

"Thank you."

I pause, my hand tightening around the strap of my bag.

I don't look back when I answer.

"See you next time."

Then I step out into the night, letting the cool air clear my head.

And yet, as I walk down the long driveway, I know it's too late.

I've already let them in.

And I have no idea how to stop it.

I watch her leave.

I turn back to the couch, watching the slow rise and fall of Matteo's small chest.

He hasn't slept this peacefully in months.

My fists clench.

I have no idea what to do about her.

But one thing is clear.

I need to figure it out before it's too late.

The cold night air hits my skin as I step out of the Hayes estate. I felt like I needed a moment to breathe before I left completely.

The weight of Matteo's small body against mine is still vivid. How he held on to me, how he buried his face in my shoulder—it felt so natural. Too natural. As though I'm supposed to be here. 

But I don't belong here.

I tighten my grip on my bag and force my feet to move. The driveway is long and eerily quiet, the distant hum of the city feeling a world away. I should be relieved to be leaving, but my stomach twists.

I shake the thought off. I can't afford attachments, not to a child who has already lost enough, and not to a man who looks at me like he's trying to solve a puzzle.

I'm here to do a job. That's all.

The sound of the door opening behind me makes me stop.

Leo's deep voice breaks the silence. "You don't have a car?"

I turn, surprised to find him standing at the doorway.

I shrug. "I take the bus."

His brow looking, like the idea of someone stepping foot on public transport offends him. "At this hour?"

"It's not a big deal."

He doesn't look convinced. "I'll have someone drive you."

"That's not necessary."

"I wasn't asking."

I let out a breath, glancing back at the estate. "Matteo, will he be okay?"

Leo's jaw tightens slightly. "He'll be fine."

I don't know if I believe him.

But I nod anyway. "Okay."

A sleek black car pulls up a few minutes later. Leo gestures toward it, stepping aside so I can pass.

I hesitate for a second before getting in.

As the car rolls away from the estate, I watch as Leo stands at the doorway, his face strict, his posture rigid.

I don't want to admit, but I can't shake the feeling that this place is going to change everything.