One Week Three Hearts: by Adele Allaire

he coaxed her to try, and then Matt snagged one of his laptops to busy himself with work while Rose tried to figure out what his earlier actions meant in the grander scheme going forward.
    The temptation to touch him in some reassuring way monopolized her, but the return of Matt's studiously cold demeanor that matched the room's temperature suggested she refrain. Instead, Rose propped up her pillow so she could arrange herself on her side and watch the LED screen's reflection in his eyes.
    "Ten years," Matt said. The laptop screen flipped through slides on a presentation filled with figures and charts. "Damn. They want to change the materials again."  
    "What do you mean?"
    Nervously chewing her lower lip, Rose wanted a firm declaration of his feelings, but instead expected an indirect and confusing answer. Positive whatever lurked beneath the surface to prompt all his past confirmations still existed, Rose wished he would just definitively say it one more time. Loving someone she sometimes feared and rarely saw proved to be a tough challenge.
    A blank email form popped up, and Matt pecked out one brief sentence. "The product marketing team wants me to approve cheaper materials so the company makes more profit on what I designed. Now I have to tell them to raise the price instead. It's the same discussion every time; they want me to compromise."
    Matt lacked any signs of introspection as he pulled up another presentation file to flip through. "They only recognized my designs when I demonstrated I knew when to compromise," he said. "Now they do whatever they can to keep me because I'm constantly producing; they know eventually I'll hit it out of the park with one out of a hundred ideas I come up with. It's a hard road to grow success after you initially achieve it. When others cashed their stock options and moved on, I stayed and became an asset."
    Acrimony laced his last word and widened the few inches of space between them. Rose fought off the instinct to reach for him, and kept her arms under the covers. He revealed a part of his life and character she wasn't privy to before. She could prod him to reveal more, but the casual mention of a decade stuck out like a flashing red sign.
    "No, I meant the ten years thing you said."
    A sinking feeling churned her stomach over squandering such a ripe opportunity to turn the conversation's focus to Matt. There would be a price for that, but she need a confirmation, anything to explain what passed between them.
    His attention remained locked on the screen. "Do you remember the day you met me?" Matt asked. "You told me you weren't going to wear panties on your wedding day so you two could quickly start the wedding night."  
    She nodded. The memory flushed her cheeks with embarrassment at the carefree attitude she used to drape herself in, and caused her to blurt out statements before thinking about their impact. Why did she say that to him all those years ago? Did her subconscious reveal some desire to escape, or a need for some validation she could still tempt another man before committing to Jason? A psychoanalyst would have a field day trying to figure that out.
    No, there was something about Matt that provoked honesty she immediately recognized. And he picked up on that recognition, stowing it away for the right moment to foster and nurture.
    Matt turned to face her head on, half illuminated by the laptop screen's blue glow. "I honestly can't stand weak women," he said. "I spent ten years wondering what kind of woman makes a remark like that to her husband's best friend the day before she married him. Tonight… I figured it out."
    Rose reminded herself to breathe, but the air refused to travel through her lungs as Matt turned back to his laptop. His admission caused her grip to tighten on the pillow cradling her head. The blanket didn't prevent a cold shudder to course through her body, and Rose wondered about the man she would sleep beside that night.
    Ten years… all of that