Sarah
Matthew helps me into the boat, his hand warm and steady on mine, but he lets go quickly, not meeting my eyes.
"Are you okay?" I ask after we get back to our room.
"Fine," he says curtly.
"You've been so quiet ever since we got back. Are you angry at me, Matthew? What did I do this time?" I ask.
"Nothing, Sarah. Absolutely nothing. I just want a moment of peace. Is that alright with you?" he snaps.
I flinch at the sharpness in his tone, my chest tightening. "I wasn't trying to bother you," I say softly. "I just thought—"
"You just thought what?" he cuts in, running a frustrated hand through his damp hair. "That we could pretend everything is fine? That today somehow changed anything?"
His words hit like a slap, and I take a step back. "I don't know what you want from me, Matthew. One moment, you're laughing with me, holding me, and the next, you hate me again."
