A Journey from Bitterness to Truth (Matilda and Yvan) novel Chapter 285

December 31st in Sea City brought a chill that clung to your bones.

The wintry air was growing ever sharper, signaling the holiday season was upon us. Streets bustled with people, shoulders bumping in the hurried dance of life's relentless tempo. No longer did anyone pause for a familiar face; the rhythm of the city had become too swift.

Matilda Thompson clocked out from her shift to find Logan and Orson already cozied up at home. The school had granted Logan some time off for New Year's, a welcome break for the youngster. Orson had cranked up the central heating, much to Matilda's relief as she stepped in from the cold, her nose thawing from its rosy frostbite.

Orson had finished work early and was now sitting with Logan under the vents, their cheeks glowing from the warm currents circulating through the room.

Upon spotting Matilda, Logan dashed over with a grin. "Mommy, I beat you home again today!"

She chuckled, ruffling his hair. "That's because you're more diligent with your studies than Mommy is with work."

Logan tugged Matilda over to join them by the heat, while Orson snacked on strawberries, popping them into his mouth one after another. They spent the last evening of the year playing board games together, then Matilda retired early for the night.

Logan, insistent on staying up until midnight with Orson, camped out in his room, unwilling to emerge. Matilda couldn't win the argument and left him to it, crawling into bed herself. However, no sooner had she pulled the covers up did her phone buzz with an incoming call.

A strange number.

Matilda had grown wary of unknown callers recently, and sure enough, as soon as she answered, a burst of raucous bar music blared from the other end.

A server's voice crackled through the noise. "Excuse me, ma'am," Matilda frowned and replied with icy detachment, "What can I do for you?"

It was hard to hear over the din, but the server persisted. "Good evening, miss. It seems your husband has had a bit too much to drink and is unconscious at our establishment. Could you please come pick him up?"

Husband?

Matilda scoffed, "Sorry, but I'm single."

The server quickly caught on to the situation, trying to coax her gently, "But miss, your husband has your name as the emergency contact, Ms. Thompson, right? Please, it's New Year's Eve, no need for quarrels. Just come on down to the Myst bar and take him home, will you?"

Silence hung on the line before Matilda finally spoke, "I don't have a husband. You've got the wrong number."

"But Ms. Thompson, your—your husband is here passed out..."

Without another thought, Matilda hung up.

She wasn't about to play the fool and rush over after such a stunt. If she did, it would be nothing short of self-degradation.

Yvan Boyd, witnessing the server handing back his phone, slammed his drink on the floor in a fit of rage. "How dare she hang up on me!"