matthew
I walk out of the plane, ducking my head, holding on to the side rail as I take the steps down to the tarmac. The breeze runs through me as I make my way to my car, the sun in the sky slowly going down. I open the door to the back seat, throwing in my carry-on bag before I sit down in the driver’s seat. We were gone for one game on the road, so I don’t have that much I took with me. I take my phone out and power it back on, looking down to see if I got a text. The circle keeps going around and around as it finally loads up. The pings coming one after another showing me I missed four texts.
Opening up the text app, I see I have one from my mother.
Just thinking about you.
I want to laugh because I know she wants to say a lot more. I know she has a lot more questions for me, but I also know my father is holding her at bay. The second one is from my sister, Zara.
I heard the news that you escaped the ball and chain. You must feel one hundred and four point three pounds lighter. Let me know if you need to talk.
I skip the one from Christopher and go to the last text I sent her, two days ago.
It’s been two days since I sent her the text asking her to talk, and it’s been crickets. All it says is delivered. I was lying down in my hotel bed, watching I don’t even know what, when all I wanted to do was talk to her. All I wanted to do was hear her voice. I couldn’t explain it, so I pulled up the email I had saved from her in my inbox. Instead of calling her like I wanted to, I sent her the text. I placed the phone on my stomach, thinking that she would get back to me but nothing. Nothing for the last two days. I start the car and begin driving, but instead of going to my house, I drive straight to her office. I spot one car in the parking lot and park next to it.
Getting out, I see that the sun is almost gone now. I jog up the steps to the office, pulling open the door. Taking a step in, I see there is no one there. I walk into the middle of the room and look around. The same room where, two months ago, my life changed yet again. I look over at the pictures on the walls, trying to calm down the erratic beating of my heart.
What the fuck are you doing here? my head asks, and I don’t even know if I can answer. Is she even here? I have no idea. The only thing I know is this is where she goes, so I had to show up.
I hear the sound of shoes coming closer and closer when she steps out of the hallway. She looks at me, shocked. “Matthew,” she says my name in a whisper. “Are you okay?” she asks, stepping closer to me, which gives me a chance to take her in.
She’s wearing white jeans this time, and I think it’s the first time I’ve seen her here in jeans. She has a brown belt on, and a light beige, long-sleeved sweater with cuffs rolled at her wrists. Her hair is back and in a ponytail.
“I texted you.” That is the only thing that comes out of my mouth, and I have to be thankful it isn’t a declaration of love because, at this point, I don’t know what is going on with me. I’ve been trying so hard to do the right thing this whole time that I haven’t been my true self. I’ve been biting my tongue and suppressing everything so now I feel like I’m a ticking time bomb, and with just one push, everything is going to pour out of me.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she says, avoiding my eyes. “I was…” She stops talking and finally looks up at me. It happens in slow motion really, or maybe it hits me like a freight train that I didn’t know was coming. It was in this room that my world got rocked not long ago, and I finally realized she was the one. That it’s always been her and I’m pretty fucking sure and I can bet my life it will always be her. “What is going on?” She puts her hands in front of herself as she wrings them together, and I know she is just as nervous as I am.
“We need to talk.” I can hear my father’s voice in my head. You have to go lightly. It’s been two years. You are both different. It’s only because of that I’m not pulling her to me and kissing the shit out of her. Just the thought has me rock hard. Looking down, I make sure my shirt is covering how I feel.
“We don’t, though.” Her tone is filled with sass. A vision of me pushing her against the wall, with my hands outstretched beside her head, while I devour her mouth, showing her how much we have to talk about fills my mind. I can literally taste the kiss on my lips.
“I owe you a dinner.” The minute the words are out of my mouth, I know I should have chosen other words. I know this because all she does is glare at me, which makes me want her even more. “Can I take you out to dinner?” I ask, knowing she is going to say no. Also knowing that this time it’s different, she isn’t getting rid of me so easily. I’m not the stupid kid I was before.
“No,” she replies without even thinking twice or pretending to think about it and then letting me down.
“Please,” I say softly.
She just looks at me. “What do you want?” She asks the same question I’ve been asking myself since I let out what really happened between us. I know what the end goal is, I just don’t know how to get there.
“Just to talk to you,” I admit softly. “I just want to talk to you. I think we should talk.” My heart flies from the pit of my stomach to my throat, and I’m thinking about getting on my knees and begging her if I have to.
“Fine,” she huffs and then takes a deep inhale. “Why don’t I text you when I’m done and we can meet?”
I swear to everything, I want to jump up in the air and raise my hands over my head in victory while I celebrate. I can’t help the smile that fills my face. “I’ll take it.” I nod. “I’ll wait for your text.”
I start to walk out of the room, ready to escape while I can, and then I stop suddenly. I turn to her. “This isn’t like a trick, right?” I look at her, getting lost in her eyes, wondering what she’s seen in the past two years that I haven’t. Wanting to know all the memories she’s made. Well, maybe not all the memories. I don’t want to know shit about who she dated.
“What isn’t a trick?” she asks.
“That you say what I want to hear and then never contact me.” I put my hands on my hips.
She rolls her eyes at me. “You know where I work.” She raises her hands toward the walls, and I can’t help but throw my head back and laugh. Like real laughter that I haven’t had in a while. “How far do you think I can get before you realize I’m not contacting you?”
“You got that right,” I tell her in a way that she has to know she can run but she can’t hide. “See you later.”
I jog down the steps to her office, making my way to my car. Once I get in, I pull up her name, and instead of texting her, I call her. I’m more surprised than anything that she actually answers instead of sending me to voice mail. “You just left,” she says instead of saying hello. “I literally still see you outside.” She walks out of the door, standing at the top of the stairs. I just look up at her, wishing I could take the elastic out of her hair.
“I know.” I laugh, my finger tapping the steering wheel. “I was just wondering how much longer you think you will be?”
“What?” she says into the phone while still looking at me.
“If you aren’t going to be long, I can wait for you,” I tell her, and she just shakes her head.
“I have an appointment in thirty minutes, it should last maybe an hour. I will text you when I’m done.” All I can do is stare at her. “I promise I won’t ghost you.” I’m about to say something when she continues. “At least for today anyway.”
“I’ll wait for your text, then,” I say into the phone, and she turns to walk back into the office. “You look beautiful, by the way.” She stops mid step, never turning back around. I couldn’t not say it. It’s been at the tip of my tongue since I first saw her again, which makes me the biggest asshole ever.
“I’ll talk to you later.” That is all she says before the door closes and the line disconnects. I pull out of the parking lot and head toward my house. My body is filled with nerves and what feels like endless energy. Even though my body is exhausted from the game we played against LA, I feel like I could run a 5k.
Pulling up the phone feature on my screen, I call my father, who answers after one ring. “Hey,” he says, “how’re you doing?”
“Um,” I say nervously. “Do you think you can come down this weekend?” I ask.
“Of course.” He doesn’t even wait a second before answering me. “I will, however, have to bring your mother, or else I won’t be able to return to this house,” he says, laughing. “Apparently, according to her, I will lose some precious body parts that I would very much like to keep.”
I laugh, knowing how hard this must be for her. “Yeah, bring the whole family,” I tell him. “We can even do family lunch at my place on Sunday.”
“Are you sick?” my father interrupts me. “Did you get hit in the head?”
I laugh again, twice in less than an hour, this must be a record. “Nah,” I reply, leaving out that I’m hoping Sofia also joins us so they can meet her again. “Just miss you guys.”
“Okay, I’ll make a few calls,” he says.
“Put out a few feelers,” I mimic my uncle Matthew.
He laughs. “We’ll catch up this weekend, yeah,” he says. “Now I’m going to go and make your mother happy with the news.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I tell him as I park my car, “for everything.” He says he loves me before he hangs up and I get out and walk into my house and wait for her to call me. I was kidding before, if she doesn’t call me—I know exactly where I’m going tomorrow morning.