28. Matt
28
MATT
I drive home emotionally spent and hoping that letting me know she got home alive isn’t too much of a commitment in her warped heart.
Sleep evades me as I lie in my bed battling the flood of disappointment coursing through me. I really hoped we were getting somewhere. But she’s right, I wasn’t listening to what she was saying. I had no right to ask of her what she repeatedly said she wasn’t willing to give.
My phone vibrates with a text.
Natalie: Home
One word. No punctuation. No emojis. But it’s enough for my heart to settle down, knowing she’s safe, and I fall asleep.
“How’s Natalie? Is she feeling better?” Mom asks me when I join her for our Saturday lunch.
“Probably,” I shrug.
“What do you mean? You didn’t take care of her? I thought I raised you better than that.”
“It’s not like that. We were not like that. We were just casual.” The words taste rotten in my mouth.
“Ooh, you were beneficiaries? I heard about it,” she asks proudly, and I huff out a laugh, despite my somberness.
“Friends with benefits. And yeah. We were.”
“So, what happened?” She pokes at her plate, pretending to be interested in it.
“She decided it got too serious for her.” There’s nothing more to tell.
“Why wouldn’t she want more with you?” Typical mom, expecting the world to love me like she does.
“She doesn’t do more. Period. It doesn’t have anything to do with me.” It’s a poor man’s comfort. It doesn’t make me feel any better.
Mom’s brows pull together for a second, like she’s thinking it through.
“Look, Mom. Let’s just let it go. For some unknown reason, she doesn’t do more than casual, and there’s nothing to do about it.”
“It must be a good reason.” She nods. “She’s consciously avoiding a lot of beautiful things, just to keep her heart safe. Someone must have done a number on her.” My mom understands, completely. She never had a real relationship after my dad left. She probably didn’t have the time. But she has it now.
“Why didn’t you ever get back out there?” I ask.
“It’s hard.” She scoffs. “To survive, you hide your heart far away from anything that could hurt it. By the time you’re over the hurt, your heart is so far off no one could reach it. It would take a special person to bring the heart out of the cage.” She looks at me pointedly. I appreciate her believing in me, but I’m obviously not that person for Natalie.
No matter how much I want to be.
“Thanks, Mom. For the talk, and for everything you did for us.”
“You were what made me survive. I should be thanking your sister and you.” She smiles at me.
The talk with my mom confirmed what I already thought. She was hurt. And this is her way of not getting hurt again. And she built her walls so far up, I have no idea how to cross them. How to show her I would never ever hurt her.
At work, the silent treatment between us is almost unbearable. On the one hand, we’re so busy with last preparations for the gala I don’t have a lot of time to dwell on it. On the other hand, we’re forced to cooperate more.
She looks amazing in her tight wool dress, fierce and put together, not like she’s been questioning her decision the whole weekend—which might have been what I was hoping for. She’s also back to being hostile toward me. Terse responses and glares don’t go unnoticed by others, so it doesn’t come as a surprise when Anne pulls me into the break room, and I find Rina and Natalie already inside.
“We staged this intervention,” Anne starts, when Rina cuts in.
“What the hell is up with you two?”
“Nothing.” Natalie shrugs. “We used to have sex, now we don’t anymore. End of story.” Her words pierce through my chest.
Anne sneaks a glance at me, checking my reaction. “What she said,” I confirm, though it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
Her eyes narrow, and I know I’m about to be forced to talk more about this. Rina watches us like two wounded animals, waiting to see which one of us will attack first.
“Is this all? I would like to return to work now,” Natalie says, her smile wide and bright.
“I don’t know. Will the two of you be a pain in everyone’s ass?” Rina responds.
“Look, I don’t know what you think you see, but the two of us are perfectly cordial to each other. I know this place is friendly and familiar, but it doesn’t mean we all have to be one happy family.” Rina shakes her head, realizing bickering with Natalie will lead to nowhere. Natalie takes the hint and leaves the break room. Rina shoots me an apologetic smile before following her.
“I hope you have time for lunch,” Anne says, pulling me by my sleeve.
“A half hour maybe,” I respond.
She nods. “Let’s go.”
Few minutes later, we’re in the sandwich shop.
“What happened?” Fuck, I’m getting sick of talking about it.
“She decided it was too much.” Please let this be the end.
“And what do you think?”
“I think it wasn’t nearly enough. I think she’s made a huge mistake, and I can’t do a single thing about it.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“What happened to her, Anne? Why doesn’t she let me in?”
“I don’t know.” She sighs. “Neither does Rina. She was like this when they met. We assume there is more to the story there, but she keeps things close to the heart.” She looks me in the eyes, obviously seeing something in them.
“You really like her, don’t you?”
“Yes. I do.” I don’t say the other word—which is also true. The one haunting me since she exited my car on Friday.
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I know. There’s nothing to tell. Sometimes things just don’t work out.” I shrug. It’s too painful talking about it, so I change the topic. “What’s up with you? Have you met up with Bryce?”
A blush creeps up her cheeks. “Yeah, we met up a few times. Had a really good time, too.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Anne. You deserve that.” I smile. No matter my shitty love life, this girl deserves all the love in the world, and I hope she’ll find it.
“Yeah, we’re taking it one step at a time.”
“You taking him to the gala?”
“Nooo,” she backtracks. “It would be way too awkward.” I chuckle in response. Last year, Bryce went to the gala with Rina, while she wasn’t able to admit to herself she was crazy about Connor.
“I get that. To not having a date for the gala.” I clink my glass of water to hers and she smiles.
The thought of bringing a random date for the gala crossed my mind, but I quickly squandered it. First, it would be beyond immature and second, it wouldn’t be fair to the poor girl since I doubt I’ll be able to keep my eyes off of Natalie.
I also wanted to bring my mom, who’d certainly enjoy a night of glamour, but that would only stress Natalie out more, especially if my mom tried to become friends with her, which she definitely would.
I really hoped by that night, Natalie and I would have come far enough to be each other’s dates. Or at least far enough that we’re both dateless and sitting next to each other.
Fuck, I was really prepared to take whatever she gave me. I need to get a grip on myself.
So, once again, I act like she doesn’t exist. Pretend I don’t hear her laughter a few desks away, or notice the scent of her perfume when she walks by.
I continue pretending until I leave the office. I get through hockey practice and stay afterwards to shoot pucks until I’m barely able to stand. My biceps twitch by the time I’m done, finally moving my focus to something other than the person I’m pretending not to think about.
The cold shower relaxes my body giving me a sense of calm. There’s nothing I can do right now. Nothing but respect her wishes.
I’d love to convince myself I’ll get over her soon, but there’s no use. This girl leaving my mind is a thought beyond my comprehension at the moment.
Arriving at the gala, I give a short statement to a reporter and pose for a few pictures with the photographer we hired. Some of us spent the morning handling last minute prep of the venue, but Kiara assured me my help isn’t needed. My guess is Natalie wanted me nowhere around.
My stomach flutters with nerves about seeing her. Somehow, I know she will look so beautiful, it will be hard not to touch her.
The venue looks out of this world. Vines and ivy wrap around the fancy chandeliers, flowing down towards the tables. Huge stalks of bamboo serve as centerpieces in tall glass vases, surrounded by colorful potted flowers. Right next to the entrance, there is a moss wall with a full-sized wooden frame—a perfect place for photo ops. The bamboo will be replanted, the ivy is reclaimed, provided by someone who cleared it from their garden; all the décor is sustainable. My lips turn up, marveling at the way she took my simple idea and made it a masterpiece.
My breath is knocked out from me when my eyes land on her. She’s breathtaking in a floor length forest green dress. With off the shoulder straps and tiny leaves sewn into the skirt of the dress, she’s a fairy in a forest she created. Her dark red lipstick draws my attention to her lips, her doe eyes crinkling with a smile.
My fists clench inside my tux pockets when I notice who she’s laughing with. A tall, dark, Idris Elba wannabe stands to her right, leaning on the bar, and smiling right back at her.
A fire starts in my stomach as I try to relax my jaw to stop it from breaking. A slap on my back finally releases me from my jealous shock.
“What’s up, man? What you staring at?” Connor asks, but I don’t move my gaze. “Oh...Oh. Guess you haven’t had the chance to meet Danielle’s husband.” The bastard chuckles, but I have no idea what’s funny.
“Come on.” He slaps my shoulder once again, and I follow behind him.
“Natalie, looking as beautiful as ever. Great to see you again, Caleb,” he says, shaking the bastard’s hand. “I don’t think you’ve met Matt yet.”
“The man of the hour.” He puts out his hand for me to shake, and I squeeze it harder than necessary. “Good job with the theme. This looks incredible.” Natalie scoffs.
“Umm, thank you. But I can’t take the credit. It was a team effort.” Danielle approaches us in a dark orange gown, and he circles her arm around her waist.
Ooooh...That’s what Connor meant. Danielle’s husband—as in the guy talking to Natalie. The knot inside of my belly starts to unwrap as my jealousy subsides. The thought of her bringing a date was a kick in the guts.
Nodding my head in a greeting, I remove myself from the situation. A waiter comes to the rescue, so I grab a glass of champagne and down half of it.
“Hey, where are you going?” Rina asks as she makes her way to the bar.
“Going to find Anne. Looking good, Rins.” Her eyes widen at my somber tone, and she gives my arm a gentle pat.
I expected this. I was prepared for this to be hard. But I didn’t expect to feel like my lungs can’t get enough air in them, like my eyes have a hard time traveling anywhere other than to her, and my hands needing to be perpetually clenched so they wouldn’t wrap around her.
“Thank God,” I mutter to myself, seeing Anne and Noah enter. Insisting that inviting Bryce would be too weird, she asked Noah to come with her as a friendly date. I’m grateful to have my buddy here.
“Look at you, Mattie. You clean up nice,” Anne says with a smile, and I do a mocked model turn, eager to turn my mood better.
“You don’t look half bad yourself, Annie. Even this one,” I point my thumb at Noah, “looks appropriate. Where’d you get the tux?”
“Your mom’s closet, in fact.” Noah jokes, making me laugh.
“I’m going to go say hi to everyone. Don’t forget to mingle.” Anne does a fake salute.
Noah and I head to the other side of the bar, me leading the way.
“Is there a reason we aren’t standing with the rest?” he asks.
“No reason at all.”
“Natalie looks nice today.”
“Haven’t noticed.”
He laughs. “Hint taken, man.”
He grabs a drink while I down the rest of my champagne.
Soon, the rest of the guests start pouring in, making the task of avoiding Natalie easier. Kiara is next to me for most of the night, introducing me to everyone.
“Thomas, dear, I’d like to introduce you to my newest employee and the brains behind our wonderful theme tonight, Matt Anderson.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I say, shaking his hand firmly. The wealthy looking gentleman is the epitome of the old, white guy stereotype, and he confirms it by speaking out.
“Kiara, darling, finally decided to bring in some testosterone, huh? Good call.” He winks at her, and her smile turns from honest to barely hanging on, with a twitch in her eye.
“We’re definitely glad to have him. Don’t forget to donate.” She pulls me away.
“Sheesh, why do you put up with that?” I ask her when we’re far enough away.
A snicker escapes her. “Not all of us are privileged enough to have others care about our feelings—or the privilege of sharing those thoughts and not being ostracized. So, for one night a year, I smile through the terrible, misogynistic, xenophobic jokes, knowing their white savior complexes are the ones allowing us to use their money for something good for once.” I swallow, hit by the sincerity in her voice. She’s an amazing boss, but we never talked this openly.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I respond. She was once just like one of the kids in our care. She’s a total boss now, but I’m not dense enough to think she didn’t face obstacles along the way.
“It’s OK.” She squeezes my hand, her warm brown eyes wrinkling with a smile before leaving to grab herself a drink.
Fuck. I’m here, wallowing about Natalie, instead of putting myself a hundred percent in schmooze mode. Straightening my vest, I make my way to a group of older ladies, ready to squeeze out some money.