49. Evie #2
Making new friends, and not just ones that pretend. True genuine friendships that fill my cup and heart, ones that make me walk away with a smile on my face instead of anxiety.
Then there’s Matteo.
My beautiful, handsome, kind, caring Matteo.
Boyfriend isn’t the right term for him, isn’t a big enough word to express what pounds through my heart when we’re together. It’s otherworldly, larger than life, all-consuming.
I’ve been swept into the whirlwind that is Matteo Valenti and I never want to come up for air.
He’s everything for me.
My best friend.
My adventure partner.
The first person I want to turn to when things get hard and the first person I want to celebrate with when things go right.
With the way he’s helped me through this healing journey, he deserves every ounce of love I send his way. He’s so incredibly patient it brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it.
That first night after therapy was not a once-off.
He’s there every time, waiting for me as I walk back home from a grueling emotional session.
Always ready with my comfort foods and favorite snacks, a bath heated up and The O.C.
projected on the wall. Even on the particularly hard days, he holds me as I sob into his chest, rubbing soothing circles up and down my back, stroking my hair and whispering all the right things.
Through it all, through the ups and downs, he is there—always.
Matteo has proven to me that he means every word when he promises that he will be there for me through it all.
I wouldn’t have been able to get this far through therapy without him. I would have lost myself to the grief of what I thought my childhood was, would have lost myself to the reality. I had to put down the facade of what I made my brain believe my childhood was versus what it truly was.
I would have drowned in my misery if it weren’t for Matteo.
That’s why I show up for him in return in any way I can. I may not understand how to code but anytime he needs someone, I’m there, letting him talk to me as he walks through a problem.
The honor I felt when he showed me his unfinished project was like no other.
Matteo never shows anyone an unfinished project, his perfectionism being too strong, but he broke that barrier between us and let me in.
My heart melted even further when he explained the project he’s working on with Kieran.
If I wasn’t already in love with him I would have fallen right then and there.
He is mine and I am his.
I think we always have been.
The game has us all on the edge of our seats.
Bella clutches my right hand while Layla grips my left. Cindy isn’t even sitting anymore; she’s standing, her hands on her head.
It’s two to two, the most intense game of the season. Colorado IceHawks against Michigan Bulls.
Bella hasn’t properly been able to take a breath the entire time. A player who I’ve been informed tried to come for Grayson’s job two years ago has been goading him all game, throwing jabs to try and rile him up. Grayson hasn’t taken the bait, but the same can’t be said for the rest of the team.
Fights have been breaking out all game, the arena turning frenzied over it. With only two minutes on the clock, tension is at an ungodly high.
With bated breath, the girls and I watch as Kieran gets the puck and takes off down the rink, Grayson right alongside him, ready and waiting as he passes.
Suddenly, at a thunderous crash, my eyes dart toward Matteo on the ice, who has a Michigan player held against the boards. The referee blows the whistle, the game pausing as he makes a push motion, the foul called against Matteo.
It’s the only time Matteo is vocal outside of his closest friends and family.
He rips his helmet off, his face contorting in confusion as he fights the ref on the call.
Cindy whistles, finally taking a seat. “Jesus Christ.”
“Did anyone see?” I ask. “Was it a valid call?”
Layla bites her lip. “I was looking at Kieran. Sorry, Evie.”
Bella winces. “Same here but with Grayson.”
I peek over at Cindy but I know I already have my answer when I see she’s got her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes glued on O’Connor. He’s patting Matteo’s shoulder and trying to get him to cool off, all the while Caleb, who usually is Matteo’s voice of reason during games, stays far away.
“I can’t believe Caleb is still pissed at you two,” Bella murmurs, voicing what I was just thinking.
“Me too,” I whisper. “It’s not that he’s upset about us being together, he’s hurt because I didn’t tell him I had feelings. We’ve been so close, and I kept such a big thing from him.”
Bella gives me a sad knowing smile. “That would be hard, but surely he can see how much you and Matteo care about him?”
Shrugging, I don’t know what to say.
Guilt flows through my veins that, in a time where I’m the happiest I’ve been, Caleb hasn’t been a part of it. We were close, he was right about that. We had a relationship where I could tell him everything, but that changed when my memories came back.
My therapist told me that I don’t owe anyone anything when it comes to what was done to me.
That I shouldn’t feel pressured or forced to share if I’m not ready.
A part of me knows that, and the little girl who was forced to do horrendous things against her will deserves that, but the other part of me can’t let go of the guilt.
Despite it all, I can’t force myself to tell Caleb, not when I know it would break him.
Because my brother idolizes the man who abused me.
And I fear that everything he’s ever known would crumble if he found out his hero is the devil in disguise.
Matteo shakes his head as he skates off in the direction of the sin bin. Unceremoniously dropping onto the bench in the box, he’s still frowning as the jumbotron replays the hit.
The arena falls silent as we watch, and as the video plays, I can’t help but flinch.
The camera quickly cuts to Matteo to capture the corner of his lip twitch. He holds his hands up in surrender and calls out, “Fuck, yeah okay, my bad.”
I throw my head back on a laugh, unable to control it. Neither can the girls.
As if he can hear me, Matteo searches the crowd until his eyes land on me. The camera continues to follow him, filming the wink he sends my way.
The crowd goes crazy.
I’m not sure how we’ve managed to keep it out of the press but Matteo and I have avoided any and all blog posts.
It helps that the puck bunnies have never been able to get their claws in him—thank God for that—but our little bubble of peace and passion might have been popped with that little display.
The bunnies will be trying to find out who he winked at now.
Caleb looks from the jumbotron to me before frowning and shaking his head, and I can only sigh.
I hope he forgives us soon.