41. Xed
Chapter forty-one
“ C ome on, Fungus, hurry!”
Hannah’s hand feels small in mine as we make our way through the crowded stadium in Denver. She’s been chattering non-stop, the excitement bubbling out of her like we weren’t just parted for seven months. Like I haven’t spent over half a year missing her so much it hurt to breathe.
She tugs on my arm, pointing toward the field. “There he is! Daddy’s warming up!”
When I follow her gaze, I see him.
Matty.
The sight of his thick frame sends a familiar ache through my chest.
The stadium lights shine down on him, and for a moment, I hate how good he looks. Confident, sure of himself, as if he hasn’t shattered me. As if he didn’t leave me behind to pick up the pieces when he left.
“I miss you so much,” Hannah had said on the phone last week. “Daddy’s playing a game soon, so please come.”
It was the first call I’d gotten from her in months, thanks to Val. Part of me wonders if she actually wanted to see me or if Matty put her up to it, but I cut that thought off at the knees .
Better. I’m supposed to be doing better. Hannah wants me here and I’m worth it. I’m worthy of her love.
Matty’s dad, Wayne, stands to hug me when we get to our seats, squeezing me tightly.
“It’s good to see you, son,” he says, patting me on the back. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Not totally a lie. It’s all okay.
Monotonous. Tedious. Boring.
Lonely.
Hannah laughs, waving furiously at her dad, oblivious to the storm in my head. He hasn’t noticed us yet, too busy throwing warm-up passes with his teammates, his movements fluid. He looks happy. Free.
I wonder if he realizes I’m here to see her , not him. I just need my heart to get the same memo. Because no matter how happy I am to see her, sitting here feels like opening a wound that will never close.
I’ve tried to forget him. Move on, go about life like every part of who I am wasn’t created to exist in Matty’s world. Work, NA, therapy, sleep. That’s it. It’s been a fucking nightmare loop.
When the game starts, Hannah cheers like crazy, adorable in her little Cardinals jersey. I sit stiffly, clapping when I’m supposed to, but my eyes keep drifting back to Matty. He runs the field like he owns it, weaving between defenders with the kind of focus that’s always made him a monster on the field. It goes on for far too long, both teams battling head-to-head.
The stadium erupts when he scores a defensive touchdown in the second quarter, putting his team ahead, and Hannah jumps up, screaming. Matty pulls off his helmet, scanning the crowd as he jogs back to the sideline, and when his eyes land on us—on me—they freeze.
For a moment, it’s like the noise of the crowd disappears. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I hate how his gaze lingers and how it makes me feel like he’s trying to reach for something that isn’t his anymore.
If it ever was.
“Daddy saw me!” Hannah’s voice pulls me back, her face lit up like Christmas morning.
“Yeah, he did,” I say, forcing a smile.
But Matty isn’t just looking at her. He’s also looking at me, and the weight of his gaze presses down like a boulder.
I should have stayed home and told Hannah no, because seeing him now reminds me of everything I’ll never have again.
I thought it had been enough time, that all these months spent in therapy would make this easier, but it’ll never be easy with Matty again.
As his teammates surround him, celebrating his win, I feel lost at sea, drifting further from harbor.
I can’t keep doing this to myself.
Turning to Wayne, I fight to keep my voice from shaking. “I’m going to, uh, head out now.”
Hannah instantly deflates, turning to me with big, sad eyes that crush the last functioning pieces of my already broken heart. “You’re leaving, Fungus? But you just got here.”
I exhale slowly, pulling her into a tight hug, burying my face in her messy hair. It smells like sunscreen and bubblegum. “I know, Creetch. But I’m tired.”
So. Fucking. Tired .
She clings to me desperately, and I meet Wayne’s gaze over her head. His bushy brows are drawn tight, his expression pinched with concern. He opens his mouth, about to speak, but the stadium explodes into cheers before he gets a chance.
We turn toward the field, the noise swallowing Wayne’s words. Matty’s face shines under the flickering lights on the massive screen above the stands for the half-time report. His blue eyes are bright, strands of sweaty blond hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed from exertion. So goddamn beautiful it hurts to look.
A reporter stands next to him, shoving a microphone in his face. Her voice echoes around the field, finally audible as the crowd quiets slightly. “Matthew, incredible game so far! The fans are going wild. What’s the first thing on your mind after a performance like that?”
Matty laughs, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. “To be honest, I feel unstoppable tonight, and it’s all because of someone watching in the crowd.”
The reporter’s brows jump as whispers roll through the stands. “Oh? Do tell.”
He nods, his smile faltering a little. “Yeah. There’s this person I’ve known my whole life, they’ve always been there for me, even when I didn’t deserve it. They’re my best friend, and... I’m in love with them. I just hope they know it.”
My heart lurches as Wayne stiffens beside me, his mouth tightening into a line as his eyes dart between me and the screen. Hannah shifts in my arms, glancing up at me in confusion, but I can’t look at her. I can’t look anywhere except at Matty, who stares into the camera like he’s speaking directly to me .
But the words… they don’t feel like enough. Not when the crowd cheers louder, drowning out their significance. Not when he doesn’t say my name. Not when it feels like he’s still hiding behind his confession.
Because that’s what it is. A half-truth. A coward’s way out.
And I deserve better than that.
Hannah hugs me tighter as Matty’s image fades from the screen, and Wayne touches my arm. “Xed, you sure you’re alright?”
I nod stiffly, though my chest feels hollow. “Yeah. Fine.”
But I’m not. Not even close.
Nothing is fucking fine.