37. Matteo
THIRTY-SEVEN
MATTEO
The sound of the pouring rain filtering through the windows doesn’t help the solemn air around us.
I sit behind my desk across from Theo and Clara, both silent. Theo fiddles with his nervous fingers, casting me little looks that search for reassurance as Clara stares out the window, even breaths lifting her chest as she thinks over the question I just asked her.
“When did it start?” she repeats, chewing her bottom lip. “You mean when did he start to pull away or when did I realize that my husband would rather be anywhere else but with me?”
It was a question I had to ask. “Wherever you’d like to start, Clara. This is your time to speak freely.”
She chuckles under her breath as she shakes her head. It’s not in amusement, and it’s not out of cruelty, but more so baffled disbelief that this is where life’s taken her. “Speak freely. I feel like that’s all I’ve been trying to do lately. Maybe I just haven’t been trying hard enough.”
“Clara…” Theo starts, reaching for her, but he drops his hand at the last second. “Please, go ahead.”
“You know you’re the only love of my life,” she starts, turning to look at him with a small smile. “My life was a fairytale with you. I still remember our first kiss. Do you? By the little pond behind the school? You were so nervous, and I knew you wanted to kiss me, so I took the leap. It was quick and awkward, we were just teenagers, but you looked like I had given you the world.” She drops her head with a sigh. “You used to look at me like I was your world.”
I can tell that Theo doesn’t know what to say. He stays silent, digesting her words, and I know it’s my turn to speak. It’s out of curiosity that I ask my next question. “When did that change?”
She thinks it over but doesn’t address me. She takes Theo’s hands, bringing them to her lap as she looks deep into his eyes. “It’s like you woke up one day and became a stranger. We started laughing less, smiling less, speaking less. Things that used to matter to both of us disappeared. What happened to us, Theo?”
I suck in a deep breath as I wait for his answer. Everything she’s saying he stopped doing—laughing, smiling, speaking—it’s all Theo and I have done. The man she used to see every morning has woken up next to me. I’ve seen those beautiful snippets of him that he’s been denying her, whether it’s intentional or not. It sparks some complicated feelings within me, ranging from guilt to pride, and I try not to let my vanity win.
Theo shakes his head. “I don’t know what to say.”
“And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Clara says, laughing once again without humor, with gentleness, but not with joy. “You never know what to say anymore. I’ve tried talking to you, but you’re a blank slate. I thought in marriage we were supposed to work together to fix our issues, but it’s like you’re not even trying. Do you even love me anymore?”
“Of course I love you,” he rushes out.
My heart slices in half and I grip the edge of my chair to hide my reaction. It was killing me to hear this, the intimate details of their relationship, but this is a different level.
He still loves her?
The thought makes my blood run cold and everything about my relationship with him is turned on its axis. It’s like a slap to the face, a stab to the gut, like someone’s ripping out my insides and dangling them in front of me.
Does he love her the way I love him?
I try my hardest to fight the tears in my eyes. All the questions I haven’t asked myself rush through me. Does he think about her when he’s holding me? Does he long for her body the way he seduces mine? Does his heart flutter at the sound of her name?
Would he be willing to do anything and everything just to see her smile?
The itch scratches at the back of my mind. My body knows what it needs to make this feeling go away. One sip. That’s it. Just one tiny sip and everything would be okay.
Stay strong, Matteo.
“I love you too,” she says, voice cracking at the end as tears spring in her eyes. “Isn’t that enough to make this work? If we still love each other, why can’t we just move past this.”
“I…”
“Is there someone else?”
I hold my breath as everything in me stiffens. Maybe… Maybe this is it. That stupid hopeful spark sprouts in my gut as I sit up straight. I know we haven’t spoken about it the way I wanted to, but perhaps we’re on the same page. If he loves me, he’ll say yes. If he wants to be with me, he’ll admit it. There could be better ways of doing it, but this is his chance.
To see me. To validate me. To make me feel special.
“No.”
And once again there’s nothing but pain. The lie slips out of his mouth so easily, without any hesitation, and it makes me feel so… dirty. Used. Like I’m his whore in the worst way possible, someone he was just passing the time with. Like I mean nothing to him.
Like everything between us was just as big of a lie as the secret we’ve kept.
When she sighs in relief and squeezes his hands, smiling widely, I realize that I can’t take this anymore. I can’t just sit here and watch the man I love reassure his wife that everything between them is okay. I don’t know what’s going on inside Theo’s head, he might just be trying to appease her, but it hurts too much to even watch him try.
I wanted him to hear her out. I wanted him to have one last shot to see that I was the right choice. I wanted him to choose me with a clear conscience.
Just one sip.
“So, do you think you’ll consider Cheyenne like we talked about?”
Wait, what?
I snap my head at Theo and see him looking at me from the corner of his eye. They… They’ve talked about moving? And he didn’t say anything?
This is all too much. He still loves her, he denied being with me, and he’s going to leave and take my tattered heart with him.
I can’t do this.
“I think that’s all the time we have left for today,” I say quickly, standing up as I adjust my collar. “You’ve made excellent progress, I think.”
“Oh, so soon?” Clara asks, genuinely disappointed as she reaches for her purse. “Maybe we could go just a bit longer?—”
“I think this is a good place to leave off,” I cut her off, gesturing for them to stand and leading them to the door. “You two… You should talk about this more. Discuss it.”
“Father,” Theo begins, and I hate how that sounds. I also hate how detached he is, the distance between us, and the fact he might not know how much my heart aches for him. “Um, thank you.”
I suck in a deep breath as Clara walks out the door with Theo lingering at the threshold. “Take care.”
“Tonight?” he whispers, looking over his shoulder. “We need to talk.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“But—”
“Theo, honey, are you coming?”
He looks over his shoulder again and I use that opportunity to gently push him through the door. “Go to your wife, Theo. I… I need some…” I can’t finish my sentence because I don’t know what I need.
That’s a lie. I do.
I know exactly what I need.
“Matteo—”
I close the door in his face, leaning against the wood. I drop down to my knees, hands braced against my face as I let out the sob I was keeping in. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have thought that he would ever choose me? I should never have entertained that notion, gotten myself clinging to a daydream, to a promise of something that would never be.
How could I have forsaken my vow for this ?
I sob, gut-wrenching until my stomach hurts and my eyes dry out. My feet move unconsciously, dragging me up, and marching me out of the church. I grab my coat on the way out as I walk toward Main Street, noting the people passing by. They all smile and greet me, but I’m too determined to stop and make polite conversation.
Do it.
I have to.
It’ll make you feel better .
I know it will.
The bell dings when I enter the General Store. It’s empty save for Earl behind the counter. He immediately smiles when he sees me, waving me over. “Father! Good to see you! What are you looking for today.”
“I…”
One last chance to stop. One last chance to control myself. One last chance…
Of course I love you.
“I’m looking for a drink.”
He nods and gestures to the back of the store. “Nice. I just got a new shipment of wine. The red is nice and smooth. It?—”
I clear my throat, dropping my voice to a whisper. “I’m looking for something a bit stronger than wine.”
He raises a brow. “Now, Father, you know I can’t sell that here.”
I huff. “How badly do you want confession on Tuesdays?”
He chews on his bottom lip, looking over my shoulder at the empty store. With a grumbled curse, he reaches behind the counter and produces a bottle of whiskey. “How many?”
I breathe a sigh of relief, the brown liquid calling to me, practically making me salivate. “As many as you have.”
He chuckles, bringing out five more bottles and a paper bag. “Having a party?”
“Something like that,” I mutter, reaching for my wallet.
“Can we keep this between the two of us?” he questions, cutting his hand between us. “Don’t want word getting out that I’m breaking the law.”
“It’s our secret.”
Another secret. Just as dangerous and tempting as the one I’ve been entangled in for months. But like that secret, I can’t resist the call any longer.
I just can’t.
Just one sip. That’s it.
Then why am I buying five bottles?
I pay quickly and take the paper bag from him, promising that my door will be open on Tuesday and that I’ll be in the booth waiting.
And when I get to the rectory, I try to wash the day off me. I stand in the shower, praying for my God to speak to me, begging Him to help me like He has before, pleading for mercy.
Silence.
And when I take the first sip?—
Relief.