2. Matthew
2
MATTHEW
B uzz. Buzz.
“Mr. Adams,” a voice beckoned from the speaker, so I went over to the intercom in the kitchen and pressed the button.
“Yes, Louisa?” She was the concierge for my apartment complex.
“Mr. Adams, Miss Charlotte is here to see you. Can I send her up?”
“It’s Charlie!” I heard Charlotte arguing in the background.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. I wasn't expecting her, but Charlie always did the unexpected. “Yes, send her up,” I said, heading back into my room to continue getting ready.
I quickly walked into my closet and pulled the freshly pressed shirt off the hanger. I stood in front of the full-length mirror in only my white tee and boxers. As I took a deep breath, my arms caught my attention.
Arms that were once filled with scars. Now they were covered with swirls of ink. I traced the patterns with my fingertips, allowing myself a moment to relive the memories tied to the images and faint lines. Each one told a story of a chapter I wished I could forget, but couldn’t. It was all a part of who I was and who I longed to be.
I had trained myself to resist the urge to cringe as I looked at the barely-there scars, but there was no denying that they were there. Every bit they faded, they became more ingrained into who I was. I felt the weight of them with every step I took. The invisible scars of life left a deeper cut than the superficial ones.
I let my hands fall to my side, snapping myself out of my daze. Charlie would come bursting through the door any minute, so I slipped on my dress shirt and pants. Walking over to the dresser, I grabbed my Rolex, a gift from my adoptive father, Wyatt, from ten years prior.
I flipped the watch over and scowled when I looked at the engraving. You are the creator of your own destiny.
If only ten years ago, I had grasped the severity of what accepting the watch truly entailed. Receiving the watch set all the chaos that had become my life in motion.
All I could do was observe. There was no stopping or getting off the train.
Life doesn’t allow for do-overs. No use pretending it did.
I shook my head, trying to clear my head of events from the past. No good could come of dwelling on things that couldn’t be undone.
I secured the watch on my wrist and glanced at the time. Holden was supposed to be meeting me in ten minutes, but I knew I had to make time for Charlie. If I didn’t, the sixteen-year-old would find some way to get into trouble. She was a danger magnet after all.
The elevator door opened and there stood Charlie, complete with nose piercing, crop top, and raccoon eyeliner. The embodiment of a rebel without a cause.
I rolled my eyes. “Hello, Charlotte.” I stressed her full name, making fun of her and her distaste for being called by it.
Charlotte was my foster sister. She had been in my life since she was two years old. After all these years, I held up my promise to keep in touch with her.
“Oh not you too, smartass!” Charlie punched my shoulder playfully.
“Watch your mouth!” I scolded, still having that big brother instinct after all these years.
Rocky hurried out of the bedroom, barking as soon as he heard Charlie’s voice. He jumped on her in greeting.
“Ugh, get your mutt off of me!” Charlie swatted the dog away, moving behind the kitchen island so it could be a barrier between her and my dog.
I whistled and proceeded to give Rocky a treat from the glass canister on the counter. I inherited him, more or less, from an old friend, Beau who had passed away eight years prior.
“He’s been through a lot. Give him a break,” I defended the dog.
“He’s lucky you found him after Beau died,” Charlie remarked, grabbing a handful of chocolates off the counter.
My first few years after joining my father’s company, Adams Point Financial, were filled with nonstop traveling. I spent more time adjusting to time zones than doing work it seemed. Eventually I was stationed in the New York office.
Upon traveling to my family’s New Jersey home, I found a frail-looking Rocky in the middle of the road. Beau was “home-challenged,” aka homeless, but he always took care of his pet first, so I found it odd that Rocky was alone. Once I got out of the car to help the dog, I discovered my friend’s body.
“I’m the lucky one.” I huffed, remembering things that haunt me. Dogs really were man’s best friend.
Truth was, my parents disapproved of me taking in the dog, let alone insisting they pay for Beau’s burial. Liz, my adoptive mother, had just had heart surgery and tried guilting me into giving the dog to a shelter. But the once passive and agreeable Matthew was nowhere to be found, so I refused to comply.
I snorted, thinking back on the manipulation tactics my parents used. I should have spoken up more often.
Maybe I wouldn’t be so miserable today. Sure, I had a job any guy my age would kill for. I had an apartment overlooking Park Avenue. I had friends, two luxury vehicles, and money from my trust fund gifted to me when I turned twenty-one. I even had Rocky and Charlotte. But when people asked me if I was happy, I couldn’t answer honestly because in fact I wasn’t. In reality, I was the furthest from it. The last time I was happy was with her .
I usually followed my parents’ orders with little to no resistance. My life was planned out for me even prior to getting adopted. All that was expected of me was to follow orders.
Buzz. Buzz.
“Fuck!” I muttered then looked at Charlie sheepishly. “Don’t be like me!”
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Charlie said with a shit-eating grin on her face.
I walked over to the intercom. “Yes?”
“Mr. McAlistar is here to see you. Shall I send him up?” Louisa alerted through the speaker.
“Yes, send him up.” I walked over to the dining room chair, grabbed my suit jacket, and proceeded to put it on. Once in front of the hall mirror, I adjusted it and fastened the button.
As I ran my fingers through my short hair, I got irritated. I used to get annoyed with my wild, long hair. Now I couldn’t miss the mess more.
“You look handsome! Where are you going? Hot date? On a Tuesday in the middle of the afternoon?” Charlie droned on and on, flipping through a magazine she’d grabbed from off the table.
“No,” I chided, giving her a pointed look, not liking her jokes. Charlie knew full well that I didn’t have a date. The only person I ever wanted to date ran away from me almost ten years ago to the day.
Charlie rolled her eyes for the fifteenth time in five minutes. If eye-rolling were a sport, Charlotte would have a gold medal.
The elevator doors opened, and a booming voice called out, “Yo Matt, I told you we couldn’t be late. Do you seriously want my balls to get cut off? Some of us want to be able to enjoy using them from time to time.” Holden gave me an incredulous look when I didn’t move any faster.
Holden was a friend of mine from prep school. He had transferred to Saint Joseph’s shortly after my adoption. His carefree and lighthearted demeanor was a much-needed reprieve when I was missing my old life. Holden’s dad was a marine biologist and traveled constantly, and his mother had passed away when he was younger so we had bonded over our childhood wounds.
“Seriously! He was primping, and I asked him if he was going on a date,” Charlotte added, bursting into a fit of laughter. Holden joined right in. Charlotte and Holden loved ganging up on me. It had become a favorite pastime since they’d met years ago.
“Both of you, shut up! God you’re worse than old women!” I shook my head, pouring Rocky more food and gesturing toward the door. “I’m ready.”
“Can I stay and chill while you’re gone?” Charlie batted her eyelashes.
“Fine, but don’t forget to set the alarm for the elevator when you leave. I don’t want Rocky getting out.”
Charlie nodded and said her goodbyes to Holden and me, and we headed for the elevator.
“You know when I asked you to meet my girlfriend for lunch, I expected you to be a little happier for me.” Holden huffed as the elevator doors shut.
Holden and I were lucky enough to remain close after high school. We both attended Princeton, but because of my internship and constant traveling, Holden was able to have the proper college experience whereas I had responsibilities and a dress code. Now Holden had been working at Adams Point for about two years, and adopting a boring 9-5 had become taxing on his lighthearted persona. We were like brothers, and even fought like such.
We walked through the lobby of the building before entering a town car that my parents insisted on me using while in the city. Cabs and the subway were not efficient and were frankly just beneath them, and owning a car in the city was more hassle than anything else. After we were both settled in our seats, the driver took off into the bustling traffic of NYC.
“I am happy for you, man! I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind.” I looked down at my phone, fiddling with a to-do list.
“Come on, I hope Maya isn’t sending you nudes again. I’ll have no appetite for lunch,” Holden remarked, making gagging sounds.
“Fuck, between you and Charlie, can you guys stop worrying about my dating life?” Or lack thereof.
“Matthew, I say this to you from a place of love, but all this pent-up sexual frustration isn’t good for you and isn’t good for your mental health,” Holden said matter-of-factly.
Ever since I insisted on Holden applying to Adams Point, we became even closer. I was always schooled on the importance of image whereas Holden slept with as many women as possible, trying to prove himself and his status. Until recently when he met the woman of his dreams.
“What, did you read that on a fortune cookie or something?” I quipped, not in the mood for life advice.
I was tired of pretending that I was satisfied with the way my life was turning out. I might have only been twenty-eight years old, but I was already miserable and hated the feeling of having my entire life carved out for me.
“No—see these are the perks of dating an older woman. My woman might be thirty-eight but she not only owns the hottest restaurant, she doubles as the chef. She’s also so fucking wise. I’m a wealth of knowledge because of her,” Holden boasted. “That and she’s a firecracker in bed. The body she hides under that chef’s coat—” He kissed his fingertips. “Chef’s kiss. You know she does this thing?—”
“Enough! Thank you, but I’m good. You might like women a decade older than you, but it’s not my style.” I put my hands up, innocently.
“Best three months of my life. You just don’t know what you’re missing,” Holden grumbled.
But in fact, I knew exactly what I was missing, and I missed her every day.