Page 96 of Keep Me
“Who ordered the penne pasta?” The waiter came in just in time, and that tip I gave the restaurant over the phone clearly helped with getting the order rushed through.
“I did.” That was the last thing I said before plowing through my meal and trying to make this evening end as soon as possible.
Chapter 21
As I pushed the green beans across my plate, the heaviness of attending this dinner seeped into my bones. The anger and resentment on this table was thick. Matty’s dad was belligerent, but blaming it on the alcohol like Matty did felt too kind. I clearly didn’t have the full picture, but Matty constantly needing to defend himself didn’t feel right either.
His father berated him at any opportunity, and Matty could never win. Everything he did was scrutinized and thrown back in his face like it was a deliberate slight against Ben. Why he left. Why he never came back. Why his mom deteriorated toward the end. It was always Matty’s fault.
Meanwhile, my confident and goofy friend was a shadow of himself. Matty just sat there like an abused dog and took all the insults his father threw his way. He was so used to being let down by that man that he took it. He was never the loudest person in the room, but his demeanor tonight explained a hell of a lot more about his situation than I could have anticipated.
Matty was trapped in his own guilt and misery because his father couldn’t deal with his own.
“Oh, Brittany,” Ben said brightly. “Did Ben ever tell you about the time he tried out to be a quarterback?”
I looked over at Matty’s dad, reluctant to engage but feeling like I had no other option. It would no doubt be another story about how pathetic he thought Matty was. I was tired of it. Yes, Matty had made mistakes, but he was loyal, committed, and the smartest man I knew. If Ben couldn’t see that, that was his problem. Matty didn’t need to change, and I never wanted him to either.
“His arms were like noodles, and he could barely throw a pass five yards.” Matty’s dad chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “He’d throw, and every single time without fail, the ball would trickle to the ground.”
Once again, Matty didn’t respond. He took his dad’s words at face value.
I hated this.
I hated sitting here listening to the man of my dreams get cut down. He might have fucked up with Olana, but at no point did he give up on me. Could I say the same thing?
No.
I’d given up on Matty the minute Olana rubbed her belly in front of me. I was watching my best friend slowly cower into himself and doing nothing about it. Matty’s past was crippling his future, only now realizing why he was so hell-bent on pushing Olana away.
“Honestly, I don’t even know why he thought he’d be good enough to play football. The kid has the coordination of a newborn giraffe and the knobbly knees to match.”
Looking between them, my heart hurt. Matty deserved more, and I couldn’t stay silent.
I unclasped my hand from Matty’s and dropped my fork to the side. Then I wiped both of my palms on the napkin on my lap to give myself a little time to gain composure.
“Mr. Mathieson,” I said calmly. Then I wet my lips. “With all due respect, your son is—”
“Excuse me.” The waiter from earlier stepped into the room. “Your other guest has arrived.”
Other guest?
I looked at Matty, but as usual, he was staring at his empty plate like it held the answers to all of life’s problems.
“Matty,” I whisper-shouted, and he lazily drew his head up. Then my heart broke.
His eyes. So much pain was hidden behind them, and all I wanted to do was get him out of there and tell him that none of this mattered. All I wanted was him.
“Don’t listen to him,” I whispered. Although I heard the footsteps of the new guest walking in, the only person important enough for all my attention was Matty.
“Kind of hard not to when everything he’s saying is right.”
“Well, isn’t this a lovely surprise?” Ben wasn’t a good actor; he didn’t sound surprised at all. He sounded like someone who had gotten everything he’d wanted. When I looked up and saw Olana standing there impeccably dressed in a large scarf covering what I could only assume was her now burgeoning bump, I wanted to vomit.
“Mr. Mathieson.” Olana came walking in, not even giving us a second glance. The only person she was focused on was Ben. Matty pushed his chair back, taking his ex in, and I felt like cowering in a corner.
This couldn’t be happening.
Why was she always there?
