“I should hope so, you decorated.” He gave a half smile.
She looked away and to the bed. Suddenly feeling very nervous.
“If you need anything, I’ll just be in the next room.”
Her brows snapped together. “Next room?”
He pulled himself away from the side of the door and approached her. His voice lower. “Yeah, I just want you to be comfortable. But please come get me if you need anything.” He placed his hands over her shoulders.
“Thank you.” Although she was grateful for his hospitality, and slightly relieved from the pressure she was feeling a few moments ago, she couldn’t help but admit her disappointment.
He gave her a small smile. “Good night,” he said, before dimming her light slightly and disappearing into the dark hallway.
Chapter 13
MATT
The smoky aroma of coffee filled the kitchen. Matt didn’t care for coffee too much, but Liz couldn’t get through a morning without one. With the spacious kitchen and abundant cabinet space, Liz had reserved one for different types of coffee. Smooth, hard, Columbian, French Roast, it was always there and somehow constantly running low. He poured about half a cup for himself, tossed in one cube of sugar and pulled out a spoon from the drawer. The clinking of the metallic utensil triggered an image.
Liz standing behind the counter at his parent’s beach house. She stirs her coffee lightly and dazes into the cup. Her eyes red and distant. She avoids his stare.
Matt shook the image from his head as Liz walked into the kitchen.
“Hi.” Her voice was flat and her features couldn’t be read.
“Good morning.” He managed to smile. Although he deathly missed hers. He pulled away from the counter. “Uh…I made coffee.”
“Okay.” She glanced at the second mug sitting by the machine.
He poured her a steamy cup and she took it.
“How did you sleep?” A question she had to guess he’d ask.
“It was very comfortable. Thank you.” She glanced around uneasily. “But you know I can stay in the guest room if you’d prefer to sleep in your own bed.” She shrugged. “I mean it doesn’t make a difference to me.”
He couldn’t understand why, but her words hurt him. As if she didn’t even want to try. He shook it off. “I think it would be good for you to sleep in your bedroom. You don’t have to think of it as our room. At least not yet,” he added.
“Thank you.” She nodded once. But the look on her face suggested she was simply being polite.
She’s probably wondering why you don’t want to sleep with her.
The sour look on her face cut into his thoughts.
“Ugh. Coffee must be your thing,” she grimaced, pouring the rest out into the sink. “Do you have any tea?”
He didn’t correct her. It wasn’t his mission to point out the differences between his Liz and post-accident Liz. Contrary to what the doctor had told him, he thought it’d be too soon to start guiding her to who she is and what she liked. If she preferred tea, she’d be getting tea.
He carried their breakfast to the balcony, where, although small, fit a round table and two chairs comfortably. They didn’t have many plants out there since most of their view was a forest of trees, plants and grass. Instead, they filled the space with pottery and a few outdoor fixtures.
“So how did we meet?” she asked after a few small bites of her eggs. She tried to sound casual, but Matt could tell she was curious about their relationship, and how it began. And if he had to guess, why they were married.
Matt glanced at her and then put his fork down, reaching for his mug. They used to love telling the story of how they met to anyone who asked. About a week ago, it had become a story he almost wished had never happened.
Almost, he admitted.
He searched for a short and simple answer, or something that would satisfy her perfectly justified need for one. He couldn’t bring himself to go into the endless details that made up who they were together and why they fell in love.
“We met in grad school,” he said quickly, gazing out into the distance past the high green trees. “We lived in the same apartment complex, which was basically a dorm for rent.” He turned to her with a tilt of his head and a raised eyebrow. “You and I happened to bump into each other one too many times, and…here we are.”
