Was there? Earlier, Matty had sounded… hopeful? Forgiving? But still, he was hot one minute, then cold the next. Who was to say that even if we got back together, a week, a month, a year down the line, he wouldn’t decide he’d had enough?
Ivy curled up in bed with her stuffed bear tucked tight against her chest—his bear, the one he gave me all those years ago—and Matty sat cross-legged beside her, his voice low and warm as he read from one of her picture books.
She giggled at the funny bits. Interrupted to ask questions. Pointed at pictures like she was reading them too. And Matty answered her every time, patient, affectionate.
She loved him already. That quickly. That completely.
And it was killing me.
I didn’t know how to explain the sharp sting in my chest each time she tugged on his sleeve or begged for his attention. Like part of me was grateful—relieved even—that she was so drawn to someone I loved once. In the span of a few days, she’d given a piece of her heart to Matty like it had always belonged to him.
Maybe some part of her sensed he’d been meant to be here all along. Or maybe she was picking up on how much I still loved this man.
By the time the story ended, Ivy was fast asleep. Matty leaned over, brushing her hair back with the gentlest fingers, and my throat burned. He lifted the sheet and tucked it around her shoulders.
“You should’ve been mine.”
My knees damn near buckled, and my eyes bugged out.
He’d said it so quietly, like the words weren’t meant for anyone. Just a confession to a sleeping child who’d never understand the weight of it.
I stepped back.
He whipped his head around, pinched his lips together.
My heart pounded. Shit. I’d intruded on a private moment he’d been sharing with my daughter. Overheard something I was pretty sure he never meant for me to hear.
Matty stood and turned off the ceiling light. The bedsidelamp glowed faintly in the dark, outlining his shape as he walked toward me.
I backed up, face burning. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
Matty pulled the door closed and took my wrist. He dragged me after him. Not much dragging to be honest, since I went without protest. In the living room, he pointed at the couch.
“Sit.”
So I sat. Back up right. Arms clutched in my lap.
Matty could be intense, and he was at his peak. Other times, I would have found it hot, but my stomach wasn’t being entertained. I wanted to puke. He’d said we needed to talk, and this was it. Could I get the words out properly? Was this the night I would lose him forever?
Maybe that was what I’d been afraid of this whole time. Maybe I’d withheld the truth from him because as long as he didn’t know the full extent of what had happened between Heather and me, I could hang on to the hope that I could still win him back. But if he found out the truth and rejected me, that was it.
Matty didn’t join me on the worn couch where I’d slept for most of my four years of marriage. He paced the area in front of the couch, sending my nerves flying into a tailspin.
I clutched my knees. This was ridiculous. He was six years younger than I was. Why did I give him so much power over me? I could ask him to leave, to stop messing with the routines I’d established over the past four years.
“Did you mean what you said?” My voice was softer than I’d meant it to be, but for the life of me, I couldn’t sound any more assertive. He was the only man who made me feel…delicate, and I was bigger than him. Not by much, but it was there.
Matty abruptly stopped pacing in front of me. His jaw tensed. “Does it matter now? She’s not, is she?”
I flinched. The bite in his words hit harder than I expected. So much for him finally listening.
He ran a hand over his face and groaned. “Sorry. Force of habit. This is…a lot harder than I’d thought.”
“I get that.” I lowered my gaze, disappointment landing hard in my gut. “But you don’t have to do this. You’re not obligated to be here. You don’t have to take any of this on. It’d be easier if you forgot about us.”
Matty grabbed my chin and yanked my head up so I had no choice but to look into his furious, gorgeous eyes. His jaw was clenched, his nostrils flaring. “For fuck’s sake, Hudson, would it kill you to fight for us?”
I blinked once, twice, like the room had tilted sideways. My breath caught somewhere between my chest and throat.
