Page 52 of The Playboy's Playbook

“Hey, Luke!”

He turns back to me, as if he knows what I’m about to ask. I know I shouldn’t, but the smallest part of me wants to know. “How is he?”

Luke paints an equally sad smile on his bearded face. “He misses you.”

I nod and he turns back to his truck, strapping Clay and Jen into their car seats. He nods at me before he gets into the driver’s seat and backs out of my driveway. I take the flowers and place them in one of the empty vases next to the bouquet Matthew had delivered the other day.

I open the gift bag and I feel the tears fall. I open the small box and pull out a case of pink gel pens.

He held his promise.

I tuck the pens back inside and take the card from the bottom of the bag. I wipe my face and open the envelope.

The boys wanted you to have blue pens, but I told them pink was your favorite color. Jen kicked me in the shins and Clay called me a dinglebop. I’d go through that again for these pens and ten times over for you, baby.

Matty

I let out a laugh because I can imagine Matthew standing in the middle of the aisle in the store arguing with Clay and Jen over the color pen to get. Something so simple brings joy to me and lights up my world just a little bit. I turn the card over and see there’s more words written on the back.

P.S. Auntie Lala, here’s my favorite seashell. It helps me feel better when I’m sad.

Love, Clay

P.S.S. Auntie Lala, I kicked Uncle Matty cuz Daddy said he hurt your feelings and not cuz he told us no blue pen.

Love, Jen

I pull out the seashell that was tucked under the tissue paper and I drop to my knees in a fit of sobs.

I would have never thought that I would fall in love with Matthew Foster. As soon as I kissed him at Waffle House, I knew that things were different.

And the sad part about all of this?

I’d do it again, ten times over.

Chapter Twenty-Five

MATT

Iwalk into the restaurant and scan the area. I received a surprising text message to meet at Waffle House at eleven. I dressed casually, jeans and a polo shirt.

I can’t remember the last time I wore a polo shirt, but today felt fitting to wear one. I needed to look my best, to give off the impression that everything is alright in my life, when in actuality, everything is shit.

“Matty?” the soft voice of a woman says.

I turn in the direction of the voice and am met with a familiar face that I haven’t seen in years. I walk to the booth my mom occupies and scoot in the seat.

“Hi mom.”

My mom is quiet as she studies my face. Hannah has our dad’s features, a long face and slender nose – the only thing she inherited from my mom was her curly blond hair.

I’m my mom’s twin through and through. Bright blue eyes, blond hair with hints of brown, and tanned skin. Looking at my mom, I can see that the years have flown by.

She has more wrinkles framing her eyes and deeper laugh lines. Her hair has small streaks of white, but she’s still a beautiful woman.

“It’s so good to see you, Matty,” my mom says, a sad smile on her face.

“I’m sorry it took this long, mom.” I lace my hands together in my lap and look down.

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