Page 286 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 10
I wasn’t sure why, but hearing his voice made tears pool in the corners of my eyes. When would this stop hurting? When could we go back to just being us again?
“I’m a little busy right now,” he said. “Can you maybe call back later?”
He did that a lot. Avoided talking to me. But I needed to have this conversation. I think we both did.
I cleared my throat. “What are you doing?”
“Fixing up an apartment.”
“Your apartment? Or someone else’s?”
“Mine I guess. I’m living here right now. But I’m not staying.”
“Why?”
There was a long pause before he responded. “It’s…too loud.”
It seemed like every time I called Matt, he was moving to a new apartment in New York.
“I’ve been seeing a therapist,” I said. It was a weird segue. But I didn’t think there was a good way to bring this up.
Another long pause. “That’s good.”
We’d grown apart. But I knew he still cared about me. Just like I cared about him. “Sometimes it’s good to talk about stuff.”
“I’m not going back to therapy,” Matt said.
That wasn’t what I was saying. “I just meant that if you ever want to talk about her, I’m here.” I didn’t need to say who. He’d know who I was talking about.
The power drill sounded again. And he didn’t respond.
Matt had gone to therapy for a while after her death. I knew this was a sore subject. But… “I just need you to know that I’m here,” I said again.
“Last time I checked, you weren’t in New York.”
“I’m teaching in Delaware now. You could visit. Rob’s visiting soon too. Maybe a change of scenery would be good for you. A fresh start somewhere outside the city.”
“Her grave is here.”
I swallowed hard. I got that. I’d visited it a few times when I moved back to the city after graduating. There were always flowers on her grave. And I knew Matt left them. But if he thought leaving the city meant leaving her, he was wrong. He needed to keep living. But I knew he didn’t want to hear that from me.
“Look, James, I really am busy. If there’s nothing else…”
It was a Saturday afternoon and he was holed up in some apartment he hated. Missing her. I knew he was missing her. That’s why he kept moving. Perpetually searching for a home when he’d never find it. Because she was his home.
“I miss her too,” I said.
“Don’t.”
We’d made a pact not to talk about her until Matt was ready. But if her death ate at me this much, I couldn’t imagine what it was doing to him. He couldn’t keep living like this.
I took a deep breath. “And I’m sorry. For everything. For the part I played.”
“I know.” He sighed. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
He wouldn’t talk to me or any of our friends. And he wouldn’t talk to a therapist. So who was he going to talk to?
“I’m here when you’re ready.”
