Page 22 of Wish You Once More
Mat waited while I tidied up, then I called Bryan to come and collect the takings. He was going to look after the cash and card machine overnight before bringing them back in the morning.
“Everything okay? Any issues?” he questioned arriving in super quick time.
I passed him the bag. Given I hadn’t bothered him with anything since he covered my break, I didn’t think he needed to ask. But I humoured him anyway.
“No, all good. I think we’ve done quite well today.”
“Darla mentioned something similar. I’m glad the weather held as well.” He glanced up at the sky, still fairly clear and sparkling with stars then between Mat and me. “You two have a nice night. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bree.”
Then it was Mat and me. Alone. He held my beer while I closed the canvas doors on the marquee, only stepping in to help at the last minute when I couldn’t quite reach the top closure.
“Here. Hold these.”
Our fingers brushed as he passed me the plastic pint glasses. The familiar shockwaves coursed down my spine. Conflicting voices argued in my head, saying how wrong and how right it felt at the same time.
I was giving him the chance to explain, nothing more.
If only I could force myself to believe it.
We walked out of the Dart Sundowner enclosure and into the street.
“Where do you want to go?” asked Mat.
Such a loaded question. I didn’t want him in the flat, I didn’t want to go back to his Dad’s or his brother’s house, and I certainly didn’t want to go to wherever Scott was staying.
“We can walk?” I suggested. Keeping moving was a good plan.
A few people milled around the streets in town, either heading home or to the one bar which stayed open past eleven in the evening. None of them gave us a second look as we strolled along the pavement, plastic cups of beer in our hands.
“How are you?” Mat asked.
The question wasn’t one I expected. One I wasn’t sure how to answer.
Taken out of context, he could simply be asking how work was, how life in general treated me, but I sensed something deeper behind it. After all, this was the first proper conversation we’d had in years.
I stopped, stock still in the middle of the path. It took him a couple of steps to realise and turn back to face me.
“Honestly, I’m confused Mat.” I drained the remainder of my beer, needing it to help me say what I wanted to. “One day we were fine, making plans for our future, then the next you were telling me you’re going to America with the band. That Scott said you had to.” Even saying the words out loud made my chest contract. The anger I’d felt at the time reared its head again. Anger directed at Mat, Scott, anyone associated with Trash Gun.
He dropped his half-empty cup on the ground and stepped towards me. His hands gripped my upper arms, his face inches from mine, those molten chocolate pools gazing directly into my soul.
My breath hitched. I hated how he still affected me so much just with one single touch.
“I had to go with the band. I had to have a chance at a future. I had to do it for my family.” His voice was almost a whisper as he rushed the words out. “The business was months from bankruptcy. Dad and Jonny couldn’t cope with the deeper financial trouble they were getting into, after a shitty summer of bookings and seemingly nothing in the pipeline. There was a decent pay-out for me if I went to the States. I couldn’t turn it down.”
I blinked, taking in everything he said.
When Scott had burst into our room in the shared house in Manchester, crowing that they were leaving, I’d felt as if the rug had been pulled from under me. He’d said Mat had picked the band over me, that they didn’t need girlfriends muddying the waters and they needed to go alone. Admittedly, I hadn’t handled his announcement well. I’d distanced myself from Mat almost straight away. At the time I thought Mat had chosen Scott over me, and I decided to go home, leaving my last year of university mid-course. Thinking he didn’t want me had almost broken me, but hearing him speak now, I knew I hadn’t been told the truth.
“Why didn’t you tell me back then?”
Mat’s head dropped; his eyes fixed firmly on the pavement beneath us. “You didn’t give me the chance. You either yelled at me or wouldn’t speak to me. And then you left.”
I screwed up my eyes, tears pricking at the lids.
“I loved you, Bree. I didn’t want to leave you, but I had to save my family.” His gaze lifted and met mine again. “I don’t think I truly ever stopped loving you.”
His admission made me swallow hard. I slid my hands up to cover his, relishing the familiar warmth of his skin. His fingers tangled in mine, pulling me flush against his body.
