Page 59 of Fall Into You
“So literally thedayI told him to stay away from you?” His voice is raised, his face angry now. “I thought maybe this was a recent thing.”
“I told you I loved him,” I say in a small voice. “He—he said he loved me. Did you think it’d only been a couple of weeks or what? What did you expect?” My voice is shaking, and I hate it. I should be able to own up to this. I’m a grown woman!
He laughs dryly once. “What did I expect? I expected for my best friend to stay away from my little sister and for none of this to happen.” His voice must have carried upstairs, because Mom and Danielle run to the commotion and stop at the top of the stairs. He looks sad and shocked, and I regret that this hurt him, but I can’t regret Matt. It’s what Vinny’s waiting for, though. He’s waiting for me to say sorry and to promise I won’t see him ever again. But that’s never going to happen.
I exhale. “Listen, I understand that we hurt you. But the fact remains that Matt and I are a real thing. I am really, truly sorry about how this has affected you, and I’m really sorry about how poorly we handled things—which was basically all my fault—but you also need to consider my feelings here, Vinny. I have never been this happy before—at least not since before Dad passed away.” I take a deep breath and say what I know will hurt most, what will seal his anger, but it needs to be said. “You’re just going to have to deal with it.”
“Deal with it?” He stares down at me in anger, chewing on the inside of his mouth, and I’m suddenly terrified that he’s going to start yelling at me, but what happens is worse. Vinny says nothing as he turns around and walks out the door for the second time today.
IT’S LATE,but I had to come by and do a wellness check. He hasn’t answered the phone or any of my texts, and I’ve been extremely concerned. All I got was an, “I’m okay,” an hour ago, but I was already on my way here. I slip the key he gave me just a couple of days ago into the lock and open the door to his apartment.
Matt’s place is minimalistic. It has no paintings or photos hanging anywhere, completely devoid of decoration except for the one succulent sitting in the middle of his coffee table. It’s clean and cold and shows no evidence of any inhabitants whatsoever. I don’t know if it’s because that’s his personal style, or if he just never put the time or effort into it.
I don’t like it very much. It’s cold and generic and a stark contrast to who Matt is. My boyfriend is none of those things. He is loving and inviting and caring and is constantly showing me those feelings through little actions every day.
Vinny was right. I didn’t know what love was until I met Matt. And there is no fucking way I’m letting him go now over some drama my brother will eventually get over.
I walk into the living room and see him sitting on his black leather couch. He looks groggy and exhausted. “Hey, sorry,” I whisper. “Did I wake you?” The TV is on, the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade from earlier today playing on low volume in the background.
He nods and smiles—a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. I guess that’s a good sign?
“What are you doing here?” His voice is low, quiet, gravelly with sleep.
“Oh, sorry. Did you want me to leave?” The pain in my chest is visceral. I wouldn’t blame him for not wanting to see me. It’s my worst fear realized, but after tonight, I totally get it.
“No!” He sits up and winces, one hand flying to the left side of his face and the other to his lower back. “No,” he says again softly, gently settling himself back into his seat. “Was just wondering because it must be really late. Thought you were going to spend the night at your mom’s.”
His voice sounds different, like he can’t open his mouth wide enough to enunciate the words properly. I drop both our bags by the entrance and walk over to the couch, taking a seat next to him. “No way,” I say. “I wanted to see how you were doing—especially after you stopped responding to my messages.”
He grimaces and reaches for my injured hand and cradles it between his, softly running his fingers over the gauze. “Sorry. It’s…” He sighs. “It’s obviously been a day.” It’s the understatement of the century, but he smiles softly. Up close, I can see the difference in size between both sides of his face. I place my other hand gently on his left side, wondering idly how bruised the skin underneath his beard is.
“Should’ve made arrangements for you to get back home,” he says. “So sorry.”
Home.
I shrug and kiss his cheek as softly as possible, barely touching him, his beard tickling my lips. I marvel at the fact that this man is so obviously in pain and distraught over his fight with Vinny, and hestillmanages to be concerned with my well-being. He looks anxious and guilty over the fact that he couldn’t arrange alternative options for my return, and it’s just crazy.
I love him.
And I haven’t even told him yet.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say with a shrug. “I took the last train into the city, and it was fine.”
He nods softly but shrugs. “Still.”
He looks so tired, so…beat up. I’m afraid of touching him, hurting him more. He doesn’t look mobile, and I wonder how long he’s been sitting on the couch for.
“Howareyou?” I ask. He looks stiff with pain.
“Not great.” He shrugs, and I frown. Is that all I’m getting? He’s probably so disappointed in me, so angry. I would be pissed at me too, if I were him. Iampissed at myself. We could have definitely avoided this—at least the fight with Vinny—if I had just agreed to tell my brother when Matt wanted to.
“I’m sorry, Matt. I’m so sorry.” Tears well in my eyes, but I know I don’t deserve his forgiveness right now. Vinny could have really hurt his spine. What if he needs to see a doctor? Plus, if Vinny never forgives him, will he ever forgive me? Will he hold it against me? Technically, he’s the one who broke the rules, though. I didn’t force him. Still, the phrasebros before hoescomes flying into my brain—the golden rule of the bro code.
The freaking bro code.
I don’t think I’ve hated anything more.
He wraps an arm around my shoulders and brings me carefully into him. I do my best not to put too much of my weight on him, not to shake him too much, even though I feel like burying my face in his neck, surrounding myself with his scent, seeking comfort. “Don’t worry,” he whispers.
