Page 60 of Pretend for Me

I stood with my hands at my hips, my hair wild from the rain and our lovemaking. I started tapping my foot on the hardwood floor, waiting for a response as Matthew stared at me slack-jawed.

“About that …” He palmed the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously. “I might have forced Bridget to sell it to me,” Matthew admitted sheepishly.

I rounded the corner and stood in front of him, giving him a once-over, chuckling at how quickly he confessed. “Oh that’s all?” I scoffed, raising my hands dramatically. “How did you know I painted it?” I pursed my lips, eyes narrowing, wanting to kiss him but also needing to hear what he had to say.

“I was coming out of the bathroom after lunch with Bridget and Holden, and I looked up and saw these two kids and it reminded me of us, y’know.” Matthew put his hands on my hips, gently squeezing. “I then asked Bridget about it, and she got all nervous saying she didn’t want to get involved. That was when I knew the artist was you. I had to bribe her to sell it to me.”

I looked at him questioningly. “What is she making you do?”

“Invest in this business venture she and Holden are doing. A fucking food truck. Can you imagine?” Matthew shook his head.

I nodded, satisfied with the answer, but I had more questions so I took Matthew’s hand and sat on the bed, motioning for him to sit across from me. He mirrored me, also crossing his legs, waiting until I spoke.

We sat like that for hours going over everything. There were tears, anger, rage, laughs, regrets, but most importantly love and devotion. A raw and candid flow that we had lost somewhere along the way.

Matthew was horrified and disgusted to learn more awful truths about Liz and Wyatt and their atrocious behavior toward me. He vowed to never let me feel inferior again. Matthew was ready to leave and confront Wyatt, but ultimately, he stayed with me, enjoying our reunion.

I fought the urge to cringe as Matthew explained how Wyatt pushed Natalia into his orbit and the meaningless arrangements he’d formed with a handful of women. I couldn’t fault him for looking for companionship—he was insanely attractive and kind and deserved someone who appreciated him. I had done the same with my failed relationships. It just cemented how much time had passed and how our lives had gone on without each other. At the end of the day, he’d always be my first, and since I believed we were real, my last.

We barely scratched the surface of things we needed to recap. It had been ten years after all. But our second chance was here, and there would be more talking, more fights, but we knew we were committed to each other. Everything would work out over time. We would work it out.

I was making pancakes when Matthew wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, caging me in. I turned in his arms, looking at the man I almost let slip away.

Matthew’s hands moved to my hips and guided me to sit down on the counter. He pressed against me, so I could feel how much he wanted me. Always, he reminded me.

It was more than just sex. It was being loved from the inside out, over and over again. Every time better than the last.

Matthew started kissing and sucking on my neck with enough pressure that guaranteed it was going to leave a bruise.

“Again?” I moaned as Matthew nipped at the spot behind my ear that made my toes curl.

Matthew smirked. “We have a decade to make up for.” Pressing his lips to mine, he let his hands roam my body, peeling off the shirt to expose my breasts. He roamed lower and lower, rubbing and pinching, along the way.

“I suppose we do.” I groaned when he stopped to remove his shirt.

Matthewand I had spent the last two days holed up in his apartment, blissfully unaware of the outside world and all the trials and tribulations attached to it.

Audrey clapped her hands together, snapping me out of my love bubble. “Didn’t you guys get enough of each other over the past two days? Poor Rocky, that dog will never be the same,” she quipped, chuckling as she opened the trunk and carefully carried my painting to where we were leaning against the car.

Matthew took it from Audrey, motioning for one of us to open the door to the restaurant.

Once the painting was situated in its new home and Bridget was satisfied, we headed out to the front of the restaurant, ready to get back on the road and made the trek Upstate. Of course, we weren’t able to leave so easily. No, Holden had some crudecomments to share. He ribbed Matthew about how the condoms he kept giving him after some stripper prank must come in handy. Pun intended. Matthew threatened Holden if he kept talking.

Now that we had been intimate, neither one of us could get enough. But the last person I wanted to talk about it with was Holden.

Not surprisingly, we were met with bumper-to-bumper traffic once we were outside of the city. Audrey bit her nails feverishly. The whole car shook as a consequence to her leg shaking.

“Audrey!” I scolded, craning my neck to give her a pointed look. “Please, try to relax. You’re going to have a panic attack.”

I knew this was going to be super emotional for Audrey. Last thing she needed was going into a full panic before getting to the cemetery. Because once Audrey panicked, there was no coming back from it. We needed to be her strength.

“We’re with you every step of the way, Aud,” Matthew reassured, looking intently at the standstill of cars ahead.

Two hourslater and the demise of Audrey’s fingernails, we arrived at the small-town cemetery. The silver wrought iron gates were in a swirled design, the beautiful shrubbery encompassed the property from any onlookers, and all that you could see were tombstones.

It was a beautiful sunny fall day. The air was crisp and clean. The leaves were all different colors, indicating change was near.

Audrey gave her name to the guards, and they proceeded to give Matthew directions to the area we were looking for. A few minutes passed and Audrey spotted the aisle where Oliviarested. Audrey’s hand grasped the car door handle, but she paused when it came time to open it. Tears streamed down her face.

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