Page 23 of Breaking Matt
I was so bad Courtney had nicknamed me "playgirl," her female version of a playboy. I would just shrug my shoulders. I lived my life the way I wanted to without any apologies to anyone. What other people thought didn't matter to me. It didn't matter that girls who were jealous of me called me a slut.
I was so mad at myself. How could I have let him in? But it wasn't like there had been a choice. Caring for someone wasn't a decision you made, it was something that just happened—and by the time I'd realized what was happening it had been too late.
I felt so strongly for him, but I refused to label the feeling. Now I had no idea how to stop the pain and carry on without him. I needed to concentrate on his betrayal every time I felt the hurt—it would be enough to stir up my anger to mask the pain.
It wasn't going to be easy to be around him, but I was convinced it would help me get over him. I was too stubborn to show he'd hurt me, so being around him would make me cover it up with my usual confidence and indifference. If I hid it enough it would eventually disappear and I'd be over him.
That was part of the plan. The other part was ensuring he felt the pain he'd inflicted on me. I wanted him to look at me with longing and remember that his betrayal had cost himme. He would eventually walk away. I knew it—and when he did I would make sure I was the one who was okay and he was the one suffering.
Feeling better now that I'd started to formulate my revenge, I went and had a shower. Once I got changed I was going to leave my room, but then the hurt I'd managed to suppress built up, needing release. I looked to my bed. Feeling tired, I promised myself I would give myself the rest of the day to wallow in self-pity. Tomorrow I would only concentrate on making Matthew's life miserable.
I lay down on my bed and hugged a pillow as I allowed myself to think about him and what we'd shared. It was impossible to remember without tears, and I sniffled silently, not wanting him to hear. He couldn't know I was hurting; he needed to think I was indifferent to him. It was all part of the plan and I had no intention of failing.
Later that eveninghe knocked on my door.
"Are you hungry?" he asked. I glared at the door as I sat up.
"No," I told him.
I couldn't even think of food while I felt like this. The part of me that didn't want him to know I was upset wanted me to pull myself together and leave my room to show him I was "fine," but I didn't care what he thought at the moment.
Tomorrow I would do it. I would get up and get dressed, looking as good and confident as I usually did. I would look at him with indifference and carry on as if anything we'd shared was forgotten, like it had meant nothing to me.
"Are you sure?" he asked and I heard the concern in his voice. It made my stomach tighten and I had to allow my anger to seep through the heartbreak that wanted to hold on to the sound of his voice like a lifeline.
"Yes, Matthew. I'm sure," I told him in a stiff businesslike tone.
Caring made a person weak—and that was how I felt. Weak.
He left me alone for the rest of the night. I assumed he was moving his stuff into the spare room, because I could hear movement around the apartment.
I knew he had two sisters from what he'd told me. But then again I had no idea if even that was true or not. He'd lied, so I had no idea how much he'd actually lied about. It only intensified the depth of his betrayal.
My phone began to ring. It was my mother. I didn't answer like I usually would have. Instead I watched as it continued to ring. I had no idea if my mother had known about Matthew, but I was too raw to deal with it at the moment.
I would deal with my parents tomorrow.
Chapter Seven
That nightI didn't sleep well, but I promised myself it would be the last time I lost sleep over Matthew. The next morning, still feeling tired, I pushed myself out of my bed. Emotions were pushed away as I got ready for class. I put some makeup on to hide the noticeable indications that I hadn't slept well. I didn't want Matthew to know that I had been awake for most of the night. He had to believe I was fine, going on like he had never happened to me. I pulled my dark brown hair into a loose ponytail.
I took a deep breath as I stepped out of my room. Feeling confident, I walked into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee.
Matthew was leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in his hand as I walked into the kitchen. The sight of him made my confidence wobble and the moment his eyes met mine I felt the pain I'd been suppressing seep back to the surface like lava burning a path through me. It was going to be so much harder than I'd thought.
"Do you want coffee?" he offered, and I nodded my head, not wanting to speak. He would hear the hesitation in my voice that would reveal how unsteady I was on the inside.
I needed to be stronger than this. I wasn't weak.
He got a cup out of the cupboard and made me coffee. He knew exactly how I took it, just like I knew how he liked his. Such small things that showed we knew each other better than the business arrangement we'd put into place going forward.
He stirred cream and sugar into my coffee and handed my cup to me. I felt a shiver at the slight touch of his fingers against mine as I took it from him. He watched me as I took a tentative sip. I was trying my best to ignore the pull of him, to remind myself why I was so angry with him. Betrayal.
At the sight of him, I remembered he'd been doing a job while we'd been together, and each time it broke my heart a little more. What made it worse was the fact I'd discovered the lie. I couldn't help thinking it would have been easier to forgive him if he'd come clean, but he hadn't. If there hadn't been a slip-up, how long would he have continued to keep the truth from me? My heart hardened at the thought I'd been played so easily.
Remembering back to the moment that had torn my world apart was hard. Seeing his name in the article, realizing who he was and why he was in my life. It had been like the stable ground beneath my feet had been broken apart with the force of an earthquake, leaving me unsteady.
His betrayal had hit me hard. His secretive phone calls. From the start he'd fooled me completely and I felt like a gullible idiot.
