Page 85 of Breaking Matt
"Why can't you tell me?" I asked, needing to know his reasoning.
"Telling you will just worry you."
I frowned with my hands still firmly on my hips. "He is doing something really dangerous, isn't he?"
"I'm not going to tell you." He shrugged. I couldn't make him tell me.
I debated whether to ask my father but I decided against it. Maybe Mark was right—the less I knew the better.
"Will you at least let me know when it's over?" I bit my lip, feeling nervous.
He nodded. I made the move to leave the kitchen. My appetite was gone.
"Sarah." I turned back to look at Mark. "He knows what he's doing. He'll be fine."
"Then why did you tell him it wasn't a good idea?"
He shrugged. "It's a big risk."
That didn't make me feel any better.
I spent the rest of the day feeling restless. Nothing seemed to be able to keep my attention. And going outside wasn't an option.
Every time I caught a glimpse of the pool or the pool house, I was reminded of the last time I'd been there with Matthew, and the feeling of despair I'd experienced when he'd walked out on me haunted me.
That night I didn't sleep at all. I tossed and turned. For some time I stared up at the ceiling and thought about Matthew.
Being at the point where he couldn't stand the sight of me, I thought back to the very decision that had caused it. But no matter how much it hurt I knew if I could do it again I would make the same decision. Keeping him safe had trumped anything else.
But he is in danger again and you're in your bed, safe and sound.Finally resigning myself to the fact that I wasn't going to get any sleep, I swung my legs over the side of my bed and got up.
It was four in the morning and still dark outside. I went downstairs and made myself a cup of coffee. While I drank it I watched the sun rise. I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen but there was nothing I could do about it. I was desperate enough to consider calling him to tell him not to go through with it. Besides, I couldn't figure out what he was going to do to sort this situation out.
I rinsed my coffee cup and put it next to the sink. I leaned against the counter and kept my eyes fixed on the time. Feeling tired and anxious I went upstairs to take a shower, hoping the task would help pass the time.
The house was quiet when I went back downstairs. I went to the living room and switched the TV on, needing it to distract me.
When Mark walked in later, I sat up.
"You going to be jumpy all day?" he asked, sitting down in the single seat beside the sofa.
"Yup," I said.
"Try and not think about it," he suggested.
"Easy for you to say. You know what he's going to do. You think not telling me is helping me, but trust me, my imagination is a lot worse."
Feeling like I was being twisted into a knot, I stood up and began to pace.
Then I remembered the address Matthew had rattled off to my father. I left Mark and went upstairs to check it. Inside my room, I opened up my laptop. I keyed the address in and hit enter.
It showed up on a map. The office building was only a half hour's drive from the house. I frowned as I stared at the street view of it, but there was no sign or name on the outside.
Frustrated, and with the worsening feeling that something bad was going to happen, I dropped my face into my hands.Please let him be okay.
It didn't matter if he didn't love me anymore and he left me. At least he would be okay.
I bit my nails, needing a way to deal with my rising stress. I watched the time. Seconds ticked by and minutes passed but it felt like the time was dragging by. By eleven I was pacing in the kitchen, constantly glancing at the clock.
