Page 25 of To Her

After dinner, Matt stood up and touched my shoulder. "Come out back with me. I need a smoke."

I blinked in surprise. Smoke? I hadn't seen him smoke once, hadn't even caught the scent of cigarettes on him. But then again, I realized with a pang, I hadn't actually spent that much time with him. What did I really know about Matt beyond the physical attraction and the emotional rollercoaster he'd put me on?

He led me outside to a small patio area next to an above-ground pool. The night air was cool against my skin as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and then offered the pack to me.

I hesitated only briefly before taking one. I wasn't a regular smoker, but I wasn't opposed to the occasional cigarette, especially when my nerves were as frayed as they were tonight. The nicotine hit my system with a familiar buzz, helping to settle the anxiety that had been simmering beneath the surface all evening.

"I'm sorry I haven't called," Matt said after a moment, exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air. "I've had so much army stuff to do before I leave, and Mom's been pretty sad about me going, so I've been spending time with her."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak yet. Part of me wanted to confront him, to demand a better explanation for his disappearance, but another part—the part that was still captivated by him despite everything—just wanted to accept his apology and move on.

"She was jobless when we got this place," he continued, gesturing toward the house. "After she left my father. She found work, raised me and my brothers on her own. Even managed to buy this place from the government eventually, though it was a struggle to make the payments until she met George. He loves her, treats her like gold. Treats me like his own, too."

As he spoke, I found myself softening toward him. There was a vulnerability in his voice that I hadn't heard before, a glimpse into the complex person behind the tattooed exterior and inconsistent behaviour. Maybe he wasn't deliberately ghosting me. Maybe he was just someone who got caught up in his own world, who didn't realize how his actions affected others.

Or maybe I was making excuses for him because I didn't want to admit that I'd fallen for someone who couldn't give me what I needed.

"When I go, I'll be gone for three months," he said, turning to face me directly. "But I was wondering... once I'm back and given a base, would you like to join me there? I'm suspecting it'll be up the top of the country, probably somewhere shit, but I would love to get a place with you."

The question caught me completely off-guard. Join him? Move to wherever the army stationed him? After knowing him for barely a week? After he'd already shown he could disappear without a word for days at a time?

"I—" I started, not sure what to say.

But something in his eyes—hope, vulnerability, a genuine desire for me to be part of his future—made me nod instead of voicing the doubts swirling in my mind. What harm would it be to agree at this stage? Life was all about choices, each one leading to new ones. I could always change my mind later if I needed to.

And yet, as the words left my mouth, I felt a strange mix of excitement and dread. Was I setting myself up for heartbreak, or was this the beginning of something real?

After finishing our cigarettes, Matt led me back inside and to his bedroom—a small space dominated by a double bed, with a TV mounted on the wall. We settled onto the bed, his arm around me as he put on some movie that I couldn't focus on. I snuggled into his chest, breathing in his scent, trying to reconcile the man who'd invited me into his family home, who'd asked me to follow him across the country, with the one who could go days without contacting me.

Before long, his breathing had slowed and deepened. He'd fallen asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath my head. I lay there for a while, listening to his heartbeat, feeling both connected to him and strangely distant.

The buzz of my phone from the floor where I'd left it broke the silence. Carefully, so as not to wake Matt, I slipped out of his embrace and retrieved it.

A message from Alex lit up the screen:

I hope you had a fantastic day. I thought about you all afternoon. Your picture is so stunning, and I bet you look even more beautiful in real life.

A wave of guilt washed over me. Here I was, in another man's bed, having just agreed to potentially move across the country with him, while someone else was thinking about me, complimenting me, making an effort to connect.

I stared at the message for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the reply button. It would be so easy to respond, to keep that door open, to have a backup plan for when Matt inevitably disappeared again. Alex seemed attentive, interested, consistent—all the things Matt wasn't.

But something stopped me. Maybe it was the memory of Linda's warm welcome, or the way Matt had opened up about his family, or the fact that despite everything, I still felt drawn to him in a way I couldn't explain. A way that scared me with its intensity.

With a sigh, I locked my phone and placed it back on the floor. Then I climbed back onto the bed, settling against Matt's chest once more. His arm instinctively tightened around me, even in sleep.

I decided not to message Alex back at all. Not yet, anyway. First, I needed to see this thing with Matt through to its conclusion—whatever that might be. I owed myself that much, at least.

As I drifted toward sleep, cradled in the arms of a man who was still largely a mystery to me, I couldn't help but wonder if I was making the right choice. But then again, when had I ever been good at making the right choices when it came to men?

The last thought that crossed my mind before sleep claimed me was that I was playing with fire—and I wasn't sure if I was more afraid of getting burned or of missing out on the warmth.

Chapter 9

Geri

Misery loves company, and I was drowning in it. Matt had ghosted me again—two days of silence, this time after I'd spent the night at his family home, after I'd agreed to potentially move across the country with him, after I'd chosen him.

I'd messaged him. Called him. Left voicemails that grew increasingly desperate, then increasingly angry. Nothing. Radio silence. As if he'd vanished into thin air, taking all his promises with him.

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