Page 3 of What Broke First
She nodded once, slow and deliberate. “So it wasn’t love. Just...a good fuck? How often do you fuck strangers, Matt?
She stared at him for a moment, her eyes flat, then shoved back from the table. The chair legs screeched across the floor. A low sound rumbled in her throat as she tipped her head to the side until her neck cracked. She crossed her arms, holding herself tight, then looked at him again, her gaze steady, heat rising like a warning he couldn’t mistake.
“How long?”
Matt swallowed. “This is the only time. It happened once.”
She arched an eyebrow. “So you ruined our family for once. Good to know you’re efficient.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again. Uselessly.
“Don’t say that! Why do you keep saying that? You’re not sorry you fucked her,” she snapped. Her voice cracked then, the first sign that the real anger was close. “You don’t get to be sorry right now. You get to pack your things. You get to explain to Tommy and Emily why Daddy’s not sleeping in the house anymore. You get to live with this.”
Matt felt a gut punch of guilt. He thought of Tommy, their eight-year-old son, who always looked up to him with such admiration, and Emily, their five-year-old daughter, who adored him unconditionally. He knew he had betrayed them, too.
“I know I’ve hurt you, all of you,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I never wanted to hurt you.”
Sarah dropped her hands, looking at him with a mixture of anger and pain.
“But you did,” she said, her voice steadier now. “You can leave now.”
Matt felt a tear slip down his cheek. “I know,” he whispered. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”
Sarah looked away, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
“I don’t know if you can,” she said finally. “I don’t know if we can ever be right again.”
Matt nodded, swallowing hard. He knew she was right. He had broken something that might never be fixed. But as he looked at her, at the pain etched across her face, he knew he had to try.
Matt stood, panic surging. “Sarah, please...”
She turned her back on him. “I’m serious, Matt. I want you out of this house before they wake up.”
And just like that, he was dismissed. From the table. From the kitchen. From their life.
That night, Matt packed a small bag and stood at the top of the stairs, frozen. Tommy’s door was cracked open, the glow of a night light spilling out into the hallway. He heard the soft sound of breathing. His little boy, still dreaming, still innocent.
He walked past Emily’s room and stopped again. Her stuffed unicorn had fallen to the floor. He wanted to pick it up. He didn’t. His throat burned as he turned away.
He went to Lily’s apartment.
She opened the door, her smile faltering when she saw the strain carved into his face.
“You look wrecked,” she said, catching his hand. Her grip was firm, insistent. “Come inside.”
“I told Sarah,” he said. “I left. And now I’m here, because I don’t know where else to go.”
Once the door shut, she pressed closer, her voice low. “You’re brave, you know that?”
He didn’t feel brave. Not even close.
She pulled him deeper inside, steering him toward the couch with a certainty that didn’t waver. Her eyes flicked over him, hungry.
“You need this,” she whispered. “You need me.”
Matt sank onto the cushions, his body heavy, his mind still stuck in Sarah’s kitchen, her voice dismissing him, Tommy’s night light glowing down the hall, Emily’s unicorn on the floor. His stomach clenched, but then Lily was on her knees, her hands at his belt.
“Lily—” he managed, voice raw.
