Page 39 of What Broke First
Chapter 21: Matt’s Miscalculated Interrogation
Matt wasn’t technically stalking. He was... observing. Protectively. From a distance. With binoculars.
Okay, he was stalking.
It had started when Emily let it slip that “Mommy met a nice man with a shiny belt and smelled like Target candles.”
And then Tommy followed up with, “He brought her a plant. I think it was alive.”
Which, to Matt, translated directly into: “My replacement is here, he’s better at everything, and he probably flosses twice a day.”
So Matt did the logical thing. He drove by Sarah’s house “just to see if the porch light was on.” Then he circled the block. Twice. Then he sat in his car with a lukewarm coffee and contemplated texting her something casual like, Hey, I’m spiraling. Want to talk?
Instead, he went with nothing. Which, surprisingly, made it worse.
The next morning, Matt showed up early for kid pickup, wearing cologne and a shirt he hadn’t worn since “Pre-Lily Respectability.”
He stood on the porch rehearsing a line about co-parenting and boundaries, but before he could knock, the door opened.
And there he was. Jordan.
Smugly handsome.
Casual slacks.
That damned plant was still alive. “Oh,” Jordan said, not unkindly. “You must be Matt.”
Matt smiled too wide. “You must be the guy who thinks pothos means personality.”
Jordan blinked. “Sorry?”
Matt shook his head. “Nothing. Just great to meet you. Heard a lot.”
Sarah appeared behind Jordan, still in her robe with a coffee in hand. “Matt. You’re early. We haven’t even packed the lunchboxes yet.”
Matt blinked. “Yeah, I thought I’d beat traffic.
Jordan, sensing the awkward fog forming, gave Sarah a polite nod. “I just came by to drop off your scarf. You left it in my car last night.”
“Oh, right. Thanks.” She took the scarf from his hand and gave him a grateful smile. “I’ll call you later?”
“Please do,” he said, brushing her arm gently as he left.
Matt’s eye twitched. Relief hit him like a silent gut punch. So Jordan hadn’t spent the night. He hadn’t been here, sprawled out on Sarah’s couch, sipping coffee from Matt’s old favorite mug. He hadn’t tucked Emily’s hair behind her ear or made pancakes with Tommy. For now, that space, their space, was still untouched by someone else’s morning.
Inside, the kids were putting on their shoes. Sarah crossed her arms. “Want to explain the creepy van outside?”
“It’s called a Honda Pilot. And I was just... thinking.”
“About?” Matt hesitated. “About how you’re dating a guy who owns indoor plants and probably irons his jeans.”
She stared at him. “So you’re jealous.”
“No. I’m... cautious.”
“Right. Because you’re famously cautious with women.”
“Touché.” Matt sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
