Page 49 of What Broke First
They were cold to each other now. Surface-level exchanges, strained nods, polite texts. He’d become a relic in her life, present, but no longer necessary.
And then there was Jordan.
He was everywhere. At the soccer games, in Sarah’s driveway, holding Emily’s hand while she skipped ahead. The guy remembered Tommy’s science project deadline and probably knew which stuffed animal had to be next to Sarah’s pillow for her to fall asleep. He was ingrained now, part of the rhythm.
Matt rubbed his jaw, the familiar ache of frustration simmering beneath his skin. He didn’t hate Jordan, not really. But he hated that someone else had taken up space that used to be his. Space he’d forfeited.
So maybe it was time.
Time to stop hoping for things that might never come back. Time to stop waiting to be chosen again.
He’d throw himself into the work. If nothing else, he could be the kind of partner this company had never seen. Focused, relentless, respected. He would bury the ache under numbers and strategy decks and campaign wins. Maybe the pride he couldn’t feel at home, he could build here.
He closed the laptop, pushed back from the table, and stared out the window at the city lights.
It wasn’t the future he had imagined.
The next morning, he walked into the office, greeted by handshakes, congratulations, and a bottle of champagne from one of the senior partners.
He felt weightless.
A few of the partners pulled him into the conference room for a toast. There were clinks of glasses, jokes about gray hair, and genuine smiles of respect. It was a moment he’d remember for a long time and a much-needed confidence booster.
After the celebration, he returned to his office to find Lily standing in the doorway.
“Hey,” she said. “I just wanted to say congratulations. Partner... that’s a big deal.”
Matt straightened. Her tone was even. Professional. Not a trace of the awkward tension that had haunted their last encounters.
“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate it.”
She nodded, offered a small smile.
“You’ve earned it. Congrats again.”
Then she turned and walked away.
Matt exhaled. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. Relief washed over him like a quiet tide.
She was no longer part of his story. Not anymore.
When he picked up the kids that afternoon, there was no chit-chat with Sarah. Just a polite nod and a quick goodbye before the kids climbed into the car.
Back at the apartment, he surprised Tommy and Emily with cake and ice cream. The good kind, with sprinkles and fudge and sugar highs that were probably poor parenting but absolutely worth it.
“Why are we celebrating?” Tommy asked, his mouth already full of vanilla frosting.
Matt grinned. “Because I got promoted. I’m going to be a partner at work.” Tommy gasped. “Like a boss?”
“Like a boss-boss,” he said, tapping his nose with a whipped cream finger.
They cheered, clinking juice boxes together.
Later that night, after the kids were in bed, Matt sat on the couch staring at the city lights outside his window.
He should’ve felt full, complete. But there was a space beside him on the couch that felt too empty. One he wasn’t sure would ever be filled again.
The next evening, Sarah opened the front door as the kids came barreling in, still buzzing from the sugar and excitement.
