Page 56 of What Broke First
She didn’t even care who was watching at the red light. She sang louder, tossing her hair like she was in her own damn music video. For the first time in forever, she felt playful. Soft. Unarmored.
Meanwhile, a few cars behind her, Matt sat at a light, pounding his palm against the dashboard in rhythm toI Gotta Feelingby The Black Eyed Peas, yelling, “Mazel Tov!” out the window like he had just been knighted. He drummed the steering wheel as if it were Madison Square Garden and he was the headliner.
He couldn’t stop smiling. It wasn't the promotion. It wasn't the wine still clinking around in his blood.
Because of her.
That night, they didn’t pull into the same driveway, not yet. But they drove home in perfect sync, two grown-ups in separate cars, singing like teenagers, thinking maybe, just maybe, this thing still had a chance.
They practically ran inside the house, queued up the film, grabbed blankets and a bowl of popcorn, and nestled together on the couch.
Somewhere between Holly Go-Lightly’s cat monologues and the rain-soaked kiss, they drifted off. Her head on his shoulder. His hand rested over hers.
Breathing together. Dreaming again.
Chapter 29: The Rebuild
Matt woke to the soft weight of Sarah against his chest, her hand curled over his heart like it had never belonged anywhere else. The faint blue glow of the paused TV lit up the tangled blankets and empty popcorn bowls.
His neck ached. His arm was asleep. And still, he didn’t move.
Sarah stirred beside him, brow furrowing slightly as if her dreams were stubborn. When her eyes finally fluttered open, she blinked at the ceiling for a few seconds before glancing up at him.
“Oh,” she said, voice still foggy with sleep. “Hi.”
Matt gave her a lazy, lopsided smile. “Hey.”
She didn’t move. Neither did he. It was tender. Quiet. Awkward in the way that came when hope and fear sat too close together. Before they could ruin it with overthinking,
She nuzzled against him, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, not as a reminder of the past but as something new and solid, like they were both becoming better versions of themselves, together and on purpose.
Tommy’s voice rang out from the hallway. “Are you guys, like, dating again or what?”
Emily gasped theatrically. “Mom! Did you kiss him on the mouth?”
Sarah groaned and buried her face in Matt’s chest.
“They’ve been watching too much Disney Channel.”
Matt laughed, ruffling her hair before reluctantly untangling himself. “Okay, okay. Let’s get breakfast going before this turns into a courtroom drama.”
As they scrambled eggs and burned toast, Matt caught Sarah watching him, soft eyes, guarded smile.
“Let’s take the kids somewhere this weekend,” he said casually. “The lake, maybe. Or the zoo. Just us. No pressure. Just... test the waters.”
Sarah hesitated. “Like a trial run?”
“No,” Matt said, then grinned. “More like a low-stakes field trip.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a dork.”
“Yeah, but I’m your dork. Tentatively. Hopefully.”
Later that afternoon, Matt pulled into his driveway, still humming the theme song from Phineas and Ferb, the miniature Queen Emily had made them all watch. He spotted a thick envelope leaning against his doorframe, official letterhead, his name in sharp serif font.
He opened it on the spot.
It was a relocation proposal. A fast-track executive role, one that came with more money, more prestige, and a big fat catch.
