Page 59 of What Broke First
Matt rested his forehead against hers, both of them still breathing hard, their lips tingling from the kiss that Sarah initiated.
He whispered, his voice raw and reverent, “What was that?”
Sarah kept her eyes closed for a moment, like she was memorizing the feel of him this close. Her voice came out quiet but sure, stripped of any armor. “That was me being honest. With you, with myself. I’ve missed you, Matt. Not just in the way people miss what they used to have, but in the way that your absence feels like something’s gone wrong in the world.”
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “I’ve missed the way your mouth tastes. The way you smell like cedar and home and the way your presence makes my shoulders drop without me realizing it. I’ve missed your dumb jokes and your kind eyes and your heart, even when it’s been messy and broken. Especially then.”
Matt didn’t speak. His eyes were locked on hers, wide and stunned.
“I’m still angry,” she said. “I still have pain to sort through. But that kiss... I didn’t think about the hurt. I just felt you. And I didn’t want to pull away.”
She touched his cheek. “So that was from the part of me that still believes in us. The part that’s starting to forgive you. The part that still loves you.”
Matt closed his eyes, and this time, it wasn’t fear or guilt in his silence. It was hope. Thick and rising. He was not going to push her, even though he wanted to rip her clothes off and spread her out on the couch to devour. Patience was his most prized skill set. Act normal, he thought.
After a few quiet minutes, Matt stood to change, his shirt still damp from the afternoon’s water-gun ambush.
“I think I’m still wet in places I didn’t know existed,” he said, tugging at his collar.
Sarah smirked. “Want me to grab you a dry shirt?”
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
She ran up the stairs to Matt’s room, padded toward his overnight bag, still smiling, still warm. She reached for the zipper, her fingers brushing over the worn leather handle. As she pulled it open, something thick shifted inside. Her breath caught in her throat.
For a moment, she hesitated. A part of her, uninvited but instinctive, whispered: Divorce papers? Did he bring his own copy?
But as she pulled out the envelope, her eyes scanned the bolded type. Not legal forms. Not final signatures.
She read the header and froze. It wasn’t a divorce decree. It was the relocation proposal. Matt Taylor. New city. New title. New life. The smile slid from her face. Her stomach dropped. Her breath felt thin like she’d walked into high altitude without warning.
Her hand trembled around the envelope, the paper suddenly heavy, like it carried weight far beyond its pages. She stared at the words again, willing them to change into something else, something safe. But they did not. It was all there. His name. The company logo. The relocation details. A pitch for a new beginning in a new city.
Her chest tightened. A flush rose to her cheeks, the sting of betrayal. He had made plans. Quietly. Privately. Life-altering plans.
And he had not told her. Not one word.
She clutched the envelope like it might burn her. The joy of the day, their laughter, the firelight, the kiss, the feeling that maybe they were becoming something again, fractured all at once.
He hadn’t told her.
To be continued...
Epilogue: Lily Breaks the Law
Of course, I knew Matt and Sarah took the kids out of town.
God, how could I not? He wouldn’t shut up about it.
Some painfully wholesome little road trip he kept mentioning like it meant something. Like he was proud.
He even came into the office the morning they left.
Why? To twist the knife? To play family man in front of me?
He stood there pouring coffee like the cover model for Basic Husbands Monthly, and all I could think was:
That was supposed to be me.
