Page 43 of What Broke First
They ate. Slowly. No kids. No TV. Just the sound of forks scraping and two people chewing through their shared history.
After a few bites, Sarah looked at him. “This is actually good.”
Matt exhaled, visibly relieved. “You mean it?”
“I wouldn’t lie about food. That’s sacred.”
He sipped his wine and nodded. “I’ve been trying.”
“I can tell.”
A long pause.
“I think I like you jealous,” she said playfully. “The cooking and the basil and the slow dance of self-improvement.”
He set his glass down. “I want to be the kind of man you’d fall in love with again. Even if you never do.”
Sarah looked down at her plate, then back at him. Her eyes were soft but cautious.
“Don’t make me love dinner. That’s how it starts.”
He gave a half-smile. “You can love the food. Just don’t love me yet. That part’s going to take more time.”
She didn’t argue. Instead, she finished her meal, let him box up the leftovers for her, and kissed him lightly on the cheek before leaving. It wasn’t a yes.
But it wasn’t a no either.
The apartment felt too quiet once the door clicked shut. Matt leaned against the counter, staring at the leftover wine in her glass. He could still smell the lemon and garlic. And her perfume.
His phone buzzed.
Tyler: Jules is asking again. Marley’s still single. You in for Saturday? Low-pressure. Drinks and bowling. Think of it as exposure therapy.
Matt stared at the message, thumb hovering. He didn’t want to play games. He didn’t want to fake moving on. But he also didn’t want to stay stuck.
He typed back.
Matt: Yeah. Set it up. Saturday’s fine.
Another buzz.
Tyler: Look at you, healing and no longer groveling. Proud of you, man.
Matt didn’t reply. He poured himself another glass of wine, telling himself it was just a date.
Chapter 23: The Therapy Seat
Dr. Colleen crossed one leg over the other and smiled gently at both of them.
“Welcome back. I know it’s been a couple of weeks since your last joint session. Let’s start here: What have you each discovered about yourselves in that time?”
Matt and Sarah sat on opposite ends of the couch, a cushion between them like a silent buffer of shared history.
Matt cleared his throat first. “I’ve discovered I’m capable of effort. Not the bare-minimum kind I used to offer, but real, uncomfortable, time-consuming effort. I cooked. Like, actually cooked something edible. I’m trying to make space for Sarah again, even if that space doesn’t lead where I want it to.”
Dr. Colleen gave a nod, then turned to Sarah. “And you?”
Sarah took a breath, her hands folded tightly in her lap. “I’ve discovered that I don’t miss the version of myself who spent her energy managing someone else’s chaos. I’ve been able to breathe. And I realized... I like who I am without the constant emotional scrambling.”
