Page 83 of The Official Problem
“She said she’d wait downstairs by the car.” Of course she had.
Matthieu grabbed his wallet and keys, more out of habit than need, and followed Alexei out. Julie stood exactly where Alexei said she’d be, long, dark hair curled, makeup flawless, a simple black sheath dress beneath a heavy wool coat. She looked away as Matthieu approached, but then, changing her mind, met his gaze head-on with a piercing look.
Matthieu opened his mouth to apologize. There were a million ways to say how sorry he was. How deeply he regretted every hurtful thing he’d said. Words he’d put into the world, ugly, sharp, and truer than he’d meant them to be, that had somehow crystallized into reality. Instead, he muttered, “I’ll sit in the back,” and climbed in.
The drive to the church was painfully awkward. Alexei tried to fill the silence with questions about Julie’s time in Paris. She gave one-word answers. Their usual back-and-forth playful banter was nowhere to be found.
Alexei kept glancing at Matthieu through the rearview mirror, his blue eyes assessing as always, trying to communicate something Matthieu didn’t want to hear. He knew he’d need to talk to Julie, and soon. But now—pulling up to a mostly deserted church to face his mother’s coffin—was not the time.
Matthieu got out and opened the passenger door, offering his sister a hand. She ignored it, slipped her arm through Alexei’s, and let him guide her inside.
Fine,Matthieu thought. He deserved it.
As expected, the church was mostly empty. His mother’s coffin already sat by the altar. There hadn’t been enough loving family or friends to carry it down. Only a small cluster of people sat in the first pew.
Scott stood as Matthieu approached, holding out a hand to shake. “I’m so sorry, Matthieu,” he said again, unnecessarily.
I’m not.
“Thank you, sir.” Matthieu turned to where Alexei was helping his sister settle into her seat. He looked like a doting husband, gently adjusting her skirt so it didn’t ride up over her knee. “You already know Alexei. This is my sister, Julie.”
Scott stepped forward to shake her hand. “Scott Murray,” he said. “Sorry we couldn’t meet under better circumstances.”
“Likewise,” she said, almost meekly.
This whole day felt forced and fake. Matthieu could feel the itch of something restless beneath his skin. Only one person in the world could soothe the agitation brewing inside him, and he wasn’t here. Matthieu forced a neutral expression and walked over to tell the officiant they could begin.
The service had been, well, beautiful, even though it sounded like it was for someone else. Beloved mother. Dear friend. Cherished member of the community. She was none of those things.
They stood in the bitter cold and watched her coffin lowered somberly into the pre-dug grave. Julie and Alexei each sprinkled a little dirt over the top, then bowed their heads in remembrance. Matthieu followed suit, because it was expected.
He shook the hands of the nurses who came, because it was expected. He let Scott tell him “Sorry for your loss”two more times, because it was expected. He thanked the officiant and left a donation he couldn’t afford for the church. He stood alone by his mother’s grave longer than he needed to, because he knew that once he walked away, it would be for the last time.
Matthieu had imagined this moment for so long. Sometimes with dread. Sometimes with hope. Every time he pictured it, he thought it would feel defining. A clear line in the sand between what was and what now could be. But it didn’t feel that way. She’d left behind too much for him to deal with to make a clean break.
Julie and Alexei were already back at the car by the time Matthieu finally pulled himself away. The drive back was as silent as the one there. This time, Alexei didn’t bother trying to fill it.
“Do you want me to drive you to your friend’s?” Alexei asked Julie as they pulled up outside Matthieu’s building—theirbuilding.
He expected her to say yes, but to his surprise, she said, “I think it’s time Matthieu and I talked.”
She followed him to their apartment in silence. Matthieu unlocked the door and held it open. He nearly walked into her when she stopped inside the threshold.
“Oh. Hi,” came Kieran’s voice.
Shit. Another one for the list of difficult conversations to be had.
“Who are you?” Julie asked, her tone implying she knew exactly who stood in front of her. She just couldn’t figure out why.
“Julie, this is Kieran. My… boyfriend?” Was that even the word they were using now? Judging by the smile spreading across Kieran’s face, he was very pleased with that designation.
“Kieran Lloyd,” she repeated.
“It’s…” Matthieu began, not knowing how to finish.Newwasn’t the right word. “We worked things out.”
Julie only nodded.
“I’ll let you two talk,” Kieran said.
