Page 128 of A Love That Broke Us
Matt’s the best. Truly. In fact, he’s so great it almost pisses me off that he won’t settle down with someone. It feels like a backhand to the universe—like what’s the point of being one of the good ones if no one gets to have you?
Then again, Matt would probably argue that if he’sthatgreat, it’d be selfish not to share. Which is so Matt.
I used to feel that way about Jensen. That’s what makes all of this so damn hard. Jensenisone of the good ones.
I’m sure Matt has his own flaws, everyone does. The kind you only discover when you live with someone. He’s not perfect.
For one, he kept what he knew about Jensen from me. Which, I guess, makes him a loyal friend to Jensen… and something different tome. I get why he did it. They’ve been friends forever. Still, I was so mad when I found out he knew and didn’t tell me.
Jensen told me right after that first AA meeting. He said Matt had walked in on him at the bar the week before.
Matt told me later hewasplanning to tell me. He just didn’t know how or when.
Turns out, Matt’s easy to forgive.
I catch him weaving through the crowd in a suit that probably costs more than my rent, two drinks in hand.
Not gonna lie, I’m a little drunk. I never drink cocktails, but Matt’s bringing back the third. After the first, my face was tingling, and now? I have to concentrate just to see straight. I can barely feel my mouth.
Guilty thoughts creep in, and I try to shove them down. The ones that say I’m a hypocrite. That I’m no better than Jensen. That I pounded a cocktail to numb the thoughts and dull the pain. That I’m drinking just so I can laugh and have a good time.
It’s working. Ihavebeen laughing. And it feels so damn good.
But isn’t that pathetic? That I have to drink to laugh—to forget? Does that make me any different than my dad? Than Jensen?
The intention is the same. Only the outcome is different.
Matt slides into the seat beside me, placing two waters in front of us.
My brows knit together. “Water? I thought you were getting us drinks?”
“I did.” He flashes me a grin, the same cocky smile that gets Matt laid every time he looks at a girl.
“I don’t want water. I wanted another mojito.”
“I know.” His lips press into a line. “But I also know you, Al. And you’re already pretty tipsy. One more will ruin your morning. The last thing you need is a hangover. Plus, you’re an amateur. Trust me, right now, you’re at the perfect spot. Fun, relaxed… one more will push you over the edge. And I have to drive us home. So, water it is.”
He lifts his glass and holds it in the air, waiting.
Reluctantly, I pick mine up and clink it with his. “Fine,” I say, a hint of a smile creeping in.
“Should we go dance?” Matt asks.
I glance at the chaos on the dance floor. Zach and Joey’s moms are out there showing everyone up.
A full grin sweeps across my lips, and though I’m smiling, the heaviest sadness settles in my chest. I wish Jensen were here. I want to dance with him. Laugh with him. Take pictures of us in the photo booth.
Don’t get me wrong—Matt’s been a great date. The perfect gentleman. He’s made me laugh, and we had a really great talk on the way here. I’m grateful he’s here with me. It’s comforting having him by my side tonight.
But he’s not Jensen.
I turn my gaze to him. “Yeah,” I say slowly. “Let’s go dance.”
I’m stillbreathless from dancing when Matt checks his phone. He freezes.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Uh…” He glances at me, hesitating. “Megan just texted me.”
