Page 38 of The Vow Thief
“The mildly organized, occasionally responsible, part-time Incredible Dad,” Matt said, pulling them both into another hug.“God, I’m going to miss you guys.”
“Are you really leaving?” Emily asked quietly.
He brushed a stray hair from her face.“Just for a while, bug. I’ll fly back for every game, every recital, every chance I can get. And you’ll come visit me, remember? We’ll go to the beach, eat way too much ice cream, and pretend bedtime isn’t real.”
Tommy nodded seriously, like it was a pact.“Mom said you got a big job there.”
“She’s right,” Matt said.“A big job, big house, and big responsibilities.”
The kids clung to him until their arms ached. Sarah did not say a word, did not hurry them. She just sat at the kitchen island, quiet and watchful, letting them have every second.
When Tommy finally pulled back, he wiped his nose on his sleeve and mumbled,“You better call us every day.”
“I will,” Matt promised.
Emily pressed her face into his neck one last time before Sarah finally spoke.“Okay, you two. Let Dad finish packing the car.”
They nodded, shuffling toward the hallway, both turning back for one more wave before they disappeared upstairs.
When the laughter faded, the house slipped into that loaded quiet, the one that used to mean unspoken things and now just meant distance.
Sarah did not move closer, and neither did he. She looked tired but not unkind.“They’re handling this better than I expected.”
He nodded.“Kids are resilient. I’m the one falling apart.”
She gave a small smile.“You’ll be fine. Charleston will be good for you. You need a new start.”
He studied her, every detail. The way her hair framed her face, the curve of her mouth, the steadiness in her eyes that used to center him.“I keep thinking about the first time we walked into this house,” he said.“You made me take my shoes off because you didn’t want to scuff the floor. I thought it was ridiculous. Now I’d give anything to argue with you about it again.”
Sarah’s expression softened.“Matt.”
He shook his head lightly.“You don’t have to say anything. I just...” He looked down, voice low.“I can’t believe I fucked this up.”
Her silence said enough.
After a long moment, she stepped forward and hugged him. It was not a rekindling, just a quiet mercy. He held on for both hope and closure.
When she pulled away, she looked him in the eye.“Go build something good, Matt. Don’t waste the chance.”
He nodded once, unable to trust his voice.
Matt walked out to his car and loaded a few boxes into the trunk, the sound of the kids laughing faintly coming from behind the door. He sat behind the wheel and stared at the house until his vision blurred. Then he started the engine and drove toward Charleston, leaving behind the only version of home he helped build and then broke.
He made it to the end of the block before he had to pull over. The weight hit all at once. His eyes closed, his body jerking as if grief itself was taking bites out of him. He slammed both hands against the steering wheel, once, twice, the sound cracking through the car like thunder.
“Goddammit,” he rasped.
For a second, he tried to swallow it down. Tried to breathe like he was still the man who fixed things. But it was useless. The tears came fast, hard, uninvited. The mistakes, apologies, and almost-redemption blurred together until he could barely see the windshield.
He pressed his forehead to the steering wheel and stayed there. The hum of the engine was the only thing that didn’t feel hollow. Every good memory of Sarah flickered through his mind like a reel of things he’d never get back. The sound of her laugh. The smell of her hair. The quiet way she used to trace circles on his wrist when she thought he was asleep.
He had ruined all of it.
The world outside moved on, cars passing, neighbors walking their dogs, the normal rhythm of life that didn’t care one bit about his unraveling.
When the shaking finally slowed, he sat back and wiped his face with the heel of his hand. The tears left salt lines on his skin. He let out a slow, ragged breath and reached for his phone on the passenger seat.
He didn’t even have to think about the number. Tyler picked up on the second ring.
