Page 44 of The Third Girl

CHAPTER 20

SKYLAR

By Saturday evening, I’ve stewed enough. I spent the entire day doing one chore after another with no break in between. I hadn’t realized until now that I’m one of those people who frantically cleans everything in sight when they’re torn up about something. My mother used to do this, but as a teenager, I hadn’t recognized what she was doing or why.

Our home was never so clean as when my brother was sick. My mother would spend hours obsessively scrubbing the kitchen sink or the toilets or sorting the clothing in her closet. Now I see it for what it was. It was her way of having something else to focus on. My heart hurts, understanding that she was likely in a lot more pain than she’d shown us outwardly. Dad was always grumpy when Kevin was undergoing treatments. But Mom was such a damn rock. Completely steady. Our anchor in the storm. Only… maybe she was simply adept at hiding her agony from us.

I look up at the clock on the face of the microwave as I’m finishing up in the kitchen to find that it’s five minutes until I’m due at Matt’s.Shit.His home isn’t too far from here, but I definitely can’t make it in five minutes.

It takes me two anxiety-inducing minutes to locate my purse since I forgot I’d gone directly to the bathroom in my drowned-rat state last night and dumped it on the counter. Since I’d holed up here all damn day, that’s where it had remained. Nothing like screwing up the day after screwing your boss, I guess. Huffing out a pathetic laugh, I snatch up the bag and my raincoat, pat the butt pocket of my jeans to make sure my phone is there and head out.

I’m running more than a few minutes late, and all the way over, I simultaneously beat myself up for not knowing how I’ll handle seeing Matt tonight and for not texting him before I took off. But there’s nothing to be done once I’m driving because I’ve heard way too many horror stories about things that happened thatonetime when someone tried to text and drive. Not to mention it’s freaking raining like crazy again, and it’s hard enough to see in the dark even without a torrential downpour.

And as for what to say, I simply don’t know. We definitely need to talk.

It’s quarter to twelve when I finally pull up and bail from the car, racing to the front door. I let myself in, like I have been, and stand still for several seconds. I’m a dripping mess, and water puddles on the welcome mat around me.

Matt comes around the corner from the kitchen dressed in his uniform, his phone up to the side of his face. He stops, staring at me. “You’re here.”

I nod. “Yes. Sorry I’m late.”

He turns away from me for a moment to speak into the phone. “Hey. Everything is okay. I’ll be in as soon as I can.” He pauses, listening for a moment before nodding. “Yep. Thank you.”

He brings the phone down, tapping at the screen to end the call. He focuses his gaze on me, closing the distance between us. I can’t read the expression in his eyes, but he lifts his hand to the side of my face, tucking a wet curl behind my ear. He blinks, almost as if coming to his senses, and pulls his hand back. He rasps, “You’re okay?”

I exhale heavily, taking off my rain jacket. “Yes. Sorry. I’m frazzled. I couldn’t find my purse and the weather is shitty and—” I suck in a breath. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I was late leaving and in such a hurry, I didn’t think to text you until it was too late because I was driving in that downpour. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Matt silently takes the jacket from me and hangs it up. His arms drop slowly from the coat to rest on his hips. He stands facing away from me, his only movement the expanding of his back as he takes in deep breaths.

Whether he thought I wasn’t showing because of how we got carried away last night and the words we’d exchanged or if he thought I’d wrecked in the storm, I won’t know until he tells me. But either way, I feel terrible because it’s obvious he was worried. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. I reach out, placing my hand on his back. “I’m fine. Promise.”

His swallow is audible. “I’m glad.” He turns around, grasping one of my hands in his, cupping my neck with the other to draw me close. His warmth flows through me and my heart skips a beat. Our eyes lock and hold.

“I wouldn’t leave you with no one to take care of Sailor, no matter what. I told you, I have your back.”

He nods, and there’s something about the way he’s so intensely focused on me that sends me back to last night when he’d looked so deeply into my eyes. It felt like he truly understood me and would take care of me. All my needs and wants and desires would be met, and he’d be the one to give me everything. I don’t think there will ever be anyone who touches me the way he does.

The longer we maintain this connection, the more I see. Matt is rock solid, but on the inside he’s the owner of a shattered heart that begs to be put back together. I want to be the one to make him feel whole again, but am I the one he wants? Would he let me be that for him? I draw in a breath and squeeze his hand.

“Daddy?” Sailor’s sweet voice comes through the baby monitor that I hadn’t noticed sitting on the stairs.

Our chests rise and fall in time with each other as we wait to see if she’s really awake. Sure enough, a moment later, there’s an upset cry that we can hear from upstairs without the aid of the monitor. Matt tips his forehead down to meet mine, and I let out a ragged breath. Patting his chest with my hand, I back away. “I’ll go up. You should get to work.” Backing toward the stairs, I lift an unsure hand to wave goodbye. “See you in the morning.”

He nods, and I pivot, starting up the stairs.

“Skylar.”

I stop, looking over my shoulder.

There’s something raw and gritty about his voice that makes my heart jump. “I want you to know that I understand why you were upset with me last night. We’ve got things to talk about.”

* * *

The next morning, I wake up thinking I smell coffee and bacon. I must be hallucinating. It’s entirely possible because I feel like crap. On cue, my lady parts clench viciously. I gasp and roll over onto my side, curling into a ball. With a quick glance at the baby monitor, I’m satisfied that I can lie here and moan to myself because Sailor’s still asleep. Through the fog of pain, it registers that Matt must be home because I most definitely smell food. Of course, before I can head downstairs, I’ve got to deal with the red tidal wave.

I sit up, then pull on the joggers I’d left on the floor when I crawled into bed last night. Unable to stand fully upright, I press a hand to my lower abdomen and creep across the hall to the bathroom, trying to remember if I brought a stash of tampons over.Oh, please, please, please.My fears are confirmed when I rifle through the drawer I’ve appropriated for myself. Nothing.Shit.

After brushing my teeth and cleaning myself up as best I can, I head back to my bedroom, quickly tug my shoes on, and tie my hair up in a knot. I guess at least it’s a good thing Matt’s here. I can go ahead and take off, no big deal.

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