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This can’t be healthy, but at this moment in time, I don’t fucking care.
As the blanket settles over our entwined bodies, he leans into me and sighs. “Fuck, I’m really glad I’m home. Today was a nightmare.”
I pick at my food as I ask what happened. Matthew seems to be thinking about what to say, so I just let him sit with it for a moment. When he finally speaks, my stomach churns.
“So, I met with Mitch this morning and he was pretty upset. Kept making off-handed comments, was kind of aggressive. I think he’s really hurt. I mean, I know he is, and I kinda feel like shit about it.”
I peer over at Matthew and see him nibbling on his bottom lip.
“I, uh, fuck, Coop. I invited him over to have dinner with me.”
My fork hovers over my food as I watch him. What the hell is he saying? “You mean, you invited him here? In my home? In our home?”
Matthew swallows and he glances away from me. “Yeah. We can eat out on the boardwalk if you’d rather not deal with him. He can be a bit much.”
“Did you tell him about us?”
“No. I didn’t.”
“So you invited him here for dinner…to meet me?”
Matthew nods and then shakes his head, still not meeting my gaze.
“Uh, I dunno. I just felt like shit seeing him all hurt, so I tried to fix it. And I think I made it worse.”
I pause, my mind reeling. “Are you going to tell him that we’re married?”
Matthew’s eyes shut and he lets out a shaky breath. “No. No, there’s no need. The whole marriage part isn’t real anyways. Right? It has an end date. No need to stir shit.”
Those words, the finality. It makes my chest pinch and twist. This is not how I expected this day to end.
“Oh, I see how it is,” I snap, moving away from him slightly. “This has an end date… So what am I then? Chopped liver?”
For the first time since bringing up Mitch, his gaze snaps to mine. “What? No. I mean, Coop, there’s no point in getting Mitch all riled up.”
I purse my lips and fold my arms across my aching chest. Of course I know this is completely reasonable and makes complete sense, but still, I want him to claim me. To tell everyone who he belongs to.
“Please don’t be upset,” he says, his voice wobbly. “He doesn’t need to know. It just makes everything so much more complicated than it needs to be, and I don’t think I could cope with it.”
I still won’t meet his eyes, even when he nudges his forehead into my neck, burrowing close to me.
I need to stay shielded, closed off, and yet with each press of his lips against my skin, I find myself cracking.
Just a little bit longer with him, I think. Just a little longer and then I’ll set him free and we can end this silly charade.
Nothing about this is silly though, not with the way I’m falling.
“Please don’t be upset with me,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”
I should pull away for the sake of my already bruised heart, but I can’t quite bring myself to do it. No, I just lean into him, letting his lips burn and etch their way across my skin.
Matthew, it says.
His.
“Don’t be sorry,” I manage to say, even though the lie tastes bitter on my tongue. “He’s your brother. It’s fine. He can come over here, and I’ll make myself scarce.”
“I don’t want you to be scarce,” Matthew says, but I ignore that comment. I’ll have to be, for both our sakes. If I’m around when he is anywhere in my vicinity, I’ll find myself wrapped around him.
