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But I never loved him the way I love Kyle.
I remember Mom saying something when I was younger. Tommy was having a hard time deciding between two girls who wanted to date him. One was an on-again off-again girlfriend and the other was an exchange student from Taiwan. He sat at the dining room table, his blond hair much longer then. He ran his fingers through it and asked Mom what he should do.
She took a sip of coffee before slipping a strand of golden-brown hair behind her ear—she was a brunette when I was in elementary school. "It's OK to love two people, Tommy."
"But what if I don't know which one I love more?" he had asked, his face twisted in agony.
"Sometimes we just have to take a chance," she shrugged. "I think you know, deep in your gut, which choice is the right one."
"But what if I choose wrong?" Tommy argued.
Mom shook her head. "There is no wrong answer. There's just...the best answer for right now. The one you feel a stronger pull towards."
At the time, I remember thinking that was a dumb answer. She had raised me to always believe right and wrong were synonymous, never ambivalent. We see the world in black and white. Boxes and check marks and heavily drawn lines.
It's just, I don't think I see things that way anymore. Now, I only seem to see grey.
I stare into Matt's brown eyes, so different from his brother's. Matt's are golden, laced with bronze and a hint of hazelnut. And they used to twinkle. Before Audra. Before the baby. Now, they're dull, restless. Kyle's are richer in color, like those mochas he likes to drink when I order hot chocolate at a coffee shop. They're alive and steal my breath as they run the length of my face, of my body.
"What's going on?" I finally say as Matt groans, the weight of the world sitting roughly on his broad shoulders.
"I don't want her going out with anyone," he mumbles.
"That's not fair," I gently chastise. "You don't want to be with her so she's free to date other people."
Matt takes a sip of hot chocolate, stares out the kitchen window. The light filters in, splashes across his face. He looks like he's aged a few years in the last couple of months. My heart twinges with sadness for him.
"She put so much pressure on me." He shakes his head, keeps his eyes trained on the window. "She wanted to get married and live together and be this happy family. It freaked me the hell out."
"Do you love her?'" I hear myself ask.
Matt looks over at me, guilt shadowing his face.
"You don't have to worry about me," I tell him. "I can handle the truth. But can you?"
His shoulders relax and he grips the white mug in front of him. "I don't know. To either question."
"Why did you ask her to Prom?" I've wanted to know the answer for a while.
"My mom," he closes his eyes briefly, his jaw locked. "She said I needed to let you go. That we were going to different schools, and it wasn't fair to keep you from meeting other people. She said four years apart was a long time to be hung up on each other. That we needed to experience life without this...bond we have. Or had."
My heart feels like it's shattering all over again. "Why would she say that when she knew how much I loved you?" Everyone knew.
"Her intentions were good, Jen," he swallows hard. I watch his lower lip quiver, his creamy throat bobs unconsciously. "You're all I've ever known. I didn't want to hold you back, but I didn't want anyone else. I still don't."
My eyes glass over with unshed tears as I think about the way I cried in the girl's restroom when Audra told me Matt asked her to Prom.
He ripped my heart from my chest because his mom told him to.
"Don't be mad at her," Matt says quietly. "I'm the one who listened to her when I knew I shouldn't."
"I'm not mad," I shake my head. I'm hurt.
"I do like Audra," he admits. "She's kind and she's fun. I asked her to Prom because I did—I do—like being around her."
"Then what's the problem?" It comes like a whisper, shaky and breathy.
His hand reaches out and he twines his fingers with mine on the table. "She's not you."
