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I rub my eyes as I trudge down the staircase.
Mom's standing at the bottom, a black hefty bag in her hand. "Can you take the trash out?"
"I was almost asleep," I grumble.
"Thank you," she raises her eyebrows at me as I take the bag from her. She makes her way back to the kitchen to finish cleaning up.
I slip into my boots, grab Mom's coat, wrap it around myself before stepping onto the front porch. The cold mountain air nips at my nose and cheeks. I shiver as I take the porch steps slowly, looking up at the night sky. It's clear. A vast, black cloak with glittering stars, the moon usually bright and full.
The snow crunches beneath my boots as I drag the bag behind me to the bins on the side of the garage.
When I reach the trash can, a large, dark shape moves towards me, making me freeze in place. I let out a high-pitched shriek hoping it's not a bear.
But it's just Matt.
Also with a black trash bag in hand.
We stare at each other, our eyes locked. I don't move and neither does he. It feels like a lifetime passes before I finally work up the nerve to say, "Hey."
I watch as Matt drops the trash bag by his feet. "Hey."
"Congratulations again," I raise a weak shoulder, give him a small smile.
"You really mean that?" Matt challenges me.
I shake my head. "I do. I mean it. I'm happy for you."
"Then why don't I believe you?" he responds, crossing his arms over his chest.
I can see his breath, white and heavy, as he breathes in and out, the frigid air numbing my face and fingers and heart. "You can believe whatever you want."
"What happened to you?" He shifts his weight from one leg to the other. "What happened to the girl who used to bust my balls all the time? Who was feisty? Spoke her mind? Huh? Where did she go?"
"What do you want me to say?" I reply, defeated. "Whatever I say is going to be wrong. You want me to tell you to marry her? Is that what you want from me? Because if I say that and it doesn't work out, then it's my fault for encouraging you to do it. And if I tell you not to marry her, then everyone's just going to think it's because I'm still in love with you. So, the only thing I can say is, 'Congratulations, I'm happy for you'."
He takes a step closer, the light from the full moon shines down on his face. His dark eyes are blazing as he looks at me. "I want you to say how you really feel."
"It doesn't matter how I feel," I shrug.
I guess it really doesn't, does it?
"When I walked in on you and Kyle having sex in Boulder, that was...rough. Seeing you like that with him." Matt closes his eyes briefly before opening them again. "Shit, Jen, I can't give you the things he can. I can't buy you a brand-new car. I have a kid that I'm going to have to buy diapers and formula for soon. I'm not going to college now. It's not even on the table. I had to ask Herb for a job changing oil the other day. I start next week. I can't give you the things that he can. All the things I really want to give you."
A lump forms in my throat. I want to say something—anything—but I can't seem to open my mouth.
"I should have told you how I felt the moment I knew," he continues. "I should have told you that I loved you and I wanted you. But I was more terrified of losing you—your friendship. It doesn't really matter because I lost you anyway. I fucked this up. Again. You won't talk to me and I...I can't give you the things that he can."
"What are you saying?" I swallow hard, feel the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. I willfully push them back.
"I'm saying," Matt takes a step closer so we're a foot from each other, "I'm going to marry Audra and I'm going to try to love her the way I really, really wanted to love you. Because I think Kyle can give you the life that you deserve. Not me."
My shoulders feel heavy all of a sudden, sagging beneath an invisible weight. I want to close the space between us and wrap my arms around him, cry into his shoulder, tell him how sorry I am that even when I had the chance, I didn't choose him.
If I knew then what I know now, would I have chosen him?
No.
I lay my hand across his chest, over his pounding heart. "Just promise me you'll try to take care of this."
