Matthew doesn’t fill the silence after that. He doesn’t try to fix it or tell me it’s going to be okay. He just keeps his hand where it is, warm against my ankle, a quiet reminder that he’s here, without demanding I say anything else.
After a while, he clears his throat. “Take a few days off and-”
“I can’t,” I cut him off.
“You don’t have PTO,” he says gently, “but the airline has bereavement leave-”
“Bereavement means base pay,” I snap before I can stop myself. “Not overtime.”
He blinks, surprised, and I sigh, softer this time. “I went through this phase where I realized I get to fly all over the world and have all this experience, the excursions… and I did. A little too much. I kind of dug myself into a credit card hole. That’s why I’m living in someone’s basement, I’m trying to pay it off.”
Matthew is quiet for a moment, thinking. Then he says it. “Stay here.”
I laugh, because it’s so absurd I have to. “What?”
“Stay here,” he repeats, steady and certain. “Give up the crappy room and stay here.”
I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “We literallyjustreconnected. I ghosted you for two weeks. And now you want me to, what, sleep in your bed?”
He points at the sofa near the door. “That pulls out.”
“Matthew, I’m not-”
“I’m not asking as a girlfriend,” he cuts in, his voice soft but firm. “Though I’d love that someday. I’m asking as afriend. My friend Brooke is going through something, and I want to be there for her. Let me.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he keeps going, leaning forward, his eyes searching mine. “Besides… you can’t keep going like this. You’re running on fumes. You need sleep.”
The words hang in the air. I want to take him up on it so bad but I know I won’t. I just don’t wanna be alone.
Stella wanted me to come stay with her but I can’t do that. She has her own kids to take care of.
I bite my lip, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Will you… hold me?”
For a heartbeat, he just looks at me, like he’s making sure I really mean it. Then his lips curve into the softest smile.
“Of course,” he says gently. “Come here.”
I crawl under the blanket as he moves behind me, the exhaustion in my bones heavier than gravity. He shifts closer, slinging an arm around my waist, while the other cushions my head. My head finds the space beneath his chin; my ear pressed against the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
I close my eyes, drifting off before I know what’s happening.
Matthew
My arm is numb. Completely, hopelessly numb.
AndJesus, how hot is she? Not in the sexy, heart-racing way, though, God knows, there’s that too, but in theactualsense. Like I’m curled around a space heater disguised as a human.She’s radiating warmth through the blanket, through my T-shirt, straight into my bones.
But I don’t move.
I lie there, perfectly still, while Brooke finally,finally, gets the sleep she’s been needing for God knows how long. My fingers tingle, my shoulder’s screaming, and I know I should shift before I lose circulation completely, but I can’t bring myself to break the moment.
Because this, her breathing slow and steady, the tiny sighs slipping past her lips, the way she unconsciously presses closer in her sleep, this is worth every second of discomfort.
Eventually, though, reality nudges at the edges of the moment. Once the sun dips, the rays will come straight through the window and hit the bed. Ishouldpull the blinds now, before that happens. Ishouldprobably move.
I stay anyway.
Until she stirs.
