I’m a woman, and I don’t have to wait for Matt to call. If something is wrong, I need to know. My thumb hovers over his name until I hit call. It rings long enough that I’m already bracing for voicemail, for the hollow click and the ridiculous sting of pretending I’m fine with it.
“Hey,” he says finally, his voice low and worn down—familiar enough to loosen something tight in my chest.
Relief hits first. Then nerves. “Hey,” I reply, suddenly hyperaware of how fast my heart is beating. “Are you busy?”
There’s a pause. Not long—but long enough to feel loaded. The kind that carries everything he isn’t saying. He’s not into me anymore. He had his taste and is ready to move on.
“I’m still at the facility,” he admits.
Of course he is. I imagine him there, refusing to slow down, choosing motion over stillness because stopping wouldmean thinking, same as me. “You weren’t supposed to be,” I say lightly, even though the words aren’t a joke and we both know it.
“I know.”
I lean against the pantry cabinet, staring at nothing. “I just got back into town.”
“Yeah?”
“I had a meeting today.” I wait, then add, “The boss said I’m going to be the star of the network.”
“I never had a doubt,” he says, and I can hear the smile he’s not letting fully form.
My heart ticks faster, unsure of whether to ask given how tired he is. “I was wondering… if maybe I could see you?”
There’s another silence, heavier than the last. His breath changes. I hear it through the line.
“Noelle—”
“I know you’ve been busy,” I barrel on, hearing the breakup tone in his voice. “And I have too. Canada was insane, and rookie camp, and everything just kept moving, and I didn’t want to be… I don’t know. A distraction.”
“You’re not,” he says immediately.
I close my eyes. “Then can I come by? Just for a bit. It’s important.”
Another pause. Longer this time.
“I’m not great company right now,” he says carefully.
“I didn’t ask for great. I asked for you.”
Silence stretches, tight and fragile.
Finally, he exhales. “Yeah,” he says. “Okay. You can come by. I’ll be home in an hour.”
Relief rushes through me so fast it almost knocks me over. “I’ll see you soon.” My nerves are shot, and he’s the only one who can calm them.
“Yeah,” he repeats, quieter. “I’ll see you.”
The line goes dead, and I stand there, phone pressed to my chest, knowing—without any dramatic reveal or gut-punch moment—that something has shifted. He’s pushing me away.
Being busy with my new career has protected me. But now? I’m walking straight toward the truth.
And for the first time, I’m not sure I’m ready for what I might find waiting for me on the other side of Matt’s door.
TWENTY-THREE
MATT
Man cave chair, except it’s not.
