“Thanks for coming,” he says finally, voice just above a whisper.
“Of course,” I whisper back.
His eyes squeeze shut, nostrils flaring as his chest rises with a shaky breath. “He’s gone.”
The words barely leave his mouth before a sob wrenches out of him. His lips tremble. “Nate’s fucking gone,” he chokes out, like saying it twice might make it make sense.
“Oh my God, Matt…”
“He—Cole…” His voice cracks, his breath turning jagged as he covers his face, shoulders shaking.
“Hey,” I whisper, tears spilling down my cheeks. I slide my hands to his shoulders and scoot closer, pulling him into me.
He breaks, collapsing against me, his head dropping to my chest. I wrap myself around him as he shatters in my arms. Sobs rip through him—those deep, silent ones that shake your whole body. AndGod,it cracks something inside me just watching.
I hold him. I don’t know for how long, but eventually our cries blend together, and I’m not sure which ones are his and which ones are mine.
I’ve only seen Matt cry twice. Once in high school, after he and his dad had a huge fight, and once after our last breakup.
AfterIbroke up with him…
But never like this.
I shift and gently guide his head into my lap, leaning back against the side of the bed. My fingers thread through his hair,slow and soothing, and he curls into me like I can take it all away. His shoulders still shake, breath still uneven, but eventually the sobs quiet and he stills.
My hand moves through his hair, over the bare skin of his shoulder, familiar in a way that almost hurts. God, this is Matt. My Matt…used to be my Matt. Seeing him break like this unravels parts of me I didn’t know were still there.
My fingers move rhythmically, back and forth through his hair and over his skin. I don’t stop. I have no idea what time it is, but I can hardly keep my eyes open. My head keeps bobbing, jerking me awake, until I finally give in, rest my head back against the bed, and everything fades away.
My brows scrunchas something grazes my shoulder.
“Jordan…” A whisper.
I force my eyes open a crack, just enough for the light to make me wince. Matt’s crouching down in front of me.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry—I fell asleep.” I push up. “What time is it?”
“Almost four. My plane leaves at seven. It’s the earliest my pilot could have it ready.”
I stand, searching his face. “Hey,” I say softly, forcing my lips to curve upward, just a little. “How you doing?”
He shrugs, then lifts his eyes to mine. They’re red from crying.
I bring a hand to his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I should go… You gonna be okay?”
He doesn’t say anything, just looks at me. The way he always has. That look is loaded with more than just history. It hits somewhere deep, making my breath stutter.
His gaze drops, just for a heartbeat, to the tank top that’s barely doing its job, before lifting back to my face, raw and aching.
His eyes don’t leave mine. “Please don’t go,” he whispers.
I tense, eyes searching his. He’s so broken, so fragile. I swallow, then nod once. “Okay.”
We stand there for a moment, both of us exhausted. He rubs ahand over his face and shakes his head, like he’s second-guessing what he just asked of me.
I turn and climb into his bed, taking the side I’ve always slept on. I sit back against the pillows and pat the space beside me.
“Come here,” I say softly.
