“?‘Everything okay?’?” he repeats in a mocking tone that makes my blood simmer. “Everything’s a nightmare, man. I don’t need shit from you on top of all of it.”
He’s spiraling, hard. His Italian accent only comes out these days when he’s upset, and it’s very much with us right now.
My own pulse picks up. “What do you mean? Matty. Come on. Why would I give you shit?”
His face is hard, but he’s clearly in a lot of pain. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and taps around on the screen, which casts an unnaturally bright glow in the dim twilight.
He passes the phone to me.
“Which part?” I ask, glancing down at the series of texts he’s pulled up.
“All of it.”
“These are from Blair?” I ask, and he nods.
He has her saved as BB with a bunny emoji between the initials; she probably saved it in his phone herself.
Heyyyyyyyy babe, hope you’re having the adventure of a lifetime back in Cali! I miss you so so so so so so much
But
I have news
Please don’t hate me, but I got this opportunity to do a contract with a tour company in Thailand for six months
I will regret it FOREVER if I don’t take it, you know? And when they reached out, everything clicked, like, THIS is the next right move for me. I know we talked about settling down and growing roots together, but when I think about being tied to one place forever (and, sorry, one person) (not to hurt your feelings!!!) (I would feel this way about literally anyone) it makes me feel like I can’t breathe
(I rlly hope you haven’t put a down payment on a place for us yet, I would feel extra awful bc it’s hard enough to tell you all of this as it is)
So sorry, babe, please please don’t hate me
I’m flying to Bangkok tonight
And ugh I guess I should probably mention before you see it on insta that Stephen is coming with me
Thx for all the fun, I will never forget you and I hope you forgive me
I look up, stunned.
All the emotion has seeped out of his face and, apparently, leached into mine instead.
I shouldn’t be speechless, but I am.
“Just say it,” Matteo says. “I know you want to.”
I take it all in, wait for whatever might be buried in me to surface.
Is there a part of me that’s glad he’s hurting in the same way he made me hurt?
It definitely feels like something has just balanced out in the universe—but I wouldn’t say I’mgladabout it. I’ve never been the vindictive sort, and underneath all we’ve been through, he’s still like my brother. I don’t want him to suffer any more than I’d want myself to suffer.
“I’m sorry, man,” I say—and I mean it. “That really sucks.”
Matteo scoffs. “You’re not going to say I deserve it?”
If he keeps pushing me, I might.
His eyes are intense: a challenge. I breathe deeply and count to five before I say something I’ll regret.
