“It’s fine. She’s your girlfriend,” I respond, trying not to let the words hurt me.
He winces.
“Well, it’s true.”
“More importantly, she’s Brett’s mom,” he says.
“Which is why it’s completely fine,” I argue. “Let’s be real. We’re lucky this hasn’t happenedyet.This is herhouse, for goodness’ sake.”
“Technically, this house doesn’t belong to either of us,” he corrects me.
“No?”
“We’re renters,” he says.
“Oh,” I reply. “I just assumed…” My voice trails off.
“That I would want to settle down with Leyla?”
I shrug.
“If that was true, I probably would have married her. You ever think of that?”
“The thought has crossed my mind,” I say in a small voice. “Why didn’t you?”
“Are you serious?”
I nod.
Matt lifts his thumb to my face, tracing it slowly down my cheekbone. I close my eyes, savoring his touch. Moths dance in the warm light of the stoop above our heads. In the quiet of the spring evening, the hum of a car in the distance is accompanied by a chorus of crickets. The full moon illuminates the night sky. A breeze blows, causing goosebumps to form on my arms. “Everything I have is temporary,” he whispers.
“What do you mean?” I breathe the question into the night air. I can barely hear my own words.
Matt doesn’t answer. Instead, we lock eyes.
I’m transported back to camp. So many nights we did exactly this, falling in love with each other just by silently staring. We could listen to music in the gazebo at the cliff, or on the beach, or even sometimes at the rocks down by the horses. It didn’t matter where we were. All that mattered was we were together, and when we fell into each other’s gaze, we became awestruck with wonder at how connected our souls were.
He tried so hard to recreate that, to find me by looking into my eyes, especially after my mom passed away. At the time, I was empty, a void of sorrow that nobody could fill. I remember how hard he tried to love me during those awful years, until finally it broke my heart tocontinue to watch him try like that, and I pushed him away – for his sake. Looking at him now, I see the same boy, the one who would stop at nothing to love me, even if it meant giving me space.
The silence is interrupted by the sound of crying. Matt’s brow furrows. “Shit,” he mutters.
Brett.
He helps me up and opens the front door. Brett’s standing in the kitchen, wide-eyed, face streaked with tears, holding Matt’s cell phone.
“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” Matt asks.
“Daddy!” She rushes over and grabs him around the waist fiercely, dropping his phone in the process. She squeezes him tightly.
“What is it, baby? What happened?” Matt asks.
Brett is inconsolable, shaking and quivering into her father’s stomach. He strokes her hair. “I woke up and everybody was gone,” she moans. She buries her face in his shirt. “I thought you went to heaven.” Her diminutive body heaves with each sob.
“Shh,” he tries to console her. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”
“And then I looked for you,” Brett goes on, raising her red face to address me. “But I couldn’t find you anywhere either.”
I crouch down in front of her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. We went outside to chat, me and your dad. We didn’t want to wake you.”
