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My complex web of lies and truth secure, I handed him Xavi’s card, which he immediately opened and read aloud.
Like a ripple that chases
The slightest caress of the breeze,
Is that how you want me to follow you?
Xavi
Matthew whistled when he was done. “Not subtle, is he?”
“He didn’t write it or anything,” I said. “It’s a famous Japanese poem. I looked it up.”
Also the truth. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Xavi wasn’t much for books, but he knew I was. He knew I’d appreciate a well-placed verse more than most people. And if he had actually taken the time to track this one down…
Matthew handed me the card, then went back to doing crunches. “I don’t know how I feel about reading my little sister’s love letters, Fran.”
“Don’t be a jerk. What does it mean, though?”
“Seems pretty clear to me. He’s asking what you want.”
I huffed. “Which is…”
Matthew rolled over into a plank. “Do you really need me to tell you that?”
“I do when I don’t know!” I cried.
Matthew wasn’t usually this cagey. Most of the time, we were more than happy to give unsolicited advice about each other’s lives. Now it was like he knew I was keeping things back, and he wasn’t going to volunteer any clarity because of it.
“You messaged him, Frankie. Seems like you want to talk to him.”
I made a face. “And say what? Hey, don’t know if you remember me, but thanks for the two one-night stands, they were super fun. Oh, and by the way, I got pregnant that first night and had your baby and never told you.”
I bit my lip. More lies. It had been a month, not two nights. And yeah, I was way past that conversation, though that didn’t stop my anxious mind from reliving it.
I huffed, set the flowers on Matthew’s dresser, and sat on his bed. Matthew just kept moving through another ab exercise like I wasn’t there before finally pausing on his forearms again.
“It seems like he a lot more than remembers you. And he sure as shit seemed to remember you at Christmas.”
“You don’t want to know,” I muttered at the ceiling. He really, really didn’t.
“I thought you were going to have mercy on me with that.”
Was it just me, or did he sound hurt? It wasn’t like he ever wanted details about my sex life. Or maybe it was just that he knew I hadn’t really had one since then.
“I can’t go there again,” I added. “It was bad enough back then. He was engaged, you know.”
“Humph.” He did know. “What about now?”
“Well, in December, he said he was single.” I flopped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. “I wanted to tell him. But I just kept thinking of…”
I drifted off. This wasn’t working. Half-truths and four-month-old versions of this story weren’t getting me anywhere.
“Thinking of what?” Matthew asked from the floor.
“Mom.”
It slipped out before I could stop it. But then I realized it was true.
