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That he was so broken inside, and I hadn’t even realized how much grief he had been carrying. Whatever he felt… the fact that it had led him to drink his day away crushed me.
Was I going to be enough for him? Enough to pull him out of this, make him realize how much good there was still in the world? I had lost a parent too, and I suspected I knew what he was feeling. But was I… enough? For him—for us? I tried to shake the thought away—what we had was good, and I knew it. I suspected he knew it too, because he showed me, every day, how right we were together, and I had never doubted it.
But this—seeing him like this? It broke my heart.
“Matthew,” I whispered, feeling the tears pool in my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
I stepped up closer to the bed, my hand brushing his shoulder. I brushed the hair off his sweaty forehead, and then I tried to give him a light shake to wake him up, but he didn’t rouse. Even after I called his names a few times and shook him harder, the giant man didn’t stir. I realized that his pillow was damp, and I could see the tears that had trailed down his face.
“Oh, babe…” I choked out.
After all the times he had comforted me, just by simply being there… I wanted to give that feeling back to him. I always felt so safe and protected in his arms, and I hoped mine would give him the same feeling. I slid into the bed next to him, under the covers, pushing most of the blankets he had turned into a giant nest onto the floor, and I pulled myself against him. And I held him, tucked my face against his damp shirt, and listened to the sound of his heart beating in his chest.
I didn’t know how long I held him like that before the heat of his body lulled me into sleep, but later, when he woke up, it was to my arms still wrapped around his back, snuggled against him like he was my life-sized body pillow. Holding tight to him, like I couldn’t let go.
“Noelle?” He murmured, pushing the hair out of my face, and tipping my chin up so my eyes would meet his. “What are you doing here, sweetheart?”
“You wouldn’t answer my calls or texts,” I murmured as I stared at him. At his blue eyes, rimmed with red. It killed me that he had been crying alone. “I was worried about you.”
“You were—” He sucked in a deep breath. “Noelle.” He squeezed his eyes shut, as though he felt guilty for my worrying. “You didn’t have to worry about me, I promise.”
“I can’t help it, you big dummy,” I said softly, letting the tears fall from my eyes. “Of course, I’m going to worry about you. I care about you too much to do anything less.” My feelings for him were too big to ignore anymore, and those three words were hovering right at the tip of my tongue. I could feel them.
His arms wrapped around me, finally, and he held me tight. “I just had a rough day, I promise. Nothing you have to worry about.”
“Just a rough day?” I asked in disbelief. “Matthew… please don’t shut me out. I’m here for you. You can tell me what’s going on.”
He shook his head, hand running over my hair, over and over, like that gesture would calm him down. I bit my lip as I stared up at him, at his glassy eyes.
“I talked to Elizabeth, Matthew…” I said, voice so low it hardly even counted as a whisper. I could barely hear myself, even in the quiet of his bedroom.
Snowball had been curled up at his feet when I entered the room, and now she was laying with her head resting on my feet, staring up at me as if to ask, is he going to be alright? I knew she was just a dog, but even I couldn’t have answered that question. I buried my head back in his shirt.
“What?” He stilled. His voice was rough. “What did she tell you?” When I just held him tighter in reply, Matthew sighed, planting his nose on the top of my head as he inhaled deeply. “I just—”
“Does this have anything to do with why you didn’t want to spend the weekend together?” I asked, trying to force myself to breathe evenly.
“No,” he said, a little too quickly, but then he frowned down at me with a little shake of his head, one that rustled his long blonde strands. “Yes. I…” I smoothed over his t-shirt, running my hand up and down his spine in what I hoped was a soothing motion. “I did want to spend the weekend together,” he said, and I resisted the urge to snort.
“Funny way of showing it,” I smiled. I could have told him what Elizabeth had told me, but I felt like he needed to be the one to confide in me, to share it with me. And if we were strong enough… we would make it through this. Together.
“This weekend… Tomorrow…” His voice got all choked up, and I rubbed my hand over his back, hoping the soothing motion would encourage him to continue. “It’s the anniversary of my parents’ death.” Matthew finally said, and even though I already knew, the grief in his statement punched me in the gut. I didn’t have to wonder why he didn’t want to talk, why he was pushing me away.
“Oh, Matthew.” If I hadn’t been wrapped around him, my first instinct would have been to put my hand over my heart. “I’m sorry—”
He shook his head at me. “You didn’t know… and I didn’t tell you.”
“Will you?” I asked tenatively, hoping I wasn’t crossing a line. “Tell me now, I mean?”
He paused as if he was thinking deeply on it, trying to decide what to say. “They’ve been gone ten years, and I still just…” He choked back another sob, the grief engulfing his whole body. “I’ve never talked about it,” he finally whispered. “With anyone.”
“Not Bryan or even with your sister?” I was sure she felt the same way that he did, and yet here he was, alone and carrying this all by himself.
He shook his head. “I didn’t want to burden Tess with my grief or put that on her. She was going through her own, losing our parents so young. And Bryan… he’s always there for me, but it’s different. He doesn’t understand…” Matthew’s eyes were rimmed with fresh tears, and I understood what he meant.
How he felt.
I rubbed gently over his shoulder blades. “No, maybe not.” I took a deep breath. “But I do. And you can talk to me about it. You have me.” We locked eyes, and I knew the realization was sinking into him. That he’s never shared his despair over losing his parents with anyone, thinking no one else would understand, and they might not. But I did. I went through the same loss. The only difference was that I had been young enough to not feel his presence so fully in my life before having it ripped away. But he had always been there, like a ghost who couldn’t find his way to the other side, and I had felt his loss my whole life.
