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Matt stared at his brothers and felt all the carefully constructed walls he’d erected over the years begin to shake.
He was tired. So fucking tired. Of pain, regrets, anger…
Secrets.
He couldn’t do this anymore. But more than that…he didn’t want to.
“I know why Mom killed herself.”
His words were the equivalent of a bomb going off. Gage and Conor both jerked as if he’d struck them.
Silence fell for an uncomfortable amount of time before Gage hoarsely said, “What?”
Matt closed his eyes. “I was with her the night…” He swallowed thickly. “The night she committed suicide.”
“You never told us that,” Conor said, speaking up when it was apparent Gage couldn’t. Gage was always the closest to Mom, and Matt knew his brother had been seeking answers, trying to figure out why she took her own life.
Matt could never bring himself to tell Gage why. Because he was a selfish son of a bitch who was too fucking afraid of losing the only family he had left. Not that it mattered. The secret had taken its toll and created a distance between him and his brothers anyway.
“Tell us now,” Gage demanded.
Matt took a long look at his brothers, certain that what he said next would destroy what was left of him, of them.
Fatigue took over as he opened the door on the memory, his words wooden as he let his mind drift back to that night. “It was a few days after New Year’s. You’d spent the holidays skiing with a friend, Conor, and…” He turned to look at Gage. “You’d gone back to college early for a frat party or something.” Gage nodded just once, confirming the truth. “Mom had been pestering me to go out to dinner with her to celebrate my birthday.”
“Your birthday is the end of November,” Conor pointed out.
“I know. I’d canceled on her…a lot, always claiming I had too much work to do. Finally, I ran out of excuses and just decided to get it over with.” Bile rose because that was truly how he’d viewed that night. As an unwanted chore, something to grin and bear.
God. What would he give to spend one more birthday with Mom?
“Start at the beginning,” Conor said, when Matt stopped talking. His brother was right. This story was long overdue. He’d tell it from beginning to end and then…
He couldn’t think about what came after.
“I picked Mom up and drove us to the restaurant,” he started, the story coming out in starts and stops as he forced himself to say every painful word.
* * *
Matt guided Mom inside, the restaurant crowded as most people were still hesitant to give up holiday mode. He’d called ahead and made reservations, so he wasn’t worried about having to wait for a table.
Mom held a wrapped birthday package in her hands. He’d offered to open it in the car, so she didn’t have to carry it into the restaurant, but she insisted that they do it at the table, that she wanted to see his face clearly when he opened it.
“Mr. Russo, if you’ll follow me,” the hostess said, leading them through the crowded dining room. Matt was almost to the table when he realized Mom had stopped walking.
Turning back, he noticed she was looking at something across the restaurant. Matt followed her gaze, cursing under his breath. “Fuck.”
There, in a corner booth, was Dad and his latest mistress. Given the close, somewhat awkward way they were sitting—Dad’s arms spread out along the back of the seat, the woman’s hands under the table—as well as her flushed face, Matt was willing to bet she was giving his father a hand job.
If Mom hadn’t been there, Matt would have smirked and admired his dad’s brazenness.
One of the first lessons Matt had learned from his father was that marriage didn’t equate to fidelity. It had been a rude awakening at fourteen to learn that Dad was cheating on Mom, but as always, Dante Russo found a way to explain it as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
He’d told Matt that Mom was perfectly aware of his cheating. Then he’d explained that, out of respect to the mother of his children, a real man never flaunted his mistresses or mentioned them. Made Matt swear to never speak to his mother or brothers about it, told him it was their “little secret” with a wink and a leer, like they were part of some bad boys club.
After that, Dad had launched into an even bigger lecture on the levels of mistresses, beginning with one-night stands all the way through the “kept” woman, who was monogamous to him in exchange for an apartment, clothing, an allowance. Matt wasn’t sure where this latest woman ranked on the list.
Stepping back next to her, Matt said, “Shit. I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t know they’d be here. We can go somewhere else if you want.”
