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“I don’t know,” Michael mumbles. He doesn’t look good right now.
I know he must be feeling awful. Michael loves his family more than anything. He’s lived for them his entire life and it must be killing him that he caused his brother pain.
“I-I’ll talk to him,” I say, although I would rather do anything but that right now.
But Matthew deserves an explanation. The only problem is, I’m not sure how to go about it. All I have are apologies but no definite reason why I slept with his brother. Apologies will never be enough.
“He might not want to meet up with you, though,” Michael says, leaning away from the wall. He gives me one last look before heading further into the house and toward Noah’s room.
I head into mine and fall onto my bed. I really want to fall asleep. When I have problems that I have no clue how to deal with, my default solution has always been to sleep. I tell myself it’ll all make sense in the morning and then I close my eyes. But it’s 8 p.m. and I have to tuck my son into bed and take care of a lot of other things. I can’t afford to forget right now, and I definitely can’t afford to sleep.
I get to my feet and I’m about to head over to Noah and Michael when my phone pings with a text. It’s from Matthew. I guess a part of me had been expecting it.
It’s just four simple words.
We need to talk.
My stomach roils. I quickly tell him that we can meet at the coffee shop the next morning, anytime he can. He replies with an “Okay,” and that’s it.
I suppose it’s better than nothing and I’m glad he wants to talk. Although I’m dreading what he has to say to me. I get to my feet to tell Michael, but when I get to the room, he’s fast asleep on Noah’s bed. Noah’s little body is on Michael’s chest as his father cradles his head.
I almost burst into tears at the sight, and it hits me how grateful I should be for all this. My son is happy in the arms of his father. I could lie to myself all I want, but the truth is, he would have always needed Michael—it was wrong of me to have kept them apart for too long. Staring at them now, I actually feel my heart become whole. I never even realized it wasn’t before.
Despite the setbacks and problems that have risen, I’m glad for Michael in my life right now. He has become a solid rock. Everyone needs someone, and I’m glad I have him. I close Noah’s door gently and head to the kitchen, where I hurriedly wash the dishes and take care of some other chores before going to bed. Sleep comes easily after the hectic day I’ve had.
My only thought as I drift off is how I’m going to talk to Matthew Crane the next day.
* * *
“He sent you a text?” Michael asks me with a frown.
It’s morning and I’m preparing breakfast for my son and his father. Michael’s dark hair is a disheveled mess atop his head and he still looks a little groggy.
“Yeah, he did. He asked to meet up,” I reply as I place a cup of coffee in front of him.
Noah stares at the cup in front of his father and even before he speaks, I already know what’s coming. “Mama, I want coffee, too.”
“No,” Michael and I say simultaneously.
“Why not?” he questions with a pout.
“Because orange juice tastes way better,” I assure him, setting a cup down for him.
He stares at his father, who prompts him with a smile, and he sighs before taking a sip of his juice. Michael ruffles his hair.
"Attaboy,” he says, then turns to me. “What time are we meeting Matt?”
I raise an eyebrow. “We?”
“Yes, we. My brother’s pissed at both of us, so we should go see him together,” he states.
“I’m not sure that’s what he wants, Mike,” I say uneasily. “He sentmethe text, meaning he wants to talk to me alone.”
Michael thinks about that for a moment before taking a deep breath.
“I guess you’re right.”
“Why’s Uncle Matt upset with both of you?” Noah questions.
