Chapter Nineteen

Two days. Matt couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone two days without seeing Lexi, or believe how much he missed her. Even when he was at work, unless the shift fell on a weekend, she was there, so her absence wasn’t accidental. She was avoiding him. And he couldn’t exactly blame her. He’d been taken aback to find out her house was ready early, but it was more than that. He just assumed he’d spend the next few days in some kind of domestic-bliss bubble, with Lexi in his life and his bed, maybe accompanied with breakfast, some syrup thrown in to ruin his sheets. Things were going to be different. He’d have time.

Then Keith had showed up, the only goddamn contractor to finish a project early since a long-dead prehistoric dude had rolled a rock in front of a cave and grunted the word for door, and what had been fun and carefree turned into a choice. Then Lexi had made hers, and Matt had been too afraid to say the words that could have stopped her.

He couldn’t ask her to stay.

He wanted her to be happy, and he still didn’t think he could be that guy. The problem was, without her he still wasn’t that guy. He loved Lexi. He didn’t have any problem admitting that to himself, at least not anymore, but loving her wasn’t the problem.

Loving her enough was.

Because he loved her enough to let her go. To find someone who knew what he wanted, who wanted the same things she did.

He tipped back his third warm beer of the day, wondering if Brews Brothers had ever familiarized itself with the concept of refrigeration. And why Matt had needed more than two decades and the threat of losing Lexi to realize it wasn’t that he had a great life and a great best friend, but that he had a great life because of his great best friend.

But she wanted something he wasn’t sure he could give her, and there was nothing he could do about that to make the stale air in that bar any easier to breathe.

He didn’t look up when someone sat beside him. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the bar was almost empty. Sitting on the barstool directly next to someone under those conditions was akin to not skipping a urinal, and Matt was in no mood then to look one of those fuckers in the eye.

“You called in sick,” the fucker said. “The best I can recall, that’s a first.”

Matt knew that voice. He looked up as Diego caught the beer the bartender slid his way. As soon as his palm hit the bottle, Diego made a face. Must’ve been warm.

“Personal day,” Matt said, taking a swig of his own drink.

“At the bar?”

“Well,” Matt said, “Lexi isn’t here. And Lexi isn’t supposed to be here. It’s pretty much the only place I can sit where I don’t have to look at her or see that glaring empty space she used to fill.”

Diego laughed softly. “So who screwed up this one?”

Matt shot him a look of utter disgust. “Do you actually think it could have been her?”

Diego shrugged. “Women aren’t infallible,” he said, chasing the statement with a swallow that emptied half his bottle. “Maybe not even Lexi.”

Matt immediately felt like shit. Diego had been cheated on and divorced by a woman who’d hung the moon, stars, and her underwear on some other guy’s bedpost, and it had taken him a long time to get over it. Matt wasn’t sure how a man could ever climb back to trust after something like that, but if anyone deserved the chance to get there, Diego did.

“Lexi is definitely not perfect,” Matt said with a sour laugh. “But who the hell wants to live with that?” He sighed and tapped the bottle harder than intended, inadvertently signaling for another—something he didn’t realize until a fourth warm beer hit the scarred counter in front of him. He stared at it for a minute, then said, “Screw it,” and tipped it back.

“Who wants to live with perfection?” Diego asked. He gave a humorless laugh. “Women, mostly.”

“Well I can’t speak for her, but the gist of it is simple. She wants something solid. Marriage, kids, the whole deal.”

“And what do you want?” Diego asked.

Matt was quiet for a long moment. “I just want her.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

“I don’t know if I can give her what she wants. I’ve never had a real relationship in my life. I’ve never wanted one.”

Diego hung his head, laughing. Eventually, he asked, “Have you ever wondered why you’ve never wanted one?” When Matt didn’t answer, he added, “Because you already have it, man. You’ve just been too blind to see it.”

Matt frowned. “Lexi and I are…were…weren’t even a consideration until she moved in with me. I know you guys don’t believe us, but literally, nothing had ever happened.”

“You’re missing the point. You’ve had everything together. Everything. You blew past the false expectations years ago, the romanticizing, the part where you’re blind to her faults and she’s telling her friends how perfect you are. Screw that. You both know better.”

“I’m not sure this is helping,” Matt said drily.

Diego laughed quietly, shaking his head. “She already knows you leave your dirty clothes all over the place—at least that’s what I heard her tell Caitlin—and you know she can’t cook and—”

“She leaves the orange juice out,” Matt grumbled.

“Right. You guys didn’t start by screwing each other’s brains out thinking everything was perfect, only to wake up to reality. There’s a reason she’s such a big part of your life. She fits. You’ve never thought about looking for a relationship because you had one.”

Matt didn’t say anything. Could Diego have a point?

“This beer is hot,” Diego said after a moment.

Well, he definitely had a point there.

“I just don’t know about this marriage thing,” Matt finally said. “She’s wanted that forever. No woman wants a man to show up with a ring saying I guess so.”

“Let me tell you something about marriage,” Diego said, his tone more matter of fact than bitter. “Women seem to be wired to want it. Men are more wired to…accept it. Now, I’m not saying there aren’t guys out there waiting for the right woman to come along, biding their time by choosing their tuxes and seating arrangements, but in general, they don’t. The fact that you haven’t been wasting away looking for someone to give a ring to doesn’t mean it’s not what you want. It means you’re normal.”

“Okay, but if Lexi is the one, shouldn’t I want that?”

“If Lexi is the one, you should want her. You tolerate the wedding, like most of us, and you love the woman.” He shot him a sideways look. “You’ve done the hard part. You opened your eyes. Now open your mouth and keep your foot out of it.”

Matt shook his head. “What if she—”

Diego cut him off with a shake of his head. “Every minute you sit here doubting the size of your balls is another minute she’s sitting somewhere hurting. For a reason not a single one of us has been able to decipher, she loves you. Not even you could be dense enough to doubt that.” Diego put a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Despite her taste in men, she’s an incredibly capable woman. Why don’t you stop thinking for her and just let her decide?”

Because what if she says no?

But Diego’s words had resonated. Matt stood, threw down enough cash to cover his drinks and Diego’s, and said, “Come on. You’re driving.”

If Lexi didn’t want Matt, she’d have to tell him herself.

…

Lexi had been moping for two solid days.

She hadn’t seen Matt, but she knew he’d left the house because his Jeep was gone. Her mom had asked why Lexi didn’t go with him when he picked it up. From her mother’s description, it sounded like Jack had given him the ride, so Lexi had just said that they’d been out in the area and decided to stop.

She’d deal with her parents later.

For now, she had her hands full with Elsie.

“Want some tea?” the older woman called from her kitchenette.

“Sure,” Lexi replied, then quickly added, “but hold the whiskey.”

“Hold it hell,” came the reply. “I’m going to drink it!”

“Don’t put any in my tea,” Lexi repeated, louder this time, wondering how in the world she’d ended up with such a character in her life…and what might change if she and Matt continued to avoid each other. Lexi honestly couldn’t see herself ghosting Elsie, but she’d hate for her to ever feel like she had to take a side. Knowing Elsie, though, she’d tell them both off and go about her business like nothing had happened.

If only Lexi could do that so easily.

While she waited for Elsie to bring in her drink cart, Lexi studied the pictures on the wall. Elsie had talked her through them a hundred times, so they were as familiar to Lexi as if they were her own. And many were. There was one of baby Matt with his parents and one of Elsie with her late husband, but the rest were the story of not just Matt’s life, but Lexi’s. From diapers to prom… She touched a fingertip to the formal picture and tried to remember if she’d even considered going with anyone else.

Elsie came in and handed Lexi a cup. Still lost in her melancholy, Lexi took a sip and nearly spit it out. “I said no alcohol!” she said.

“You said no whiskey,” Elsie said. “That’s bourbon.”

Lexi put the cup back on the cart. “You can’t just go around spiking drinks, Elsie.”

“You looked like you needed a pick-me-up.” She sat on the sofa and patted the cushion next to hers. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“No,” Lexi said. “Talking won’t change anything.” But she sat anyway, curling up on the cushion and resting her head on Elsie’s lap. Lexi was tired. She’d survived the past forty-eight hours on cold cereal and Uber Eats, too afraid to risk her beautiful new kitchen by cooking in it. Besides, who would happen over to put out the fire this time? Certainly not Matt. She wondered if he’d been eating alone or had just skipped it altogether. They usually had breakfast at the station at shift change, but on the days he came off shift or didn’t work, he’d always come to her house. She hadn’t realized how empty her mornings were without Matt and Waffles barging in.

“Matt’s grandfather was a stubborn old coot,” Elsie said. “And Matt’s daddy was a chip off the old blockhead.” She stroked Lexi’s hair as she spoke, her attention absently on a corner of the room, and Lexi wondered what her mind’s eye saw. “It’s like the good Lord decided to test me with those two. And then there was Matt. Poor boy doesn’t even remember his daddy, obviously wasn’t raised with his influence, but he couldn’t be more like him.”

“I bet that’s bittersweet for you,” Lexi said. Elsie had lost her only son and her daughter-in-law. Lexi couldn’t imagine.

“You’ve got that right,” Elsie said with a laugh that surprised Lexi. “Lord, I made it through one of them and here comes a second. I thank God every day for your parents. I was in bad shape then.”

“Matt and I had a…” She wasn’t sure what to call it. Not a fight. Not even a disagreement, really. Just…an end. The thought of that made her eyes fill with tears, and when the first one rolled across her cheek, Elsie gently wiped it away.

“You are two peas in a pod, you know that?” Elsie pointed at one of the photos. Lexi and Matt crammed onto the single narrow seat of a rope swing. She had her hair in pigtails and held on for dear life while he wore a mischievous grin. The reason wasn’t obvious in the photo, but Lexi remembered the moment well. He’d been determined to swing high enough to grab a flower from a branch, all because Lexi had said it was pretty.

“I think we were five,” Lexi said.

“You know, he kept that picture on his nightstand until the day he moved out. ’Course, I reckon it could have stayed there after. I don’t know.”

“That’s not possible,” Lexi said. “I would have noticed.”

“You two were at your house more often than his,” Elsie said. “And he’d tuck it in a drawer during the day. I once asked him why he kept up the routine. He must have been sixteen then. Said it was the only thing you’d ever said you wanted that he hadn’t been able to give you.”

Lexi tore her gaze from the decades-old photo and stared at Elsie. “He could have climbed a ladder if it meant that much to him.”

“Maybe,” she said, “but you didn’t ask him to do that. You asked him to swing higher.”

“I was five.”

“Yes,” Elsie conceded. Then added, “Funny thing is, so was he.”

The words did achy things to Lexi’s heart, but those weird flutters seemed to have become part of her life now. “He’s never said anything about…us,” Lexi said. “All these years, and he’s never once acted interested. Not until I was ready to move on.”

Elsie raised an arched brow. “And that’s not reason enough?”

“He doesn’t take anything seriously,” Lexi said. “Except his job. I don’t know where I fit in.”

“Lexi,” Elsie said. “You don’t have to fit anywhere. You already belong. You’ve been the center of everything for as long as he can remember.”

Lexi fingered the quilt that hung over the back of the sofa. Elsie had made it, years ago, and it was one more thing that drove home how intricately linked her life was with Matt’s. “How do I risk that? That it might not work?”

Elsie gave Lexi one of those wise, knowing looks that seemed to come only from village elders. Then she said, “When you consider the alternatives, how can you not?” After a moment of quiet, she said, “Matt came to see me yesterday.”

“I’m glad,” Lexi said. Actually, she was surprised, because Elsie was a bit much for Matt. She found it ironic that Elsie seemed to feel the same way about him.

“Aren’t you going to ask what for?” Elsie asked.

“I think I need to worry a little less about what Matt does,” Lexi said. She sat up, wiped her eyes, and forced a smile. “But I’m glad he was here.”

Elsie smiled, and if Lexi wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of mischief there. “I think you will be.”