Something Forever
Page 32
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Matthew stopped in front of me, peering down at me. Either he looked really concerned or really scared...I couldn’t tell which one. “What happened the night your friend died?”
Where was he going with this? “I already told you. She drove wasted and died from a car accident. I was—”
Matthew dropped to his knees to meet me at my eye level and interrupted, “You’re hiding something. You didn’t finish the story, did you?”
My eyes flickered back and forth; I couldn’t look at him. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“How did Amber die?” Matthew’s tone was calm, but I felt goose bumps up my arms. It was the way he had asked, like he knew. Surely he couldn’t have.
“I already told you. What the f**k, Matthew? What is wrong with you?” I stammered, standing up to walk away, but Matthew gripped my arm.
“Sit down.” His tone was cold and demanding.
Under other circumstances I would have told him to screw himself and walked away, but I listened. Clearly something was bothering him. When I sat, Matthew sat on the floor with his knees tucked in. “Please answer with the truth. What do you mean ‘she didn’t die alone’? Did your friend, Amber James, kill someone the night of her accident?”
How could he possibly freakin’ know? Not even Jenna knew. And there was no way Jenna would spill the beans if she did. Regardless, I needed to tell him the truth. Oh God! Now I remembered. My tongue had slipped at the gravesite. Maybe it would do some good to get it off my chest. Matthew would understand. Amber was right. I had always been a chicken shit.
Inhaling a deep breath, I let it all out. “Not a day goes by where I don’t hold this guilt inside of me. It has been eating me alive. There are days when I’m fine and days when I feel so much remorse that I wish it was me. I could have prevented this.”
Matthew lowered his head. Taking a deep breath, his chest expanded. With a puff of heavy air, he looked at me again. His hands gripped the sofa and he seemed thoroughly pissed off. “Tell me. It’s a simple word. Yes, or no?” His words seethed out of his mouth in a way I’d never heard before. He was right. It was a simple answer, one word that was hard to say.
I looked away shamefully. “Yes. Amber killed someone. She killed herself and someone else. So that makes me responsible for two deaths. Is that what you want to hear?” Tears started pouring down my cheeks.
Matthew was nonchalant about my tears, unlike before. He had a motive, but why? “When and where did it happen?” Matthew leaned in closer, as if I would speak faster.
“It was raining hard that night. We were at a party, somewhere near Santa Monica. Amber took off. From the police report and what her parents told me, she ran a red light on 7th Street. I think—” I stopped talking when Matthew’s face turned pale.
“No...no...no,” he repeated, gripping his hair tightly. Standing up, he stared at me like I was his worst enemy. That stone cold look he gave me was one I was not prepared for. That alone killed me, stabbing my heart a thousand times.
I had no clue what the hell was the matter with him. “Matthew. What’s wrong?” When I took a step to him, he jolted back. He didn’t want me near him, and that action twisted painfully in my heart. Tears began to fall again.
“Did you know?” He took another step back.
“Know what?” I wrapped my arms to my chest to hold my shaky body together. “Please, I don’t understand.” I felt like I was losing him and I had no idea what I had done.
Matthew raked his hair back and turned his back on me. He was now closer to the door. “Amber...killed...Tessa. Tessa’s car was hit on 7th Street, and she died the same night your friend died. She...killed...my...Tessa.” Matthew’s tone was soft, but I could feel every stabbing pain.
Dead silence filled the air. I stopped breathing. This wasn’t happening. Not my Matthew. Not the man I wanted forever with. What should I say? There were no words for comfort and no words to apologize. I tried to take a step to him, but my body was too stiff—too much in shock—that all I could do was let the tears flow and try to find the right words...but nothing.
“Matthew.” I swallowed, hearing my voice crack. “I swear to you that I didn’t know. I never knew the name of the person. I never wanted to know her name. The guilt was already too much, and I thought if I didn’t know her name then it would be as if it never happened. I know that it’s probably not right to think that way, but it was the only way I could go on.”
“Her name was Tessa Young,” he gritted through his teeth softly, but sternly, as if I should have known.
“I’m sorry, Matthew. I really didn’t know.” Tears kept flowing, and no matter how much I tried to stop them, I couldn’t. Although Matthew was physically present, he was long gone. I’d lost him. I knew this when he wouldn’t look at me, even after I apologized, even after telling him I didn’t know.
I found the courage to stand next to him and place my hand on his shoulder. “Matthew, please say something.”
“Becca,” he said, inhaling a deep sigh, “I need some space right now.” Without looking at me, he walked out the door with his head down.
I dropped to the floor where he left me and sobbed into the palms of my hands. My pounding heart hurt like hell, traveling through every nerve, bone, and muscle in me. Matthew was simply gone. He said he needed space, but he might as well have said we were done, because that was how it felt. All of my energy had been spent pouring out the gut-wrenching ache through my tears. I didn’t know how long I sat there crying, but I sat there until there were no more tears to be shed. When they ran out, I cried more empty tears.
Where was he going with this? “I already told you. She drove wasted and died from a car accident. I was—”
Matthew dropped to his knees to meet me at my eye level and interrupted, “You’re hiding something. You didn’t finish the story, did you?”
My eyes flickered back and forth; I couldn’t look at him. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“How did Amber die?” Matthew’s tone was calm, but I felt goose bumps up my arms. It was the way he had asked, like he knew. Surely he couldn’t have.
“I already told you. What the f**k, Matthew? What is wrong with you?” I stammered, standing up to walk away, but Matthew gripped my arm.
“Sit down.” His tone was cold and demanding.
Under other circumstances I would have told him to screw himself and walked away, but I listened. Clearly something was bothering him. When I sat, Matthew sat on the floor with his knees tucked in. “Please answer with the truth. What do you mean ‘she didn’t die alone’? Did your friend, Amber James, kill someone the night of her accident?”
How could he possibly freakin’ know? Not even Jenna knew. And there was no way Jenna would spill the beans if she did. Regardless, I needed to tell him the truth. Oh God! Now I remembered. My tongue had slipped at the gravesite. Maybe it would do some good to get it off my chest. Matthew would understand. Amber was right. I had always been a chicken shit.
Inhaling a deep breath, I let it all out. “Not a day goes by where I don’t hold this guilt inside of me. It has been eating me alive. There are days when I’m fine and days when I feel so much remorse that I wish it was me. I could have prevented this.”
Matthew lowered his head. Taking a deep breath, his chest expanded. With a puff of heavy air, he looked at me again. His hands gripped the sofa and he seemed thoroughly pissed off. “Tell me. It’s a simple word. Yes, or no?” His words seethed out of his mouth in a way I’d never heard before. He was right. It was a simple answer, one word that was hard to say.
I looked away shamefully. “Yes. Amber killed someone. She killed herself and someone else. So that makes me responsible for two deaths. Is that what you want to hear?” Tears started pouring down my cheeks.
Matthew was nonchalant about my tears, unlike before. He had a motive, but why? “When and where did it happen?” Matthew leaned in closer, as if I would speak faster.
“It was raining hard that night. We were at a party, somewhere near Santa Monica. Amber took off. From the police report and what her parents told me, she ran a red light on 7th Street. I think—” I stopped talking when Matthew’s face turned pale.
“No...no...no,” he repeated, gripping his hair tightly. Standing up, he stared at me like I was his worst enemy. That stone cold look he gave me was one I was not prepared for. That alone killed me, stabbing my heart a thousand times.
I had no clue what the hell was the matter with him. “Matthew. What’s wrong?” When I took a step to him, he jolted back. He didn’t want me near him, and that action twisted painfully in my heart. Tears began to fall again.
“Did you know?” He took another step back.
“Know what?” I wrapped my arms to my chest to hold my shaky body together. “Please, I don’t understand.” I felt like I was losing him and I had no idea what I had done.
Matthew raked his hair back and turned his back on me. He was now closer to the door. “Amber...killed...Tessa. Tessa’s car was hit on 7th Street, and she died the same night your friend died. She...killed...my...Tessa.” Matthew’s tone was soft, but I could feel every stabbing pain.
Dead silence filled the air. I stopped breathing. This wasn’t happening. Not my Matthew. Not the man I wanted forever with. What should I say? There were no words for comfort and no words to apologize. I tried to take a step to him, but my body was too stiff—too much in shock—that all I could do was let the tears flow and try to find the right words...but nothing.
“Matthew.” I swallowed, hearing my voice crack. “I swear to you that I didn’t know. I never knew the name of the person. I never wanted to know her name. The guilt was already too much, and I thought if I didn’t know her name then it would be as if it never happened. I know that it’s probably not right to think that way, but it was the only way I could go on.”
“Her name was Tessa Young,” he gritted through his teeth softly, but sternly, as if I should have known.
“I’m sorry, Matthew. I really didn’t know.” Tears kept flowing, and no matter how much I tried to stop them, I couldn’t. Although Matthew was physically present, he was long gone. I’d lost him. I knew this when he wouldn’t look at me, even after I apologized, even after telling him I didn’t know.
I found the courage to stand next to him and place my hand on his shoulder. “Matthew, please say something.”
“Becca,” he said, inhaling a deep sigh, “I need some space right now.” Without looking at me, he walked out the door with his head down.
I dropped to the floor where he left me and sobbed into the palms of my hands. My pounding heart hurt like hell, traveling through every nerve, bone, and muscle in me. Matthew was simply gone. He said he needed space, but he might as well have said we were done, because that was how it felt. All of my energy had been spent pouring out the gut-wrenching ache through my tears. I didn’t know how long I sat there crying, but I sat there until there were no more tears to be shed. When they ran out, I cried more empty tears.