I was being selfish. I knew this. But I didn’t want to see any of them. I didn’t want to see Jared, because I couldn’t get the image of him kissing Alexis out of my mind. I didn’t want to see my brother, because I knew he must be devastated. I didn’t want to see Meghan’s caring eyes, or Charlotte’s compassionate smile.
However, I desperately wanted to see Matt, but I couldn’t summon the courage.
It was November, and I was ridiculously pregnant. I was now so round that I couldn’t stand myself. I felt puffy and swollen and as much as I loved my little girl, I was not a happy camper.
On the seventh day of my self-imposed exile, I heard a knock at the door. I heard Charlotte’s voice call, “Breakfast, Anabel.” I waited about a minute, and then I opened the door and came face to face with Matt.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted me.
I bit my lip and stared at him, shaking my head.
He bent over and picked up my tray. “Listen, I know you don’t feel like talking right now.”
I nodded cautiously.
“But I thought maybe, if it was okay with you, I could read to you. Would that be alright?”
I wanted to say no, I really did. I wanted to tell him to get far away from me because I would ruin his life. I wasn’t what he deserved—he deserved someone who was at least somewhat sane.
But my feelings for him overwhelmed me, and I nodded and stepped back.
He carried my tray into my room, and I almost smiled when I saw what he had brought. It was a beautiful leather-bound version—just like one I had had on Caereon—of Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. The book’s presence made me think of a conversation we had once had.
We were headed to a hearing and had been riding in silence when I got annoyed. “Why won’t you talk to me?” I had asked.
“On what particular subject would you like to converse?” he had asked lazily, taking a turn in the truck. “Shoes and ships and sealing wax?”
“No,” I had rejoined with a smile. “Cabbages and kings.”
“Excellent. Then we can discuss next why the sea is boiling hot.”
“And whether pigs have wings,” I had finished. Then I had spontaneously kissed him on the cheek. “You’re fun sometimes. When you’re not being a total jerk.”
His hand flew to his face, and then he grinned at me. “You’re fun sometimes, too.”
It was that memory that gave me the courage to drop onto my bed and eat my pancakes and cantaloupe while Matt sat down in the armchair and read to me for two hours. Then he closed the book and asked, “Is it alright if I come back tomorrow?”
I had nodded, and he stood up. “Is there anything I can get you?”
I shook my head.
“Tomorrow at breakfast, then,” he promised, and showed himself out.
This continued for several days. We finished Alice and then moved on to Harry Potter, and he read to me for increasingly longer periods of time. When he got to the part about the three-headed dog, I thought I caught a twinkle in his eye, but then it went away and we finished Sorcerer’s Stone.
The following day I wondered what book he would bring next, and he carried my breakfast tray in along with a small binder. “I thought we’d do something different today,” he announced.
I looked at him.
“You haven’t said a word to me in over two weeks, Anabel,” he commented. “That hurts more than I can say.”
I scrambled for a pen, but he placed his hand over mine. “Let me finish.”
I nodded again and sat back on the bed.
“I thought about what I wanted to say to you, how I could comfort you, but I know that nothing I say will make you feel any less than what you currently do,” he continued. “I wish you would let me be there for you, but since you won’t, I need to find out something.”
I pursed my lips together and tugged on my hair. “Don’t do that, sweetheart,” he implored again. So I took a deep breath and met his eyes, and he went on, “Just let me read to you, okay? And if you can’t say anything to this, then I doubt you’ll have anything to say to me ever again, and I’ll leave you alone.”
So I sat there, and a smile spread across my face when he read Buttercup’s speech to Westley, proclaiming her love for him. When he finished with the door slamming in Buttercup’s face I looked at him, my eyes full of meaning, but he then launched into Shakespeare’s 116th sonnet. Then he read to me the discourse between Emma and Mr. Knightley as the two of them realized they were in love with each other. And just when I thought he had outdone himself, he launched into this:
“I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men.”
Then he stopped and looked at me, begging me with his eyes to speak. I opened my mouth, and willed myself to be strong. Taking a deep breath, I managed, “Have you even read Persuasion?”
“My mom made me,” he admitted, sitting next to me. “In case I ever needed to bring out the big guns with a girl.”
“Matt,” I began.
“It’s good to hear your voice,” he cut me off. “It sounds a bit out of tune.”
“I suppose it would.”
“Why won’t you talk to me?”
“Because I love you,” I told him. “But I don’t know if we can make this work.”
“Why?”
“Well, for starters, I’m having a baby in eight weeks,” I pointed out. “One that isn’t yours.” I stretched my legs out.
“That doesn’t bother me,” he replied.
I looked into his eyes, probing. “You sure about that?”
“It did at first,” he admitted. “But Emma’s a part of you. And I love all of you.”
Why was he so good? I looked away. “There’s another big problem.”
“What, honey? Tell me, and we’ll fix it.” He sounded sincere.
“I can’t have sex with you.” I flushed and looked down.
Now he put his arm around me. “Never?”
“Well, no, not never. “But I don’t know when I’ll be ready.” I sighed. “If I’ll be ready.”
“So you think that’s a problem?” he asked.
I met his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Matt. I know it’s probably a deal breaker.”
He nodded, and we sat there in silence. Then he finally said, “Not all of us are like Jared, you know.”
“You aren’t like him at all,” I responded. “But that’s not it.” Then I paused. “I have to tell you, I’m starting to wonder if there are any women in the DC area he hasn’t slept with.”
“He didn’t sleep with Alexis.”
“You should have seen them,” I shuddered. “I felt like I was intruding.”
“So you think he loves her? Is that it?” I couldn’t read Matt, but I figured I may as well be honest.
“No,” I admitted. “But she loves him. I know it, because she kissed him the same way I kiss you.” I started to wring my hands. “That’s what killed me, Matt. And I think that’s what would happen if Jared and I were ever together. It would always be one-sided.” I searched for words to try and explain. “He was completely convincing with her. So how do I know that it wasn’t all an act with me, you know?”
“He’s devastated that you won’t see him,” he confided. “I haven’t had the heart to tell him I’ve been spending time with you, even though you wouldn’t say anything to me.”
“He just doesn’t get it.” Now I started chewing on my nails. “Here’s my problem. We had this conversation where even though I told him I loved you, I got the impression he still had feelings for me, and then I saw him with her. And it just took everything out of me, because that just twisted me up inside. Why did it have to be Alexis?” I moaned.
“What are you saying, Anabel?”
“I’m saying that’s why it’s so hard for me,” I explained. “Facing him, it’s too much. I know why he did it, but they have something, Matt. Something real. Like what you and I have.”
He rubbed my arm. “I know, honey. I know.”
“I know how much you love me,” I told him. “I really do. But I also know that I can’t give you what you deserve.” I sighed. “It will take me a really long time to get to a place where I can do that, and it’s not fair for me to ask that of you.”
“Anabel,” he said. “Sweetheart, I’ve never had any expectations from you in that regard.”
I looked at him sharply. “You haven’t?”
“No, honey,” he soothed, stroking my face. “Look, you are right in that it is a deal breaker, but not now, not any time close to now. Down the road sometime. But you need to recover emotionally before we even try to go there.” He pulled me to him. “Is that really what all of this was about?”
“Just with you,” I almost laughed. “I can’t talk to my brother because his life is in shambles because of me. I can’t talk to Charlotte because she’ll ask me a million questions. And I can’t talk to Jared because he broke me again.”
He pulled away from me then, and put his hands on my shoulders. “Look at me, Anabel.” As I met his eyes, he sighed. “Let’s not stray from the subject, okay?”
I nodded again.
“I haven’t forgotten that you’re almost ten years younger than me, you know. And unlike Jared, I haven’t been with half the population of DC, and I would never push you into anything that you didn’t want—and weren’t ready—to do.”
“What if it takes a long time?” I asked in a small voice.
“Then I’ll wait.” He smiled at me.
“I‘m afraid of losing a part of me. Even worse, I‘m afraid that I already lost part of me, and I can‘t get it back and give it to you.” I now bit my lip so hard that I drew blood. “You shouldn‘t be with me.”
“Anabel, I‘m going to tell you something that I don‘t like to share, okay?” I nodded, and he went on. “You know I used to be Secret Service.”
“Yes, but you left.” I didn’t see what this had to do with anything.
He leaned in. “Well, don’t you want to know why?”
I frowned. “I guess.”
“I was in a relationship with my boss for six years.” He looked away from me.
“Wow,” I commented. “That’s a long time.”
“It’s a very long time to be in a dead end relationship.” He grimaced. “This isn’t something I’m proud of, Anabel. She was separated from her husband, but she and I both knew that in the end she would go back to him.”
I nodded, digesting this. “So why did you stay with her?”
He shrugged. “I loved her, I guess. I thought she and I were meant for each other, but we weren’t. In the end, it was always him for her.” He looked at me sideways. “But she’s the only person I’ve been with.”
“When did it end?” I asked.
“Two years ago.”
“Who ended it?”
“She did,” he said. “So when it was over I had to quit my job. Sam had always liked me, so he kept me around.”
“So wait, you haven’t slept with anyone in two years?” I was shocked. “Wow.”
“It hurt me a lot,” he admitted. “So I stayed away from women. I didn’t think there was anything for me beyond my relationship with Rachel.” He smiled. “I didn’t think I’d meet someone like you.”
“Why do you love me?” I asked. If he could answer that, then we might have a shot.
He considered. “Because I can’t stand the idea of living without you.”
Wow. “That was good.”
“I’ve waited two years for you, Anabel.”
“So I guess that’s proof you can hold out a little,” I mused.
“Do you believe me now? Do you think this can work?”
I considered. “You aren’t going to run away when I have the baby?”
“I promise I won’t,” he said, the picture of sincerity.
“Then I guess there’s nothing left to do but this,” I said, and kissed him.
He grinned when we broke apart. “Ready to face the world?”
“No,” I admitted. “No. Just stay with me?” I pleaded.
“Always, if you want me to,” he responded, pulling me into his arms. We lay back against the pillows, neither of us speaking, but both of us knowing we’d have to exit our haven at some point.
Later we emerged from my bedroom and walked down the stairs, my arm around his waist and his around my shoulders. “Is anybody here?” I called.
“Anabel?” I heard a girlish voice say. Carrie popped around the corner. “Oh my gosh, it is you!”
“Hi sweetie,” I greeted her. “Is anyone else here?”
“Let me get my mom,” she said, and then Charlotte came racing toward me and enveloped me in a hug.
“Anabel dear!” She proclaimed. “It’s so good to see you!”
“Thanks,” I said, hugging her back. “I’m sorry it took me so long. Thank you for all of the food you made for me.”
“It was my pleasure,” she beamed.
I turned to Matt. “I guess I should let everyone know I’m not a mute anymore, huh?”
“Are you ready for that?” He looked anxious.
I kissed him on the cheek, and grinned as Charlotte squealed. “As long as you’re with me,” I said.
He handed me my phone, and as I called Jared I heard Charlotte say in a none-too-quiet whisper, “You’re back together, aren’t you?”
“Charlotte,” said Matt, “you ask too many questions.”
I giggled, and then suddenly heard, “Anabel?”
“Hey Jared,” I tried to sound relaxed. “I’ve decided being a mime was too hard.”
He ignored my attempt at humor. “Are you okay?”
“I am, I’m much better now,” I assured him. “Can you come over?”
“I’m on my way.”
I managed to collect him, Meghan, and my brother. Meghan arrived first and practically assaulted me. “Oh Anabel!” she cried, wiping away tears.
“Meghan,” I said, astounded at her display of emotion, “what are you doing?”