“It wasn’t easy finding a vegan diavola pizza, but I managed. It should be here shortly,” Matt says. I’m still not hungry, but greasy delivery pizza sounds a lot more interesting than Maria’s perfectly prepared, nutritionally balanced meals.
“I’m really proud of you, Matt. Being a vegan isn’t easy. If anyone knows the struggle, it’s me.”
I can see Matt blush in the dim light of the television. He clears his throat and keeps his attention on the screen. The BBC logo appears on the screen, and I look at Matt, confused.
“BBC?” I ask slowly. “Really?”
“Give it a chance!” Matt insists, but I can hear a thread of humor in his tone. “Let’s keep an open mind, shall we?”
“Alright, alright…” I try to keep a straight face and pay attention to the movie, but it’s harder than I thought. It’s clearly old, probably filmed around the seventies, and as the minutes pass, I can tell it’s a slice of life documentary about the British Royal Family.
The pizza arrives in time, and before I know it, I’m chewing on a slice, pulling the pizza away from my mouth as a long string of cashew mozzarella refuses to break. The strand of cheese finally snaps, and I have to slurp it up like spaghetti. Matt watches the whole time, and snorts in amusement.
About twenty minutes into the documentary, a young Queen Elizabeth is on the screen digging animatedly through her purse for pocket change to give little Prince Edward for candy. She trills in her charming accent about how the gooey candy will end up in the car, and it’s at that moment the documentary is just too much for me. I howl in laughter, kicking my feet at the absurdity of it all. “Banned documentary, indeed.”
“Oh, shut up, P.” Matt sulks, but within seconds he’s laughing alongside me, tears in his hazel eyes.
“Oh my god.” I gasp as the laughter subsides. “What a stupid movie.”
Matt wipes his eyes, looking back to the screen where Prince Edward is cramming a candy bar into his royal six-year-old mouth with gusto. Matt struggles to contain himself, catching my gaze with his mouth twitching at the corners.
“I guess I should apologize, but it really is a banned doc! I didn’t lie!” he insists, throwing his hands up. I pat him on the knee comfortingly.
“It's fine. I needed that laugh,” I reassure him.
Matt’s expression becomes more serious, and I can tell from his roaming eyes he’s taking in the weight I have lost, and the darkness under my eyes. I feel like covering myself up, but I resist the urge and let him see me for who I really am right now.
“I think you need more than just a laugh, P,” Matt says gently, brushing a strand of loose hair from my face. “Why aren’t you doing all of this with Alex right now? The pizza, the movie? It’s nine p.m. on a Friday. Where is your husband?”
The sounds of the movie fade into the background as I try to come up with an answer. In reality, I don’t have one. I don’t know where Alex is, or if he’s even worried about me. I dig up the only excuse I can think of that doesn’t make Alex look like a complete monster.
“I guess my testimony left a pretty bad impression on him,” I mutter, looking at the ground.
Matt raises his eyebrows. It isn’t the answer he was expecting. “Look, you were very polite and respectful,” Matt says. “You answered as honestly as you could, and I think you did a pretty good job. If he’s butt-hurt because of it, that’s his problem.”
“Really Matt? Butt-hurt?” I shake my head, almost amused. “Anyway, he isn’t quite as understanding…” the almost-amusement falls away. “I’m so tired of his attitude. He has said nothing for the past four days.” I slouch down, my head falling against the back of the couch. “What kind of husband is that?”
Matt is silent for a moment, but he finally musters up the courage to ask me, “Do you, um, regret marrying him?”
His question takes me by surprise, and I feel an uneasiness taking over me as I think about it.
“It’s hard to say,” I mumble, still ruminating over Alex and I, our journey, the bad and the good, and everything that has happened since he got arrested. “I love him, but I think our relationship is ill-fated,” I confess, shaking my head at how blind I was. “Everyone saw it but us.” I pause, a small smile playing on my lips as Matt keeps quiet, listening. “We, on the other hand, thought nothing but death could tear us apart.” I grin to myself, warm memories running through my mind, until I remember what happened to my mom. “And like clockwork, death came to tear us apart.”
“Do you think he will ever forgive you for cooperating with us?” Matt asks, his tone heavier than usual.
“I have no idea, if I’m being honest,” I say sincerely. “Each time I think we are getting closer to getting back on track, he goes back to calling me a traitor, an enemy, and whatever else crosses his mind.”
“That’s bullshit.” Matt runs a hand through his messy brown hair and looks at me tenderly. I’m suddenly uncomfortable, realizing how close we are sitting––our thighs are touching, but I shouldn’t worry. He has never tried anything, and he knows perfectly well I only see him as a friend. He turns his face from me, and the room suddenly darkens as credits begin to roll on the screen.
“Alright, let me drive you home,” he says, already standing up. “It’s getting late.”
I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. He’s right, but for some reason, a tiny part of me wishes I could stay. Maybe fall asleep on the big sectional, curled up with a fleece blanket, content in the knowledge that there would be no Maria forcing vitamins on me at 8 a.m.
What if Alex came home to find me gone?
So what? He has left me in the dark for days. He deserves a taste of his own medicine.
Matt is still watching me expectantly, and I’m struck by how much I don’t want to drag him into Alex and I’s drama. “Alright. Take me home, then,” I say reluctantly.
We head to the car serenaded by the chirping of crickets in the adjoining fields. Matt stops in front of a red Lexus and opens the door for me. Wait—he got a new car? Despite the question being on the tip of my tongue, I refrain myself from asking. As I climb inside though, I can tell how different this car is compared to his low-key, black Hyundai. “I didn’t know you got a new car,” I say. “It’s nice.”
“Yeah, the other one was getting old,” he answers.
The drive home is unremarkable. I know Maria will tattle on me for having Matt take me home rather than Zach, but I don’t care. I roll the window down to feel the night breeze on my face. The Goo Goo Dolls song “Iris” is playing on the radio, and Matt hums along, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Old song,” I comment. “But a good one.”
“I think everyone knows this song. It’s timeless,” he says, his brownish hair blowing in the wind.
The lyrics filter through my mind, the feeling is bittersweet.
If everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am, the singer croons, and the words strike me hard. Does anyone really know who they are?
Matt shakes me out of my thoughts with a question. “I know you’ve probably got a busy weekend ahead of you, but do you want to go to the library with me Monday? I need some help to review my knowledge on ethics.”