Matt

Somehow I end up driving eight hours north to Marianna, Florida, where my father is imprisoned. I haven’t visited him in months and I don’t know why I’m even here, but here I am. It’s the middle of the night, and visiting hours won’t start for another five hours. I check into the first motel I see and try to sleep for a few hours, but of course that isn’t going to happen. The truth is, the long drive helped cool my temper, but I’m still feeling so betrayed, I don’t know how to move past it. Since sleep isn’t happening, I walk across the street to the twenty-four-hour diner to wait out the hours with coffee.

At eight-fifteen in the morning when the doors open for visitors, I’m already waiting impatiently nearby. I sign in, go through the security and screening process, and then I’m sitting in a large room waiting for them to bring my father down.

Up and down, up and down my leg goes. I stand and move around the room, unable to keep still, until one of the security guys starts eyeing me suspiciously. So I sit my ass back down and wait and wait…

“Matty boy,” my father says as soon as he goes through the double metal doors. They clang shut behind him. I give him a quick hug. Although I can tell he wants to continue holding me, I step away and sit down.

“How are you doing, Dad?” He looks good, considering. There are more lines around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth, but like always, he has a smile.

“I’m good, Matty. You know, I could be better, but they treat me okay in here.” This is a medium-security prison, so I suppose it could be a lot worse, but still, he’s in jail.

“Good? How could you be good? I don’t understand.” It’s like all these things I never got to tell him start surfacing. “How the hell can you be smiling?”

“Is that why you came here? To argue with me?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know!” I rub my head with my palm and then squeeze the back of my neck. “I’m angry,” I admit.

“So am I,” he says calmly and I’m surprised. He doesn’t look like an angry guy. He looks like a guy who’s been inconvenienced but is handling things well. Like he’s at a subpar spa.

“Then why are you fucking smiling?” I spit out.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” He stands, and I notice his hands are fisted. “Of course I’m not good. I’m in jail. I’ll never see my sons get married. I’ll never meet my grandchildren. I’ll die in this godforsaken place. But what am I supposed to do, Mateo? I’m happy to see you. I’m happy you and your brother are well. So I smile. I want you two to visit me. I want to know what’s going on, and I don’t know what to do to get you both to forgive me.” His eyes are glassy. I’ve never, not ever, seen my father cry.

People always said that I took after my dad, and I always admired that—until he got arrested. Then it felt more like an insult than a compliment. But now I guess I can see it. He’s just like me. Putting on a brave face. Pretending that nothing bothers him. Pretending he’s okay when inside nothing is okay. Everything is fucked up and we don’t know how to deal.

“You can start by apologizing. You can start by telling me why you did it.”

“I have apol—”

“No! You’ve never apologized.”

He lets out a breath and sits back down. “I am sorry. You know I’m sorry. I never meant for you two to be caught up in my mess. I would do anything for you to know how damn sorry I am.” He clears his throat and swipes under his eyes. I can’t seem to say anything; words are stuck in my throat. “I was greedy. There’s no other way to describe it. I made a lot of money and it felt great. I never thought I’d be caught. There’s no other excuse I can give you, Matty. Nothing else but that I was wrong.” He sounds humbled, and this is the first time I’ve ever seen the sorrow in his eyes. “Why are you here, Matty?”

“I met a woman and everything’s all fucked up and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t think I can.” God, it feels good to say these words out loud. “She was an undercover cop. You met her—June.”

“The gorgeous girl with the black hair.”

“Yeah, except, her name isn’t June, it’s April, and she’s a blonde. She was the one who helped build the case against you.”

“Shit…”

“Exactly. She had us bugged. She says she helped get me and Nick off without charges, but I don’t know how I can forgive her for lying, for having us arrested. She’s the reason you’re here, for God’s sake.”

He reaches forward and puts his palms over my hands. “No, she’s not. Matt, I’m in jail because I’m guilty. That’s the simple truth. If she had anything to do with you and your brother not being here as well, then I’m grateful to her. I’d like to meet her and thank her, actually.”

“Dad—”

“No. Listen to me, son. She may have helped put me here, but I did this. Me. It was all me. Not her. Life takes strange turns, Matty. One minute you’re sitting high, thinking you’re untouchable, and the next a bus hits you or you get arrested or you find out you have an incurable illness. You never know. Something I’ve learned the hard way is to say what you feel at the moment you’re feeling it. You can’t let what I did interfere with your relationships. I take it you love her, otherwise you wouldn’t be so torn up.”

“Moreno. One minute!” the guard calls.

Of course I love her. I don’t think I want to, but I do. So fucking much it hurts.

“At the very least, accept her apology—for my sake, so I can ease my guilt a little, son. I don’t want my actions to interfere any more with your life. I couldn’t handle that my stupid decisions got in the way of your happiness.”

I wipe my face, not even caring that there are tears in my eyes. He’s right. “I’m sorry I haven’t called or visited.”

“I hope you’ll start. I miss you, Matt. I’m proud of everything you’ve done. And never doubt that I am sorry about everything.”

“Moreno! Time’s up!” the guard says.

He stands and gives me a hug. Not an awkward man hug. A full-on, arms-wrapped-around-each-other father-son hug. “Love you, son.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

Then he turns and leaves, leaving me feeling so much lighter than I’ve felt in a long time.

I walk out of the metal doors and grab my stuff from the locker at the security point. I turn on my phone and my screensaver pops up. It’s a photo of April and me in my apartment making silly faces. A stab of pain hits my chest. When times have been good, they’ve been the best. The happiest moments of my life have all involved the time I’ve spent with April…and hell, even June. She’s the same woman I asked to move in with me a year ago, the same woman who tried to make dinner but burned the food. She’s the same woman who makes me laugh, makes me mad, but ultimately makes me feel as if everything has fallen into place. As if my life is complete. Fuck it. I need to take a risk and try to make it work, or else I’m going to be miserable my entire life. We’re both hurt and angry and I need to do something to convince her that trying is better than giving up. I scroll through all the photos on my phone, not just since April came back but the ones I had of June and send them to the one-hour printing back in Miami. I swipe the phone off, tuck it into my pocket, rev up my bike, and head home.

Eight hours later I’m paying for the photos when my phone rings.

“Dean?”

“I’m going to fly to Miami and kick your ass, Moreno.”

“What? Why?”

“You’re just going to let her leave?”

“Leave? What the hell are you talking about?”

“She’s packing. Says she’s moving to L.A. She’s welcome, of course, but this isn’t a good idea.”

“Of course not. She’s running away again. Fuck that. I’ll call you later.”

“Wait! I’m not done telling you all the ways I’m going to kill you.”

“Stall. Don’t let her leave. I’ll be at her apartment in an hour.”

“An hour?!” I don’t wait for him to continue as I get on my bike and haul my ass home and get everything ready.

It’s late when I get to her apartment. My legs hurt from being on my bike for that many hours, but I ignore it because I know what I want. I know how I feel. The fresh air and the talk with my dad have clarified a lot for me. And I’m ready to move on. It may not be easy, but it’s worth it. She’s worth it.

“Matt?” she says as she opens the door. “What are you doing here?”

I step inside, toss my helmet down, and close the door behind me. “You’re running away.”

“I’m not. I’m fixing things. I’m finally doing the right thing.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m saving you from more heartache.”

“Bullshit.” I stalk to her, backing her into a corner. “Don’t make any more fucking decisions about our life without me.”

“Our life?”

“Yeah, our life. You and me.” I take her hand and pull her out the door.

“What are you doing?”

“Just trust me,” I say. I lead her to my bike and help her get on it.

“Matt?” I can hear her voice full of anguish but I ignore it as I head home.

Ten minutes later we’re walking into my apartment building. “Matt? What are you doing? I’m leaving tomorrow. There’s too much hurt feelings….”

I pull out my keys. “No. I don’t want you to go.”

“How many times have you looked at me as if you hate me?”

“God, April. I don’t hate you. I hate that I want you so bad and I hate that I still love you. But mostly I hate that I love you even more now than I did before.”

“You do?” she asks, and I finally open the door and lead her inside.

“Fuck yeah, I do. I feel like I should be mad, but I can’t be. Not anymore. Not now that I’ve gotten to know you. The real you. You’re not leaving, sweetheart. I told you I’d come chasing if you ran, remember? So don’t fucking run away anymore. I’ll just bring you right back. Yes, I was hurt, and yes, things haven’t been easy. But you and me—that’s not something I want to give up.”

“How can you just forgive me so easily?”

“Easily? No, sweetheart, not easily. It’s hard sometimes. But I need you in my life and I don’t want to keep hurting you or myself. So I’m going to move on, and I want you to move on as well. Let’s start fresh. For real this time.” I look around and direct her attention to the walls that are covered in photos.

She moves toward the nearest wall. “Oh my God, what is this?”

“It’s you. Or rather, it’s us.” I pull the tape off one particularly happy moment I spent with June at the beach and there is no way that woman, with the different hair and different name, didn’t love me just as much as I loved her. “Remember this?”

She sniffles. “I was trying to get you to go for a swim but you kept complaining about sharks,” she says with a watery laugh. Then she touches another photo, a recent one. “This was when I was being difficult about going out of the house with my bruised face.”

“I made you look at yourself. You’re beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful.”

She glances around in amazement at all the photos I’ve taped to the walls. “God, there’s so many.”

“Because we’ve had a lot of memories together. And I don’t want you to ever forget them again. And I don’t want to pretend the things that happened with June, didn’t happen. Those times, they were good times and I don’t want to pretend they didn’t happen.”

She looks at me somberly. “Before we move on, I want to tell you everything.”

I’m ready to hear it all now. I lead her to the couch and we sit.

“My assignment was to get intel on your dad, not on you. We’d heard he had a thing for younger women with black hair. But then you hit on me, and Dean thought it would be easier to try to get the evidence we needed through you. Yes, I pretended to not know anything about you, and I asked questions to get you to talk….” Her eyes watered.

Really, I don’t want to hear any more. It’s all in the past, and rehashing it isn’t going to do us any good. “Let’s not do this, April.”

She shakes her head and wipes her eyes. “No. I have to get it all out. You can’t decide if we’re going to be together, if you can really move past it, unless you know it all. And I don’t want to start over with you if there are still any secrets.” When I say nothing, she continues. “The day I jogged to Panic in the middle of the day, that’s because Dean knew your dad was there and he wanted me to plant a bug in his office. That’s why I showed up with no warning, and that was the first time I met your father in person.” She clears her throat and continues. “By the third week of getting to know you, I was sure you were innocent, and not because of the conversations we overheard but because you, Matt, are sweet and forthcoming—at least to me you were. You were just trying to do your job, and you didn’t know about your dad’s side dealing. I didn’t sleep with you—hell, I didn’t kiss you—until I was certain you were no longer my mark. But I still knew, without a doubt, your dad was guilty.”

That hurt, but I understood. He was guilty, and there was no way to sugarcoat that.

“So my task became getting as much evidence as I could to prove your innocence. And I did. But then my captain started suspecting that maybe I had developed feelings for you, so I had to take the other job so that your innocence wouldn’t be questioned. June may have been fake, but not all of June’s feelings were fake. When we were together, that was me. Those were my true feelings, Matt. I really did love you. I still do.”

I pull her back to me and cup her face. “I understand. It’s not easy to hear, but I understand. Is there anything else? Because I don’t want this to keep weighing on us. I want this to be the last of it.”

“That’s it. That’s everything.”

“Good. Can I kiss you now? Because fuck…I want to kiss you now that you remember everything. I want to kiss you, April—all of you—and I want you to never forget anything about our time together from here on out. And I want you to move in with me.”

“You asked me that once before….”

“Glad you remember.”

“And I wanted to say yes, then.”

“And how about now?” I ask.

She shakes her head, and I swallow to get the lump out of my throat.

“Of course! Good thing I’m already all packed up.”

The feelings I have for her are overwhelming. I thought I’d lost her. I thought I’d fucked it all up. But here she is, leaning into my touch and accepting my shortcomings, just like I have to accept the job she had to do.

She smiles slyly. “Are you trying to make me stay?”

“Sweetheart, you’re damn right I am.”