Maybe Matt's Miracle

Emily recovers first and looks around the room. “She was dancing with the groom a minute ago.”

What the f**k was that about? Logan signs vehemently. He doesn’t talk.

That was closure, I sign back. Are you ready to go? Meet me outside. I’m going to find Sky.

I walk around the ballroom, looking for the blue dress that matched her eyes. I smell for her scent. I listen for the sound of her voice. But she’s gone. She’s not there.

I finally end up outside, and a valet approaches me. “Cab, sir?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I’m looking for a woman,” I say. I hold my hand up, indicating how small she is. “A little blonde, dressed in blue.”

“Oh, yes, sir,” he says with a nod. “I put her in a cab a few minutes ago.”

“A cab?” I parrot.

“Yes, sir. She was going to the city.”

“Why would Sky be going to the city?” I ask myself. “Her apartment is downtown.” But he must have heard me.

“She was a little upset, sir,” he says.

“Why was she upset?” I clutch his shoulder.

He shrugs. “That I’m not sure about, sir,” he says.

Logan motions to me. He gets into the limo with Emily, and I lean inside. “I can’t leave yet. I don’t know where Sky is,” I tell him.

“Get in the car,” Emily says. “We need to get out of here.”

I get in and the car pulls out. “The valet said she was going uptown.”

“What did you do to her?” Logan asks.

Emily punches me in the shoulder. “Seriously, couldn’t you wait to get home to have sex with her? You had to do it at April’s wedding?”

“You had sex at April’s wedding?” Logan asks. He chokes a little, so I kick him in the knee.

“Shut up,” I grumble.

“You didn’t tell her who April was, did you?” Emily asks, her voice soft.

“I told her all about April,” I protest. “I told her all about the girl who broke my heart right after we met.”

“But did you tell her this was her wedding?” Emily snaps at me. “Did you ever say her name?”

I can’t answer because I don’t know. She punches me again. “Stop hitting me,” I mumble. I rub my arm because that shit hurts. “I don’t know if I ever said her name.” I throw up my hands. What the f**k else am I going to do?

“She must have figured it out,” Emily says. “And then she quizzed me when you were gone.” Her eyes close and she grimaces. “I thought you told her everything.”

“I did, just not the important part, apparently.”

“It’s all a big misunderstanding,” Logan says. “You’ll go to her and explain.”

“I accidentally told her about the letter,” Emily says quietly.

“What letter?” I ask. I take my phone out and text Sky.

Me: Where are you?

I stare at the phone like it holds the secrets of the universe.

“The letter you wrote to April when you were dying. The one you made me promise to give to her after you kicked the bucket.”

I raise my brow. “Kicked the bucket?”

“Bite the big one? Meet the Holy Ghost? Pushing up daisies?” She punches my arm again. “Why does it matter?”

“Why did you tell her about the letter?” I ask. I’m not angry. I’m just confused.

“She was talking about April. And I wanted her to know how very much I hate her, so I told her about the letter.” She groans. “It seemed relevant!” she yells.

“What do you think was in that letter?” I ask.

“You professing your undying love as you lay on your death bed…” she says.

I snort. “Okay,” I say. “Have your driver take me to the apartment. I need to get something.”

“Then what?” she asks.

“Then I’m going to get Sky.”

She grins and pats my arm. “Good.”

I just hope she’ll see me.

My phone bleeps.

Sky: I went home. Leave me alone.

Me: You don’t get to run off and hide. Not right now.

Sky: Yes, I do.

Me: I’m coming to see you.

Sky: I won’t let you in.

Me: I’m very persistent.

Sky: I’m very hurt.

Me: Let me fix it.

Sky: You can’t.

Me: I will.

I will, if it’s the last thing I ever do.

Skylar

My apartment smells stale and unused. I open a window and look around. It’s too clean and too empty. There are no dolls lying around. There are no board games littering my kitchen table. There are no kids anywhere. I should be at home with my kids. But if I go there, I’ll have to face Matt.

I take a shower and put on my old, unattractive, single-girl flannel pajamas. I don’t put on any makeup because my eyes are all swollen and I look like shit anyway. It’s not like I’m going to see anyone. Matt doesn’t know where my apartment is.

In my freezer, there’s a half a gallon of Chunky Monkey and it’s still good. I take it out and don’t even get a bowl. I just grab a big soupspoon and take it to the couch. I flip the TV until I find something mindless, something that will not require any thinking at all.

I’ve eaten about half the carton when a knock sounds on my door. I startle. I don’t go to the door. No one I know would come here.

My phone bleeps.

Matt: Answer your door.

Me: No. Go away.

My heart starts to trip. He’s here. Shit. I uncurl my feet from under me and perch my bottom on the edge of the couch. He’ll go away if I wait long enough.

He knocks again, and I jerk, dropping my spoon to the floor. I get up and toss it in the sink as I walk past. It clatters loudly. I walk over to the door, press my ear against it, and listen. I don’t hear anything.

Matt: I’m not leaving.

Me: How did you find me?

Matt: Your father felt sorry for me.

Me: Traitor.

I hear a chuckle through the door.

Matt: He loves you.

Me: What did you tell him?

Matt: I told him that I’m an idiot.

I wait.

Matt: He agreed.

A grin tugs at my lips.

Matt: You’re laughing, right?

I don’t respond.

Matt: Please tell me you’re not crying.

Me: Not anymore. You should go home, Matt.

Matt: You first.

I hear Matt speak softly through the crack in the door. “You should go home, Sky.”

I sink down onto my bottom and lay the back of my head against the door. “I can’t go home,” I say.

“Why not?” he asks, his voice soft, and I think he is sitting down now, too, just on the other side of me.

“Because you’ll go there.”

He chuckles. “I’m here.”

I sigh heavily. “Go home, Matt. My feelings are hurt, and I don’t want to see you right now.”

“It wasn’t what you thought it was. I thought you knew who she was, and you obviously didn’t. I never meant to hurt you.”

“You still love her, Matt,” I say.

“No,” he protests. “I don’t. And I made that very clear when you forced me to dance with her tonight.”

“You wrote her a f**king letter when you were dying,” I say.

“Ugh!” he cries. “That letter will haunt me until the day I die.”

“Only because it tells how you really feel.”

He chuckles. “It does tell how I really felt when I wrote it.”

I bang the back of my head against the door. I want to stop talking about it.

“I want you to read it,” he says.

“I don’t want to read it.”

“Yes, you do.”

I hear a rustle, and an envelope slides under my door. It has the word April written across the front. I push it back to him. He laughs and shoves it through again.

“I need to tell you something,” he says.

“What?” I ask. I don’t touch the letter. I just let it lie there on my carpet.

“Seth and Mellie and Joey, they depend on you. They don’t deserve for you to leave them.”

That hits me like he just kicked me in the chest. “I didn’t leave them.”

“You’re here so you can avoid me, and they’re there.”

I don’t say anything because he’s right. I did leave them.

“I’ll go away if you’ll go home,” he says. “I won’t like it, but I love you, and I love them enough to give up for tonight so you can go back to them. They need you. And you need them.”

Tears burn my eyes, and I blink them back. “Matt,” I say.

“Will you read the letter?” he asks.

“Maybe,” I grouse.

He chuckles, and I hear a sniffle from his side. “Will you call me when you’re ready?”

“Maybe,” I say again.

“Go home to the kids, Sky. I promise to give you some space. Read the letter, though. It might help.”

With everything that’s going on, he’s still thinking about my kids. My belly flips. He’s just on the other side of the door. I could open it up and jump into his arms, if I wanted to. But I don’t. I just sit there. I sit there until my butt gets tired. I sit there until my foot falls asleep. I sit there until the letter taunts me to pick it up. I sit there long after Matt is gone.

I take the letter in my hand and hold it out so I can see the name on it. It’s not for me. It’s for April. It’s for the love of is life.

I tear into it and unfold it. It’s short, not even a half a page.

I start to read.

Dearest April,

When I met you, I immediately felt like the sun rose and set in your eyes. I went to bed thinking about you at night, and I woke up with you on my mind in the morning. We had some really good times, didn’t we? I relished the long walks we took. I looked forward to seeing you at night and sleeping with you in my arms.

Then I got the diagnosis. I found out that I was sick, and when I needed you to be there for me, you f**ked my best friend. You weren’t there to hold my hand through chemo. You weren’t there to help me get to and from doctor’s appointments. You weren’t there when I was so sick I couldn’t hold my head up. You were with him. You were under him and on top of him and with him instead of me.

I asked my brothers to give you this letter in the event of my death, so if you’re reading this, I’m gone. I’ve lived out my days, and even though you’ve moved on, I need to tell you how I feel.

A good man might want to ease your conscience.

A good man might want to give you some peace.

But good wasn’t important to you.

I f**king hate you. I hate that you’re breathing. I hate that you’re alive. I hate that you’re able to laugh and that you’re going to go on and procreate and make more sorry-ass human beings just like yourself.

I hope that your heart leaped when you got this letter. Final words of love from me. Hahahahahaha! I am dead, so I can say whatever I want.

And what I want to say is:

I f**king hate you. I hope you get exactly what you deserve in life.

With the utmost hatred and disdain,

Matthew Reed

PS – I still hate you.

I lay my hand over my mouth to stifle the noise that wants to come out. I’m not sure what it is. It might be a laugh. It might be a gasp. But whatever it is, it takes my breath away. I get up and go get my coat. I don’t even get dressed. I put on my jacket and pad downstairs in my bedroom slippers. It has started to rain heavily, so I call a cab and get in it and go home. I go back to my kids because that’s where I belong. And there’s no doubt in my mind that I want to go to Matt. But I can wait until tomorrow. He was willing to give up and go home so I could do what was in the best interest of my kids. He will be willing to wait until morning. I need to talk with my dad anyway. And I need to go watch Joey and Mellie sleep. And Maybe even Seth, too.

Matt

I let myself into the apartment. I should have known that they would all still be up. There wasn’t a chance in hell I would come home and not be bombarded with questions. One: there was the wedding. Two: there was April. Three: April and Sky were in the same room. Four: I kind of did Sky in the supply closet against the wall.

Shit. Paul is going to skewer me.

My brothers are draped across the furniture like building blocks. Pete’s feet are on the back of the couch, and Sam’s head is just below them. Paul is in the lazy chair, and Logan is stretched out on the other sofa by himself. He sits up first and turns off the TV. I look toward the hallway. Where are Reagan and Emily?

“We sent them baby shopping.” Paul says, swiping a hand down his face.

Baby shopping? Oh yeah. I keep forgetting that Emily is pregnant. Logan is such a lucky bastard. I know it sounds resentful to call him that, when he has to deal with being deaf every day, but still. I survived f**king cancer. I should get a perk. Like fatherhood.

“Thank you,” I breathe. I’m so glad they’re not here. They’re as nosy as my brothers, but not nearly as subtle.

“You had a big night, I hear,” Paul says.

“We had a little misunderstanding. That’s all.” I go get a beer and then sit down beside Logan.

“Where is Sky now?”

“I hope she’s at the apartment with the kids.”

“Logan told us what happened,” Paul says. “Tough luck.”

I throw my beer bottle cap at Logan. “You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you?” I’m joking. Sort of. I throw my hands up. “It’s not like you guys haven’t had sex in some strange places.”