Fin&Matt by Winters Charlie

Author:Winters, Charlie [Winters, Charlie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-05-27T16:00:00+00:00

♂♂

“I want to see Becky,” Matt said as I zipped my bag.

“Like now?”

“We’ve done everything else we came here to do. I need to see her before we leave.” He came close, squeezing my hand in his. “Will you come with me?”

“Are we going to surprise her?”

“I’ll call first, but I think she’ll come. We can meet on neutral ground. Will you do that?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess… but do you really think she’s going to want to meet me, Matt?”

He shrugged. “Let me try.”

I nodded, lifting my hands in defeat. “Call her then.”

I finished getting ready in the bathroom, giving him his space so that he could phone the woman he’d been married to. I couldn’t say exactly why I’d been a bit jealous, knowing full well he’d never revisit that path. Still, my stomach twisted at the thought of meeting the woman Matt had shared almost ten years with.

He walked in, still clutching the phone in his hand.

“She’ll meet us downstairs in the café. Thirty minutes.”

We rolled our luggage down to the main floor and dropped it with the valet before finding a seat in the crowded café.

“There. There she is,” he said, standing.

Becky was petite, maybe a few inches over five feet, with a rounded face housing a pair of oversized glasses in a matte green finish. She pushed them up onto the bridge of her nose as she searched the room. When her gaze met Matt’s, she lifted her hand into a short wave.

“Hiya,” she said softly, awkwardly opening her arms to Matt for the briefest of hugs.

Her face was scrubbed free of makeup; her dirty-blonde hair lifted into a messy bun. When she pulled back and tugged the tie on her trench coat, she exposed her globe of a belly – a tight sweater stretched across the massive sphere.

“Oh my God… Beck,” Matt gushed. “You’re… pregnant.”

She ran her hands over the material, patting the side of her stomach once. Her short ring finger housed a most-impressive rock, nearly five carats sparkling under the hotel lights.

“It’s not yours,” she joked, smiling shyly. She turned toward me for a moment before she looked back to Matt.

“I’m sorry, God… Becky, this is Fin.”

I extended my hand to her, standing a bit straighter, trying to appear as if I wasn’t actually dying inside. This woman – this normal, everyday woman – was Matt’s ex-wife.

I was suddenly uncomfortable with my expectations. I awaited a supreme beauty with over-the-top confidence. Instead, she was a woman who made cookies, read books, and likely had more than one cat.

“Hi,” I said softly. “So nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Her tone was genuine and her smile was sugary and welcoming. “I feel ashamed.”

Matt shook his head. “Why, Becks? It’s my fault.”

“No, Mattie. I was mad back then, you know?” She plopped down into an oversized armchair as Matt and I took chairs across from her. “I wanted you to love me, even though I knew you couldn’t. It was stupid and I feel ashamed. What my dad did—”

“Is water under the bridge,” he finished.

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