Chapter Two

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"Two coffees. Milk on the side, please," Matteo orders at the window of the 24-hour diner. I'm immediately reminded of the place he always used to go, the place we went to on our first date. I pull in my coat, sniffling. The snow has stopped, thankfully. While Matteo pays, I take the time to appreciate his presence, the different air that surrounds me now that he's within reach.

Taking the steaming Styrofoam cups, he hands one to me and grabs the cup of creamer provided. We walk to the cart against the building that carries the sugar and stirrers.

"Do you remember how many sugars I take?" I ask obnoxiously while I reach. He smirks.

"Three. I don't think I could forget that if I tried." While I stir the milk and sugar in, I watch him take a sip of his own.

"I don't recall you drinking black," I say.

He clears his throat, turning as I do toward a bench. "I began drinking it this way when I was trying to quit. It helped."

Taking a seat, I raise the drink to my lips. The elephant in the metaphorical room, the questions that I am duty bound to ask are pressing down on me now. "And... did you succeed?"

"I wouldn't be here if I hadn't."

He looks ahead at a homeless man pushing a shopping cart with a mountain of belongings, all things scavenged over time. "It wasn't easy. It was an overnight fix. I fucked up quite a few times at the start."

"Did you go through what you went through here?"

"I did."

"Alone," I reflect, brooding at the memories of his shocking downfall, this untouchable talent brought to his knees, sick and heartbroken. The thought is not a comforting one. He places his hand over mine.

"I have a confession to make."

"Wow, offering up secrets right away?" I smirk. "You are a changed man."

"Well, I hope this one doesn't upset you," he replies, raising a brow. Nervously, I devote my attention to him, waiting.

"I spoke to your sister every other month or so," he confesses. "She's actually the one who told me where you'd be tonight."

My eyes widen with realization. "Wait, the entire eight months? And she didn't tell me?"

"I asked her not to," he says, chuckling uncomfortably. "She initially said no because, well, she hates me. But after a few months, she would send me a picture, a quick recap every so often."

I shake my head in shock. "Matteo."

He shrugs, swallowing. "I couldn't completely let you go, you see. I just... couldn't."

All this time... we've both been stuck in the past.

"We made the right choice though, right? Taking time apart?" I ask.

"I think so. I mean, I still struggle with things, things that I can't just forget in eight months, things that don't think will ever really go away, but I feel like I finally found a good place. I was going to come sooner... I just didn't know where your life was. Your sister, while helpful, found joy in keeping me on the edge."

"How?"

"Well, she hinted that you had gotten very close to a man... his name is Hugh? She said you are pretty crazy about him."

I have to laugh. "Hugh is my assistant... and I'm not his type."

I don't have to spell it out. Matteo takes a noticeable pause, relief sweeping through his features. "She hates me more than I expected."

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