I run my fingers over Matteo's chest slowly, lost in thought. We've been lying on the floor, limbs tangled together. His fingers are traveling in small circles over my back.
"I hate that you felt like you couldn't talk to me about this," I admit. "About work too."
After a moment, he breathes in. "Em."
I lay my palm flat on his chest. "It's hard for me to think about anything but him right now... and I know that's unfair to you. I know I'm always dazing off and—"
"I am not holding anything against you. I didn't tell you that story to try and make you feel bad." He looks down at me. "We've had a shit month and you're allowed to express your pain however you want, whenever you want. There's no time limit for grief."
"So why am I the only one who is allowed to go through it?"
He stares at me. "Em, I told you... I don't grieve the way you do."
"You're used to finding a way to forget," I say, nodding. "I get that but if you just... talked to me, told me what you're feeling, I would listen, Matteo. And it could help you stay away from alcohol."
"I wish it were that easy, Em," he replies, looking up at the ceiling. I place my cheek against his burning chest, closing my eyes.
"I wish we could just run away. Take Charles and run away from everything."
"Me too."
Matteo's phone suddenly rings and a shiver moves through me. I shiver every time a phone rings. Even though Charles is with us right now, it makes me cringe to think of what Eddie is doing with his night of freedom.
Matteo reaches above his head for his pants. He digs into the pocket and answers his cell just before it goes to voicemail.
"Hello?" He clears his throat. "No, it's fine. I'm awake. What do you need, Doug?"
I relax, surprisingly glad it's not Harold. Matteo remains quiet for a while before groaning. I look at him. "I can't do tomorrow, Doug. I'm going to an event at Emma's work... an anniversary. Doug, I haven't gone to a single one. Just tell them I can't."
"Can't what?" I ask.
"Dinner with the executives," he whispers, turning his attention back towards the phone. "Yes, she's with me. No, I'm not putting you on speakerphone."
I hold out my hand and Matteo reluctantly hands it to me, rolling his eyes.
"Hi, Doug," I say pleasantly.
"Em, can you please just tell him he can go to this? Like these guys control his career and you know, they're already pretty pissed off with him. I know being there for you takes precedence but..."
"I get it." I look at Matteo. "You should actually go to this. This dinner is important. You can go to another party with me some other time."
"Emma."
"I'm serious. If you want to repair things with them, you should go."
He sighs with defeat and I bring the phone back to my ear. "Text him when and where."
"You are a goddess, Emma. Thank you. I will." The relief in his voice is evident.
"Sure thing. Night, Doug." I hang up and place his cell phone into his stomach.
"Sorry," he says after a moment.
I shake my head, wrapping my hand around his waist. "It's okay. Those guys are important too."
"I've just recently noticed they're gigantic assholes, though."
"Sounds like it. Tell me about your shows. What's going on?"
Matteo turns onto his side, propping his hand against his head, his elbow against the carpet. I do the same so we're facing each other. "Remember when I told you that after you left I couldn't perform anymore?"
"You said you couldn't hear the music."
He nods. "Well, that's not even the problem anymore. I just don't enjoy it, at all. I used to throw myself into this place, a place of comfort when I'd be on stage." He shakes his head, looking down. "I don't know. Maybe it's just that I've found another way to find comfort now."
"With me?"
He nods, smiling gently, spreading his hand over my hip, pulling me to him. I hum, warmly, nuzzling to his body. "Well what do you want to do?"
"Now?"
I shake my head, chuckling. "No. About theatre."
"I'm not sure. I mean, I've saved for years. There's no shortage of funds, thankfully, but Eddie may bankrupt us."
"What would you do if he tried to pawn more money off of you?"
He runs a hand over my hair, resting his forehead against mine. "I'd give it to him if he threatened to keep Charles from us."
"He probably will."
"Yeah, I know," he admits after a moment, closing his eyes.
***
I wake to the sound of Charles' laughter. It is a welcome disturbance, leaving me immediately in a good mood.
"Shh, don't wake Emma."
I smile sleepily and turn over, finding Charles between Matteo's legs. He's reading him something off of his phone. Charles is in his clothes from yesterday still and Matteo's donning sweats and messy sex-crazed hair. He glances over at me, looking rested. When he smiles, his eyes are clear. It's the first time I've seen them like that since we lost Charles.
Charles exclaims, giggling as I kiss his cheek.
"The bad breath monster!" I gasp, tickling him.
"Ah! Tickles!"
***
"Mummy, why we here?" Charles says, arms wrapped tightly around my neck. We're parked outside of Eddie's home. I look at Matteo, reluctantly. After this lovely morning eating breakfast and watching cartoons, he begins to prepare himself, shutting off the car.
I gulp, glancing back at the apartment. God, I don't want to do this. I close my eyes, stroking his soft yellow locks, trying to think of what I can tell him this time.
***
I'm putting my hair up in a daze in front of the bathroom mirror when I feel Matteo's lips gentle on my shoulder. I re-enter reality after the horror we experienced leaving Charles at Eddie's just a few hours earlier. I've never heard Charles scream like that... ever.
And I can still hear them. It's hard to focus on anything but them. Matteo's lips drift upward, to my throat.
"I have to go," he whispers against my skin, sounding reluctant. When he looks at me, I nod to him. He's dressed in a classic black and white suit... my favorite on him. I smile softly when his fingers entwine with mine beside my robe.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
"I'm fine. Just a little shaken up. I'll be fine."
He nods, exhaling. "Have a good time tonight with Hugh. Tell him I say hi."
"I will," I hum as he presses his lips to my cheek. I expect him to move, but he doesn't. Instead his head tilts down, resting against my cheek.
"I... I need you to kiss me, Emma."
It's not an everyday normal thing for Matteo to tell me what he needs, so when I hear his gentle confession, I turn towards him, clasping his neck. Lifting up onto my tiptoes, I kiss him. I kiss him deeply, pouring myself into the gesture, into fluidness and ease.
My lips are unrushed and sink into his, my body molding into his, searching for the same comfort he is seeking. He gasps against my cheek when I pull away from his mouth to loss his cheek and his temple, dousing him in love.
Our soft kisses become an embrace.
He buries his head in my shoulder, his arms strong around me. My hands cradle the back of his head, my fingers sinking into his hair.
The tenderness works. I have the strength to endure a night without him.
***
I shake my head at the server carrying a tray of champagne, although at the moment, it would probably do me wonders for my nerves. I cross my legs in my cream-colored gown, a hand wrapped around a cup of coffee. The anniversary party is loud, large, and surprisingly wild. Richard is already extremely drunk and we've only been celebrating for two hours. His ex-wife is present, so I'm not really too surprised he got intoxicated. She's a piece of work.
I stare out at the people dancing, my co-workers who have no care in the world on the dance floor. They can't help but laugh and drink, become obliterated on a night off. My eyes drift over all of them with envy because as much as I'd like to be that person tonight, I can't. It's in moments like this that I wish I hadn't told Matteo to go to his dinner.
"You look far too sad over here," Vicki states, sitting down beside me. She's an older woman who has been with the magazine since day one, precisely ten years ago. She works in the mailroom. She's in a blue sundress that's way too small for her and sporting a high ponytail.
"I'm just taking in the atmosphere," I reply over the music, smiling warmly. She leans back, wiping her forehead, exerted from the dancing. We sit in silence for a long while before she clears her throat.
"Um, I heard about the little boy you adopted... I was very sorry to hear about what happened. He was your husband's nephew?"
"Cousin."
I feel arms come around my shoulders and then lips planting on my cheek. I can tell it's Hugh by his ridiculously expensive cuff links. "Come dance with me."
I'm saved by the bell. Well, actually Richard's laugh in the microphone. We all look to the stage.
"Good evening, good evening everybody." He chuckles to himself. "I'd like to say something and I promise I'll be quick so ya'll can get back to your party."
"Did he just say ya'll?" Hugh asks, pulling back from me. I laugh as he clasps my hand, taking a seat on the other side of me.
"Today is a very special day to me. Well, to everyone here, but especially to me because my entire life I've aspired to have a business I could be this proud of, employees who go above and beyond to secure success for us. Ten years is a long time, right?"
He pulls at his bowtie with his free hand that doesn't have liquor in it. "You see, this company started with only nine employees. Nine! Now, we have multiple branches. Over nine-hundred employees..."
Hugh looks over my shoulder and his brows fly up on his head in surprise. "You didn't tell me Matteo was going to come?"
Come... here?
"What?" I turn in my seat to find Hugh's observation isn't a mirage. My husband is making his way through the crowd. I smile in shock, undeniably glad to see him. He moves around a woman who sizes him in awe.
His dark eyes meet mine, exuding only fear and my smile begins to fade.
Oh no.