Matt sighed. “Are we back here already? Sometimes I think you forget that the fantasy worlds you create aren’t real life.”
He wanted to know what had happened to Matt to make him believe he couldn’t pursue his dream. What had happened to the determined man who’d left here ten years before…or was Matt right and was Oliver living with his head in the clouds? Matt had accomplished great things. Not many people could go on to do the things he had. Dreams changed. Maybe music really wasn’t Matt’s dream anymore.
And Oliver needed to stop trying to help Matt when he didn’t need it. Stop trying to give him things that Oliver wanted him to want because then he still felt like the boy Oliver used to know. “Jesus, I suck. Maybe you’d like me to cut your sandwich into four squares at dinner too?”
Matt chuckled and then reached out and grabbed Oliver’s hand. He let him, feeling the warmth in his smaller fingers and palm.
“It’s just because you care. I get that and…I missed you, Ollie. You’ve always been the best friend I’ve ever had.”
Matt was the best friend he’d ever had too.
*
They finished the exhibit of contemplative and emotive photography before making their way to the next floor.
Oliver spent most of his time taking in the pieces, all the art that he loved so much—and Matt spent his time watching Oliver. He wondered what kind of clarity Oliver received when he was here. If he was getting the answers he sought as he sat on a bench or eyed a piece of artwork.
They’d been here a few hours before Matt noticed the time. Since it was Sunday, the museum closed at five thirty, which wasn’t too far away. “You know we have to make it out there, right?” Matt couldn’t come to The Getty with Oliver and not go out to the gardens. They’d never skipped them before and he didn’t plan on doing it now.
“We do. I was waiting for you to mention it,” Oliver replied before they began to head that way. There were numerous gardens there, but it was the Central Garden that Matt and Oliver had always spent the most time at—with its tree-lined paths, ravine, and scents of nature.
It was quiet once they immersed themselves in the trees and began making their way through the garden. Oliver had his hands shoved into his pockets—Matt’s arms were crossed. He dropped them to his sides, realizing how stiffly he stood. It was only a few short moments later that the words snuck out unplanned. “He’s getting worse.”
Oliver sighed, obviously knowing who Matt was talking about. “I know…but he’s okay. He’s strong. Maybe the surgery will help if he goes through with it.”
Matt’s heart banged against his ribcage. “What? Surgery?” He didn’t know anything about a surgery.
He could see the regret in the wrinkles around Oliver’s eyes when he looked at him. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t know they hadn’t told you. I only heard it from my mom. Apparently, he’s not sure if he wants to go through another surgery on his back, even though this one would be different.”
But they hadn’t told him. Why the fuck hadn’t they told Matt?
“It’s likely because they didn’t want you to worry until they decided if they were going to go through with it or not.”
Logically, Matt knew that made sense…but they’d spoken to Oliver’s family about it. But then…other than today, when was the last time Matt had a conversation with his mom that lasted longer than ten or fifteen minutes? When was the last time he’d dug deep during those conversations? When had he really asked how things were going with his dad?
No, he couldn’t only blame them. Matt was upset, that didn’t change, but it wasn’t only their fault.…I started trying to pretend my life here didn’t exist. The truth knocked the air out of him, and he stopped moving, dropped his head back and looked at the sky. “Everything feels so fucked up, Ollie, and I can’t say why.”
He sighed, walked over to the beige bridge which led over the ravine and leaned against it. “I felt so awkward at my own house today—with my own family.” Yes, he always had in some ways, but the divide between them seemed to continue to grow. “And the second Mom mentioned my career, Dad got flustered and left the room. He looks at me and it’s as though I’m from another universe. He doesn’t want to see me that way. I know it, but somehow that makes it worse.” If his father was just an asshole—a bigoted prick or something like that—it would make things different, but the fact that his dad wanted to try and understand Matt but couldn’t, made him feel like an intruder in his own family.