Right at that moment, the door opened and Matt came in. He was laughing and barely even looked my way as he reached for a freshly laundered stack of towels for behind the bar. My head dropped, and I let out a sigh.
“Is it Matt?” Hannah asked. “Are you two having issues?”
I figured that was the closest thing to telling her the truth I would get to and nodded.
“Yes. But I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to hear that we rushed things right now.”
Hannah shook her head, reaching out to run her hands down my arms comfortingly.
“I wasn’t going to say anything like that. Marriage can be really hard. It isn’t just romance and sunny days and cuddles. It’s so much more than that. It takes hard work to keep marriages going. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been married five minutes or five decades, you still have to put work into it. And there’s going to be issues from time to time. No matter what. And no matter who you’re talking about. You shouldn’t beat yourself up over it,” she said.
“It’s really hard not to,” I said, knowing I meant it but for a reason she didn’t understand.
“I know. But listen to me. You’re going to get through this. You and Matt are going to figure out whatever it is you’re going through and make it out the other side stronger and happier than ever. I know it because the two of you are so great together,” she said. “And don’t worry about tonight. We can handle it. You go home, take some time for yourself, and know everything is going to work out just fine.”
“Thank you.”
She gathered me into a tight hug. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said, squeezing her back.
Her talk should have made me feel better, and if it was normal circumstances we were dealing with, it probably would have. But these weren’t normal circumstances, and Matt and I couldn’t just work it out. I went home feeling even more upset than I was before talking to her.
If only the two of us being great together really was true.
If only I could believe everything was going to work out between us.
29
Matt
Both of us had the day off together, and I’d decided I was going to get to the bottom of what was going on with Chloe. Neither of us had made any plans, and since she still didn’t know too many people aside from those who worked at the bar with us, I was pretty sure she was planning on hanging out at home all day. Since that meant she would have to come out from her room for bathroom breaks and to eat, I figured I’d get a couple of chances to break the icy tension between us every time we were home.
I woke up early, with a lot of optimism. If I could get her to tell me what was really going on with her, we might be able to move forward. Whatever forward meant. Still, a long conversation would probably best be done with some food in the stomach, so I proceeded to make a big breakfast. That way I could feed her and ease into any talk about what was going on with a full stomach and some coffee in her system.
No sooner had I brewed the coffee than her door opened. She poked her head out and looked around, seeing me in the kitchen cooking, and I nodded to her.
“Coffee, if you want some,” I said. “Making us breakfast, too.”
She nodded somewhat timidly and made her way to the kitchen, not saying anything. She was wearing a bathrobe over her pajamas, and I had to stop myself from thinking how cute she was in the big fluffy robe. Now was not the time for that.
“Thanks,” she muttered.
“You’re welcome,” I said, somewhat cheerfully, trying to bring her mood up by sheer force. “Blueberry pancakes. Ready to plate if you’ll take a seat.”
She nodded again, holding her mug close to her lips and blowing on it to cool it down before taking a sip. Then she sat at the table, and I brought her a plate and a serving dish with a stack of blueberry pancakes, bacon, and eggs. I made her plate for her and then sat down with my own plate, stacking the pancakes high.
We ate in mostly silence as I didn’t want to push the issue, but after a few minutes, I saw that she was more awake, and I felt like my time was at hand.
“So, do you want to tell me what’s been going on?” I asked, stabbing some eggs with my fork.
“Not particularly,” she said.
“Please. I can’t stand all this tension between us. I want you to be happy.”
“Do you?” she asked, cutting her eyes at me.