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Chapter 9

Since his return to Windsong, the only time Katherine ever saw Matthew was on Friday nights, and she wanted to keep it that way.

The past few weeks of being together in Grief Group had been tense. Not all the time. Certainly not like the first time. But sometimes. And though she did her best to be friendly and kind, Katherine had the distinct impression that Matthew wanted nothing to do with her.

If she tried to join one of Peter and Matthew’s conversations or, heaven forbid, start one of her own, it felt like Matthew’s body language changed. Again, not all the time. But sometimes. As if the sound of her voice bothered him. He’d even shift uncomfortably in his seat or try not to look at her when she spoke.

On the rare moments when he smiled, smirked, or even laughed at something she’d said, he seemed to catch himself and stop. It made Katherine feel self-conscious as if Matthew couldn’t enjoy himself when she was around, and she didn’tunderstand why. The night at the diner, when they spoke, he acted like nothing bad had ever happened.

So, what was it? Why was he being so cold and distant? Why did he have to make her feel like he didn’t want her around?

Of course, she was glad he was friends with Peter, but the point of the group was to be a group. And she didn’t think it was fair to feel so left out.

Shaking her head in disappointment, Katherine made her way across the dew-covered lawn. She didn’t want to start overthinking things again and decided to try to let it go. She was being too sensitive. Matthew was going through a lot. And of all people, she should be the one to understand that.

As she pulled on the shed door, Katherine winced at the loud squeak it made, making a mental note to oil the hinges. Trying again, even slower this time, it made the same sound. Had the door always been this noisy, and she just never noticed it before?

Heading inside to grab a squeeze bottle of olive oil, Katherine stopped at the sound of another squeak, and immediately recognizing it as Matthew’s screen door. As she froze mid-step, her thoughts raced, making her wonder if he’d heard her in the backyard. And God forbid, was he coming out to talk to her.

“Snap out of it,” she said under her breath, hating every second she stood there like a scared statue. “Don’t be such a wimp.”

Taking a deep breath and straightening her spine, Katherine decided to accept whatever was about to happen. But the moment she stepped forward, she heard even more noises from the other side of the brick wall and stopped to listen.

Creaking floorboards. The scrape of chair legs over wood. And then something she couldn’t quite identify. It wasn’t a whimper or a cry. But it was definitely sad. Heavy-hearted and filled with anguish.

Since she’d never seen Matthew upset, she wondered if he wasn’t alone. Maybe family or friends had come to help out with Libby. Or worse, had come to help them pack up and move back to Kinsey.

She hadn’t heard anything around the diner about him leaving Windsong. And he hadn’t mentioned returning to Kinsey in their group on Friday. Then again, why would he tell her since he did his best to avoid direct conversation with her anyway? Still, she was sure she hadn’t seen any new vehicles or heard any other voices next door. Yet none of that meant it wasn’t possible.

And despite how guilty she first felt about her feelings for Matthew and how frustrated she was with him for the cold-shoulder treatment, she didn’t want him to leave town. Maybe, because of everything they’d been through individually and the fact that they were neighbors, there was still a chance they could be friends one day.

When more sound emanated over the wall, Katherine recognized a sob, and her heart ached for whoever it was coming from. She wanted to say something but hesitated.

Then she thought of how having her family around had helped her, and again, she felt that little tug in her heart. If it were her mother or one of her sisters, she’d want someone else to reach out and console them if they could. And since she knew all too well what to say and what not to say, saying nothing wasn’t an option. Especially when there was a chance to ease the hurt someone felt. Be it a stranger or not.

Remembering the opening at the end of the brick wall, the same one Peter had come through weeks ago, Katherine decided to slip behind the tool shed and enter Matthew’s backyard. She’d simply apologize for intruding, identify herself as a friend of Matthew’s, and offer her condolences. It was the least she could do.

But when Katherine rounded the giant rhododendron bush on the other side, she didn’t find just anyone. She found Matthew. And the pain that pierced her heart the moment she saw him sitting there was almost more than she could bear, because emotional and broken wasn’t a side of him she’d ever seen before. Yet she immediately understood how he felt.

“Matthew…”

Startled, he came to his feet so fast he nearly knocked the chair over. “How did you get in here?”

“Please forgive me for barging in like this, but I’d like to help,” she said, now close enough to see Matthew’s tired, bloodshot eyes and the raw intensity of his emotions.

“You should go, Katie. There’s nothing you can do.”

“That’s not true. I can understand. And I can listen.”

“There’s nothing to understand except that Julia’s gone, and it’s all my fault.”

“But it was an accident,” Katherine insisted, approaching the steps of the back porch. “Accidents happen. Besides, you weren’t even there. How could it be your fault?”

As Matthew’s expression faded into frustration, he dropped back into the chair. Filled with torment and self-loathing, he wouldn’t even look at her when he spoke. “You don’t understand. I could’ve stopped it. It didn’t have to end like this. I could’ve stopped her from taking so many stupid risks.”

Katherine didn’t understand everything he was saying, but the way he said it pained her deep inside, causing the tears she’d been trying so desperately to hold back spilled from her eyes. She understood what Matthew was feeling and where he was. That awful place where anger and agony collide, and you take on a burden that was never yours to bear.

“I’ve been where you are and know how you feel.”