Page 13 of What Broke First (The Cheating A$$hole #1)
Matt found out about Carter the same way most men find out about the person replacing them: too late, and from someone who didn’t mean any harm.
It was Tommy, oblivious and honest as ever, who let it slip.
“Mom went to a restaurant with a man named Carter,”
he said between bites of cereal.
“He wore a jacket even though it wasn’t cold. And he said the word ‘hella,’ which is funny.”
Matt froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. “Carter?”
Tommy nodded, chewing.
“Yeah. He said he was gonna beat me at checkers, but I crushed him. Mom laughed a lot.”
Matt forced a laugh too. He poured more coffee, hoping it would drown the sudden, irrational burn in his chest. It didn’t.
He had no right to be jealous. He knew that. He’d lost his rights the second he betrayed her. Still, the thought of Sarah smiling across the table at some guy who said “hella”
like it was charming made Matt want to put his fist through the nearest drywall.
He was on his third cup of coffee, hunched over a half-built Lego castle with Tommy, when she finally texted.
Sarah: Hey, I’ll be by around five to pick them up.
He stared at the message for a full minute before answering.
Matt: Cool. Take your time. They’re having a blast.
That was the truth. Emily was curled up on the couch watching Frozen 2 for the hundredth time, and Tommy had already declared he wanted to live in this Lego castle forever. Matt had even caught himself hummin.
“Into the Unknown”
under his breath, like some washed-up dad in a Disney montage.
Five came too fast.
Sarah pulled up in her sensible SUV, hair down, lips red, and wearing jeans that made Matt question every life choice he’d made since sophomore year.
The kids squealed and launched into their end-of-visit rituals. Emily shoved coloring pages into her backpack like they were national treasures, and Tommy dramatically collapsed because h.
“just needed five more minutes, pleeeease.”
Matt walked them to the car. Sarah opened the door wordlessly and helped Emily into her booster.
“You look...”
he started.
She raised an eyebrow. “What?”
He faltered.
“Nice. You look nice.”
“Thanks.”
She slammed the car door shut.
“I have plans.”
That landed like a slap.
“Plans,”
he echoed, like he’d never heard the word before.
“Yup.”
“With Carter?”
The name felt stupid in his mouth.
Sarah gave him a look so sharp it could’ve cut glass.
“Matt, if you’re about to get jealous, let me remind you, you had your chance. Multiple naked chances.”
He blinked.
“I’m not jealous.”
“Oh, really?”
“I just...he doesn’t know the kids. He doesn’t know you.”
“And Lily did?”
she shot back.
Oof. That was a direct hit. He winced.
“I just want to know if this is serious.”
”Sarah smirked, leaning against the car door.
“Why? So you can decide whether to care?”
Matt exhaled slowly.
“I’m trying, Sarah.”
She nodded, her tone gentler but no less sharp.
“Try quieter.”
With that, she got in, shut the door, and backed out like she hadn’t just rearranged his entire emotional landscape.
Matt stood there for a long time, watching the SUV disappear down the street. The kids weren’t around to distract him. Lily wasn’t there to throw a wine glass or sob about feeling ignored. The apartment was too quiet, too clean, and the air felt like it had been sucked out of the room.
He sat down at the edge of the Lego castle and stared at the plastic turrets. They looked less like a fortress and more like the ruins of a kingdom he no longer ruled.
For the first time since Sarah had asked him to leave, he truly understood: she was living. And he was... waiting.
Waiting to be forgiven.Waiting to be chosen.Waiting for a woman who might never look at him the same way again. And the worst part?
He deserved it.
He picked up a single Lego block and rolled it between his fingers. Something Tommy had said earlier floated back to him, something about needing a dragon to protect the castle. Matt had laughed at the time, but now it felt like a metaphor wrapped in a bedtime story.
He hadn’t been the dragon. He’d been the invader. The one who scorched what should have been sacred.
His phone buzzed again. A message from his therapist. Just checking in. Don’t forget, Tuesday’s session is open if you want to bring someone.
He stared at the screen, thumb hovering. Then he typed.
“I think I need to talk. Alone." And sent it.
He set the phone down, then picked it back up and scrolled to Lily’s number.
He stared at the contact photo for a long beat, thumb lingering above the call button. She could scratch the itch. That’s what he told himself.
Just a quick hit of validation. A distraction. Something hot and easy to dull the ache in his chest. No emotional labor. No expectations. No kids. No consequences.
But he also knew what came after. The emptiness. The regret. The look in Sarah’s eyes when she’d first found out and that moment had become its own kind of scar. He swallowed hard, thumb still poised. Just one call. That’s all it would take.
But he didn’t press it. He exhaled, backed out of his contacts, and tossed the phone face down on the table, like he could smother the urge along with the screen.
No more detours.
He sat in the quiet, not to escape it, but to feel it. This time, the silence didn’t haunt him. It steadied him.
Then he grabbed his keys and headed to the gym. Not to run from the pain. But to do something with it.