Page 15 of What Broke First (The Cheating A$$hole #1)

James picked Sarah up in a black SUV that smelled like cedar and competence. He wore a clean white button-down, navy slacks, and the kind of cologne that suggested he moisturized and flossed.

Everything about him screamed stable, which, for a woman whose ex once texted he.

“where r the kids again?”

from a golf course, was a refreshing novelty.

They were headed to a small art exhibit, local artists, overpriced wine, and soft jazz. A safe date. Something grown-ups did when they weren’t busy cleaning soccer cleats or managing heartbreak.

“You look amazing,”

James said as she buckled in. He didn’t leer. He didn’t lick his lips like a cartoon wolf. He just looked at her like she was someone worth dressing up for.

“Thanks,”

she said, adjusting her coat.

“You smell like a high-end bookstore.”

He laughed.

“Oddly specific. But I’ll take it.”

The gallery was tasteful. Understated.

People wandered between abstract paintings, politely murmuring things lik.

“interesting use of texture”

while swirling wine in their glasses and pretending that it meant something.

James was charming. He introduced her to the curator. He knew things about brush strokes and composition. He didn’t once check his phone.

And yet.

Sarah found herself spacing out mid-conversation. Not because James was boring, he wasn’t. But she kept wondering what Matt was doing. If he were at home watching Bluey reruns with the kids. If Emily had convinced him to wear the sparkly tiara she now insisted all grown-ups wear to tea parties.

James leaned in.

“You okay?”

She blinked.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just thinking about... stuff.”

He nodded, understanding more than he let on.

“You don’t have to be perfect tonight.”

She smiled.

“Good, because I left "perfect" somewhere in 2014.”

Later, they had dinner at a quiet little place with mismatched chairs and candlelit menus. James talked about a building he was restoring. Sarah told him about her job in community outreach, the funny things the kids had said that week, and how Tommy now referred to broccoli a.

“crunchy lies.”

It was easy. It was peaceful. But when James walked her to the door and leaned in, slowly and respectfully, waiting for permission, Sarah panicked.

She stepped back.

“I’m sorry,”

she said quickly.

“You’re great. Really. But I think I’m still... unraveling.”

James smiled, not offended.

“I figured. Doesn’t mean I won’t try again.”

She nodded, grateful.

“Just maybe not tonight.”

He gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek, then turned and walked back to his car. Sarah stood at the door for a long moment, coat still on, keys in hand, wondering why something so objectively right felt so flat.

Inside, her phone buzzed.

Matt.

“Emily says you forgot your magic wand. She’s deeply concerned you’ll be powerless at work tomorrow.”

Sarah snorted. Then texted back.

Sarah: Tell her I’ve got a backup wand in my purse. Mom sorcery runs deep. Would you... Call me?

The three dots appeared almost instantly. Then they disappeared. Then reappeared. And then, her phone lit up with his name.

She answered before the second ring. “Hi.”

Matt’s voice came through, warm and almost playful.

“I was starting to think you’d never ask.”

Sarah let out a breath that had apparently been hiding.

“I didn’t plan to. But tonight was... weird.”

“How weird?”

“I went on a date with James. The art gallery guy.”

“Oh,”

Matt said, not hurt, just listening.

“He was lovely. Grown-up. The kind of man who keeps extra chargers in his glove compartment and knows what kind of wine pairs with pork.”

Matt chuckled.

“So naturally, you spent the night thinking about me.”She rolled her eyes, smiling.

“Unfortunately, yes. You were in every shadow. Every silence. Every time I zoned out mid-sentence.”

“Well,”

he said, mock-serious.

“I hope I haunted you tastefully.”

Sarah laughed, and once she started, she couldn’t stop. He said something else, something absurd about James probably doing CrossFit in cufflinks, and it sent her over the edge. She snorted. Loudly.

“God, don’t make me laugh like this. I’m going to cry.”

“That’s kind of my brand,”

Matt said.

“Tragic comedy with decent hair.”

Sarah sniffed, still smiling.

“That’s generous. You’ve always had slightly chaotic hair and questionable comedic timing.”

“I beg to differ. You once laughed so hard you spilled an entire smoothie in your lap.”

“That was because you tried to moonwalk in flip-flops on tile and went down like a tree.”

He groaned.

“That bruise was the size of Nebraska.”

“You wouldn’t let anyone see it unless they promised to rate it on a scale of one to epic.”

Matt laughed.

“It was at least a nine.”

Sarah was quiet for a beat, but it was the good kind of quiet. The kind where the silence didn’t strain or pull, it just held.

“I forgot we used to be like this,”

she said softly.

“Yeah,”

Matt said. “Me too.”

There was a rustle on her end, the sound of her getting comfortable, settling in.

“Can I ask you something?” she said.

“Anything.”

“If I had said yes tonight... if I’d let James kiss me... would it have changed how you feel?”

“No,”

Matt said without hesitation.

“But I might’ve screamed into a pillow for a while.”

She chuckled.

“Honesty. Look at you.”

“I’m trying,”

he said.

“To be honest. To be better. To earn my way back, not talk my way in.”

Sarah didn’t respond right away. When she did, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Keep trying.”

They kept going. Through old memories. New jokes. Updates on the kids. Tommy’s latest broccoli protest. Emily’s tiara tyranny.

It was easy. Familiar, but refreshed, like a favorite sweater that still fits, but smells like clean linen instead of old perfume.

Eventually, after an impossibly long stretch of laughter and shared silences, they both got quiet.

“I should let you sleep,”

Matt said, his voice soft now.

“But this was... really nice.”

“Yeah,”

Sarah murmured. “It was.”

They said goodnight with voices dipped in warmth, like neither one of them wanted to hang up first.

When Sarah climbed into bed, the house felt a little less lonely. And on the other side of town, Matt lay on his back, grinning at the ceiling. Neither knew what tomorrow would bring.

But for tonight, their hearts were in the same place.