Page 25 of What Broke First (The Cheating A$$hole #1)

Jordan was everything Matt wasn’t. Well-groomed, punctual, respectful, charming in that way that made you want to punch him. He could discuss antique furniture and remember Sarah’s favorite pizza order. He even knew Emily’s favorite animal. (Spoiler: it wasn’t even a real animal, it was a unicorn-pegasus hybrid named Sparkle Bean.)

Matt hated that guy; even with the pep talk he gave him at the hardware store, he would never warm up to him.

He hated him even more when he showed up at Tommy’s soccer game in designer sunglasses and loafers that had definitely never touched a blade of grass.

Sarah re-introduced him casually, as if Matt should just nod and be grateful that Jordan was so... beige. And expensive.

“Hi, Jordan,”

Matt said, forcing a smile.

“Glad you could join us on this scorcher.”

Jordan smiled with a calm, slow nod, like he was accepting an Oscar for Best Supporting Non-Dad.

“Wouldn’t miss it. Tommy’s a real hustler.”

“Oh, he is,”

Matt replied.

“Got it from me.”

“Mm,”

Jordan hummed.

“That’s sweet.”

Matt wanted to slap that mm off his well-moisturized face. But it was Emily, sweet, blunt Emily, who gave Matt his first win.

As they sat together under a little pop-up tent Sarah had brought, Jordan tried too hard. He crouched down in front of her.

“Hey, kiddo, how’s Sparkle Bean doing these days?”

Emily blinked at him.

“Her name’s Aurora now. Sparkle Bean was so last week.”

“Oh,”

Jordan replied, momentarily thrown.

“And she says you’re boring,”

Emily added, before popping a goldfish cracker into her mouth.

Jordan laughed awkwardly.

“Out of the mouths of babes, huh?”

Matt didn’t laugh. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from doing a victory dance.

Later, as the kids ran off for snacks and Sarah went to talk to one of the moms, Matt and Jordan ended up under the tent alone. The silence was like a sandstorm, dry and tense.

Jordan broke it.

“I was surprised when Sarah reached out to me for another date. And here I thought you were worming your way back in.”

Matt turned to him, voice calm.

“Nah, she’s all yours.”

Jordan leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“It appears that she is actually trying to move on. I guess I make her feel safe. You make her feel... history.”

Matt let that settle. Safe vs. history. He wanted her to feel both when he was around. That she could exhale and unravel, that she could laugh and remember who she used to be. He wanted to be her refuge and her rush. But maybe that ship had already sailed.

Jordan eyed him carefully.

“So you’re just going to give up? After all this time trying?”

Matt turned slowly, meeting his gaze. “Give up?”

He gave a hollow laugh.

“No. I’m doing the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’m letting go.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow.

“That’s a hell of a spin on quitting.”

Matt leaned back in his chair, looking up at the sky like it held the answer.

“You think this is easy? Watching the person you love pretend you’re a chapter they already closed? I’ve been showing up, over and over. Begging in ways you’ll never understand. And it’s not enough. She deserves someone who doesn’t feel like a war she has to win every day. And I deserve someone who looks at me like I’m still worth the damn fight.”

He looked over again, sharper now.

“But just remember, I’ve got something you’ll never have.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow, cool and curious.

“I’m a good Dad. And...she loved me first. She loved me hard. And maybe she still does. I have come to realize, as of the last few days, that she will more than likely never come back to me, so I concede. I love her enough to not intrude on her life anymore outside of co-parenting our children.”

Matt didn’t wait for a response. He stood, nodded, and walked toward the snack stand where Emily was convincing the vendor she had enough imaginary money to buy three rainbow slushies.

What he didn’t know was that Sarah had come back toward the tent looking for her water bottle.

She paused just beyond the edge of the canvas, frozen. She’d heard it. All of it. Matt’s voice, steady, resigned, landed like a punch to the ribs. He was letting go.

Her throat tightened. She wanted to step out, to stop him, to undo whatever cosmic misstep had led to this. But her legs wouldn’t move. The air felt too thin, the moment too raw.

Panic crept up her spine, quiet and relentless. She had asked for space, and he had finally taken her at her word. God. Jordan. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him. She did. Maybe more than she wanted to admit.

He was kind, attentive, the type of man who remembered coffee orders and made friends with unicorn-loving six-year-olds. He deserved more, so much more—than being dragged into her emotional fallout.

Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong girl.

She hadn’t meant to use him as a buffer. But that’s what it was, wasn’t it?

A soft landing when the real fall was too much to face. And now, the thought of Jordan catching feelings while she stood here aching for someone else made her stomach churn with guilt.

Because Matt wasn’t waiting anymore, he was walking away.

Saturday came quickly. Date night.

The restaurant was trendy, loud, and dimly lit in that way that made everyone look a little more attractive than they probably were.

Matt stood near the host stand, adjusting his sleeves like it made a difference, heart pounding harder than it should for a dinner he already knew wouldn’t end in fireworks.

Tyler waved him over from a booth near the back. Jules beamed, and next to her sat Marley.

She stood to shake Matt’s hand, her smile confident and her eyes sharp. She wore black jeans, a fitted green blouse, and a necklace shaped like a tiny set of scales.

“You must be the infamous Matt,”

she said, her voice smooth.

“Tyler said you were cute, but he undersold it.”

Matt smiled politely, glancing at Tyler who just shrugged with a smug grin.

Marley was hot. Objectively. Her lipstick was bold, her eyeliner sharper than his last three arguments with Sarah, and when she laughed, it was the kind of sound that turned heads.

But she wasn’t Sarah.

Dinner went better than expected. Marley was a paralegal who clearly loved her job, especially the messy litigation cases. She could quote court decisions and Supreme Court dissents with more passion than most people reserved for music or movies. When Matt brought up his law school days and almost-career path before switching to finance, her eyes lit up.

“So you traded motions and depositions for spreadsheets and client reports,”

she teased.

“I respect it, but I also think you’d make a killer litigator.”

Matt grinned, surprised by how easily the conversation flowed.

“I liked the arguments. The logic puzzles. The pressure. But I guess I didn’t want to build a life where I was always preparing for war.”

Marley sipped her drink.

“Fair. I, on the other hand, love the fight.”

Tyler and Jules were ridiculous together—feeding each other fries and whisper-laughing like teenagers—which should’ve made Matt uncomfortable, but weirdly, it didn’t. For once, he didn’t feel like a third wheel. Just... a guy trying.

After dinner, they headed to a bowling alley down the block. Jules insisted they use fake names on the scoreboard. Tyler wa.

“Sir Strikes-A-Lot.”

Matt, not to be outdone, went wit.

“Pinchelor.”

Marley, naturally, chos.

“Justice is Served.”

Matt bowled a solid 162, but his mind wandered constantly.

To Sarah’s laugh.

To the way she used to dance while folding laundry.

To the way she had looked at him the last time they had dinner. Like maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t completely done.

By the second game, Marley had noticed.

She leaned against the table between turns, arms crossed playfully.

“Okay, confession. I know this was a setup. And I’m cool with that. But I’m also not blind.”

Matt looked at her, apologetic.

“You’re amazing. Seriously. I had a great time tonight.”

“But...”

she prompted.

“But I’m still in love with my ex-wife. And she’s kind of everywhere. Even in here.”

He gestured around the bowling alley.

Marley didn’t flinch. Instead, she smiled, slow and deliberate.

“I could make you forget her. For a night. No expectations. No feelings. Just... a little peace.”

Matt looked at her, tempted for the briefest moment. The idea of escape. Of silence. Of not feeling so damn haunted.

But then he shook his head.

“I can’t. I think that kind of forgetting would break me more.”

Marley nodded, not offended.

“Didn’t think you’d say yes. But it was worth a shot.”

When the girls went to the bathroom, Matt found himself standing beside Tyler at the bar, nursing a ginger ale and watching a group of teens argue over whose turn it was in lane seven.

“She’s cool,”

Tyler said, glancing toward the bathrooms.

“Smart. Funny. Way out of your league.”

Matt chuckled. “Thanks.”

Tyler bumped his shoulder.

“You okay?”

“I think so,”

Matt said.

“Thanks for setting it up. I needed the night out.”

“But?”

“But I’m still stuck. On Sarah. On what we had. On what I lost.”

Tyler nodded slowly.

“You sure you’re not just punishing yourself by staying hung up?”

“Maybe,”

Matt said.

“But if I’m gonna move on, it’s not gonna be with someone I use as a bandage. Marley deserves better.”

“You both do,”

Tyler said.

Matt grabbed his coat.

“Tell the girls I said thank you. And that I’m sorry.”

“You heading out?”

“Yeah. I think I’ve hit my emotional growth quota for the night.”

He left without looking back.

Somewhere, deep in the ache of his chest, he knew he had done the right thing.

He just wished it didn’t feel so lonely.