Page 28 of What Broke First (The Cheating A$$hole #1)

Matt was up early. Too early, really, but being awake beat the alternative, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and replaying every bad decision like a personal highlight reel.

He pulled into Sarah’s driveway just as the sun began spraying its rays all over the pavement as if the universe was mocking him with a cinematic entrance.

The smell of fresh coffee floated from the open kitchen window, mingling with the faint sound of laughter. The kids were at the table, mid-giggle, probably using syrup as paint again. His heart pulled tight and loose at the same time like it hadn’t decided if this was joy or heartbreak.

He knocked once, then let himself in. Tommy and Emily were deep into their waffle mission, faces sticky and happy.

“Dad!”

Emily beamed, syrup practically gluing her to the chair.

“You’re early!”

“Big Boss Dad,”

Tommy declared with the gravitas of a seasoned news anchor.

“We told Ms. Fallon you run your whole job now.”

Matt chuckled, ruffling their hair.

“I don’t run the whole thing, buddy. But yeah... big week.”

Sarah stood near the kitchen island, pale and brittle-looking, her laptop open like a shield. Her arms were crossed so tightly it was a wonder she was still breathing.

“Upstairs, guys,”

she said, not looking at him.

“Brush your teeth, grab your shoes.”

As the kids thundered away, the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Sarah turned the laptop toward him without a word.

There it was: a photo of him from the firm’s charity event, grinning in his tux like some smug finance Ken doll.

The one of him and Lily. Laughing. Dancing. Her hand in his. Looking too familiar, too comfortable. Like something out of a tabloid scandal with the headline Still Got It?

He exhaled slowly.

“Sarah... It’s not what it looks like.”

“What is it then?”

Her voice was low, brittle.

“Because I look at this and I see a man who didn’t think I even deserved to know he made partner. I had to hear it from our kids, Matt. After everything.”

“I wasn’t hiding it,”

he said.

“I just didn’t want to make things worse. After our last therapy session, I thought... You were done with me. That you were tired of me trying.”

“So you just stopped?”

she asked, incredulous. Her eyes were glassy now.

“You got everything you wanted. The job. The title. The celebration. And I got to see you dancing with the woman who literally blew up our marriage.”

Matt took a careful step forward.

“I’m not with Lily. That dance was nothing. She congratulated me. That was it. I don’t want her. I haven’t wanted anyone but you.”

Sarah let out a shaky breath.

“But you didn’t tell me. Not even a text. And that photo? That’s not nothing. That’s a thousand assumptions burning a hole in my chest.”

He inched closer, voice gentler now.

“I thought I was doing the right thing. Giving you space. Not pushing. Not begging. Just showing up for the kids and stepping back so you could breathe. I didn’t think I had the right to pull you back again. And there was that Jordan guy...”

She stared at him, eyes burning.

“But I was waiting. I was waiting for the man who showed up with dinner. Who kissed me like it still meant something. I was waiting, Matt. And then you disappeared again.”

Sarah hesitated, then asked quietly.

“Did you ever go out with Marley?”

Matt gave a small nod, his jaw tightening.

“Yeah. One date.”

She looked at him, unreadable. “And?”

“I told her I’m still in love with my ex-wife,”

he said, voice calm but clear.

“That kind of kills the vibe.”

The silence hit like a blow to the gut. Matt’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t know you were still hoping.”

Her voice cracked.

“Neither did I.”

The moment stretched long and thin.

She turned, wiping her cheek.

“The kids are almost ready.”

Matt nodded, but instead of heading to the door, he paused. Then turned back around. He crossed the space between them, gently took her shoulders, and wrapped his arms around her.

She didn’t pull away. Not right away.

“I’ve been miserable since our last session,”

he said quietly.

“I thought you were taking a shot with Jordan. I thought you were done with me. That you didn’t like the groveling, but if you want me to grovel, I will simp so hard, Sarah, they’ll write songs about it. I’ll out-grovel every man in America.”

A laugh snorted out of her, unwilling but real.

He rested his forehead against hers.

“I miss you. Every hour. I didn’t stop trying. I just got scared that my trying made it harder for you. But if there’s even a thread left between us, I will hold onto it with everything I’ve got.”

Sarah’s fingers clutched at his shirt. Just slightly. But she didn’t let go. And neither did he.

They stood like that for another long second, the storm of the last year still present, but quieter now. A little less deadly. A little more survivable.

“Okay,”

she finally said.

“Okay?”

he echoed.

“I don’t know what this is,”

she said.

“But I’m not ready to let it go yet either.”

Matt nodded, something behind his eyes breaking open just a little.

“Then I won’t stop. I’ll be right here.”

And for the first time in a long time, Sarah believed him.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs broke the quiet between them. A moment later, Tommy’s voice rang out.

“Mom, I can’t find my...”

He stopped at the bottom step, eyes wide. Emily barreled in behind him and nearly collided with his back.

“What’s wrong, oh!”

she squealed.

Both kids froze, their gazes landing on their parents still wrapped in an embrace.

Tommy blinked.

“Are you guys... hugging?”

Then he crossed his arms and gave them both a look that was too grown-up for his eight-year-old face.

“You better not be messing with each other’s feelings. That’s what Ms. Fallon says about her ex-boyfriend. It’s called emotional confusion.”

Sarah laughed, hand over her mouth.

“Thanks, buddy. Duly noted.”

Emily skipped over and hugged Sarah’s leg.

“Can we have pancakes tomorrow if you’re still in love?”

Matt crouched down and pulled both kids into a hug, grinning.

“You’ll get pancakes no matter what. But maybe we’ll all make them together.”

The kids whooped, satisfied with the answer, and darted off toward the front door to grab their shoes.

Sarah watched them go, her throat tight again, but this time, it wasn’t from pain.

It was hope. Warm and fragile, but still alive.