Page 30 of What Broke First (The Cheating A$$hole #1)
Matt woke to the soft weight of Sarah against his chest, her hand curled over his heart like it had never belonged anywhere else. The faint blue glow of the paused TV lit up the tangled blankets and empty popcorn bowls.
His neck ached. His arm was asleep. And still, he didn’t move.
Sarah stirred beside him, brow furrowing slightly as if her dreams were stubborn. When her eyes finally fluttered open, she blinked at the ceiling for a few seconds before glancing up at him.
“Oh,”
she said, voice still foggy with sleep. “Hi.”
Matt gave her a lazy, lopsided smile. “Hey.”
She didn’t move. Neither did he. It was tender. Quiet. Awkward in the way that came when hope and fear sat too close together. Before they could ruin it with overthinking,
She nuzzled against him, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, not as a reminder of the past but as something new and solid, like they were both becoming better versions of themselves, together and on purpose.
Tommy’s voice rang out from the hallway.
“Are you guys, like, dating again or what?”
Emily gasped theatrically.
“Mom! Did you kiss him on the mouth?”
Sarah groaned and buried her face in Matt’s chest.
“They’ve been watching too much Disney Channel.”
Matt laughed, ruffling her hair before reluctantly untangling himself.
“Okay, okay. Let’s get breakfast going before this turns into a courtroom drama.”
As they scrambled eggs and burned toast, Matt caught Sarah watching him, soft eyes, guarded smile.
“Let’s take the kids somewhere this weekend,”
he said casually.
“The lake, maybe. Or the zoo. Just us. No pressure. Just... test the waters.”
Sarah hesitated.
“Like a trial run?”
“No,”
Matt said, then grinned.
“More like a low-stakes field trip.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You’re such a dork.”
“Yeah, but I’m your dork. Tentatively. Hopefully.”
Later that afternoon, Matt pulled into his driveway, still humming the theme song from Phineas and Ferb, the miniature Queen Emily had made them all watch. He spotted a thick envelope leaning against his doorframe, official letterhead, his name in sharp serif font.
He opened it on the spot.
It was a relocation proposal. A fast-track executive role, one that came with more money, more prestige, and a big fat catch.
It wasn’t in town.
He swallowed hard, the letter trembling slightly in his hands. They had only just announced his partnership publicly, and already they were making moves. This would change everything.
That evening, Sarah met him on the porch as the kids wrestled on the lawn. Her face was calm, but something simmered behind her eyes.
“There’s something I should probably tell you,” she said.
Matt tensed. “Okay?”
She rubbed her arms like the truth might warm her.
“The divorce papers. I never filed them.”
He blinked. “What?”
“They came back with final redlines. I was supposed to sign and file. I... I didn’t. I shoved them into my side table drawer and closed it.”
Matt was silent, the words hitting like a warm gust of wind instead of a slap.
“You can be mad,”
she added quickly.
“It wasn’t fair. But I think... maybe I was waiting to see if you’d give up.”
Matt shook his head, stepping past her into the living room.
“I’m not mad.”
He walked straight up the stairs, into what used to be their bedroom, and to the bedside table drawer.
Opened it.
There they were.
He pulled the papers out slowly, heart thudding, then, without fanfare, ripped them in half. Then into quarters. Then more.
Sarah gasped from behind him, “Matt—”
“I’m not walking away,”
he said simply.
“Not now. Not when we’ve come this far.”
She stared at him, stunned.
“You tore me down,”
he said gently.
“And I needed that. I was becoming a shell of a man. The kind who moves through life without heart, who treats love like an accessory instead of the main event. You saw that. Called it out. And maybe you didn’t do it gently, but you weren’t wrong.”
He stepped forward, voice low but fierce.
“So yeah, you tore me down. But then, I rebuilt. Brick by brick. For the kids, absolutely. But for me, too. For the man I never want to stop becoming. And... for you. For the chance to be the man you deserve.”
Sarah took a long, steadying breath.
“I’m not sorry for tearing you down,”
she said quietly.
“You needed it. You deserved it. But something Dr. Colleen said stuck with me, and we both checked out of our marriage. We spent so much time focused on whether we could look at each other that we forgot to look at ourselves. I stopped looking at myself. I withdrew, even from myself.
No, that doesn’t excuse what you did. But I see now... I wasn’t really showing up either.”
Matt watched her, heart thudding.
“I don’t want to be emotionally dependent on you,”
she continued.
“I want to be whole on my own. Strong on my own. And I’m not there yet. But this thing we’re doing? This gritty, messy, real thing? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Matt suddenly whooped, loud and unfiltered, making Sarah jump and then burst out laughing.
“You just gave me more hope in one minute than I’ve had in months,”
he said, spinning in a circle like a kid who just got picked first for recess.
Tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes. She wiped one away as she laughed.
“Once again, you’re such a dork.”
He stepped in close again.
“Let’s take that trip. Cabin. Marshmallows. Stars. S’mores. The telescope. Just us and the kids. A little weekend where nothing has to be decided but everything can be felt.”
Sarah nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek.
“Let’s do it,”
she whispered. And just like that, they began making reservations. Googling cabins. Searching for sleeping bags and butterfly nets. Packing up snacks and favorite books and flashlights and maybe a little bit of faith.
Not perfect.
But finally, undeniably, forward.