door frame above my head. His body language feels aggressive, and suddenly, the hallway has become very small. My organized thoughts scatter, and all I can think about is how close he is to me and how it felt to be in his arms earlier.
“Bloody hell, Kate, I don’t understand why I’m standing in this hallway. What is it about you? I haven’t seen you for all these years, yet here you are, right here, and it’s as if it were yesterday that we were in my flat in Hayloft Alley.” His dark eyes burrow into me, pleading for me to help him understand. I have no answers for him. I am taken aback by his outburst, confused by his expression of emotions.
“I'm really sorry, Matthew.” I apologize for causing him distress, blushing slightly at the memory of that night. “I didn’t know you would be here … I never expected to see you again.” I stare into his turbulent eyes and see a flood of emotions in them: rage, sadness, pity, sorrow, and pain.
“You. Never. Expected. To. See. Me. Again.” Sarcastically, Matthew repeats the words that I have spoken to him, twisting them, implying something different than what I have said. The pain in his voice cuts into me. He stares at the floor, his head hanging, lost in his thoughts while I try to sort out what on earth is happening here.
“What happened, Kate?” Matthew asks quietly, turning his head toward me, his demeanor now more composed. Although his question is genuine, all I can do is shrug in response. I have no solid answer, I have no true explanation. Fate happened, and destiny stepped in. He never wrote to me. He moved away, I went to college, life moved on. That old familiar burn creeps up my windpipe, like a wild beast let loose from its cage, and my eyes sting with tears. The tightness in my chest is painful, and the more I try to suppress it, the worse it becomes. I have to get away from him; I scramble for the door handle, sliding my key through the electronic reader, vigorously shaking my head.
“I don’t know, I can’tttt ... I’m sorryyy.” My voice stutters and vibrates; I turn and quickly push inside my room, trying to escape the humiliation of breaking down under the bright lights of the hallway, in front of
him
, the cause of all my pain. I grab a tissue and take some deep breaths to calm myself, hoping each breath will shove down the raw emotions that have somehow been let loose. I realize that Matthew has followed me inside; he quietly closes the door and takes a seat on the end of my bed.
“Come on, Kate, surely we can do better than this. Come sit.” His voice is calm and soothing.Somewhere, a part of me deep inside recognizes it and responds to him. He pats the bed beside him, and I slowly move toward him and sit next to him. “We used to be able to talk for hours about anything. Let’s talk this through. I need closure, Kate. You left me with a gaping hole, and it took years to for me to move on. From the look of you, it hurt you, too. Help me understand why, please.”
The room is dark except for the moonlight shining through the window. His face is lit by the glow, and he looks so melancholy and magnificent. I am shocked by what he has said, so confused as my fogged, jet-lagged brain tries to process his words. I always assumed he went off and started a new life in Australia and never looked back. He chose never to respond to me; he never once attempted to contact me, and I convinced myself that he never loved me, that what we shared wasn’t real. I never dreamed he was as heartbroken as I was.
CHAPTER 8
First Love
Matthew Sullivan, or “Sully,” as he is called by his friends, is two years ahead of me at Anderson James Senior School. He is quiet and shy, especially when surrounded by the other boys, who seem to be full of raging hormones and in a constant fight for attention. Sully appears to be content in the shadows, much like me, never bringing unnecessary attention toward himself. I don’t ever recall him having a
“Bloody hell, Kate, I don’t understand why I’m standing in this hallway. What is it about you? I haven’t seen you for all these years, yet here you are, right here, and it’s as if it were yesterday that we were in my flat in Hayloft Alley.” His dark eyes burrow into me, pleading for me to help him understand. I have no answers for him. I am taken aback by his outburst, confused by his expression of emotions.
“I'm really sorry, Matthew.” I apologize for causing him distress, blushing slightly at the memory of that night. “I didn’t know you would be here … I never expected to see you again.” I stare into his turbulent eyes and see a flood of emotions in them: rage, sadness, pity, sorrow, and pain.
“You. Never. Expected. To. See. Me. Again.” Sarcastically, Matthew repeats the words that I have spoken to him, twisting them, implying something different than what I have said. The pain in his voice cuts into me. He stares at the floor, his head hanging, lost in his thoughts while I try to sort out what on earth is happening here.
“What happened, Kate?” Matthew asks quietly, turning his head toward me, his demeanor now more composed. Although his question is genuine, all I can do is shrug in response. I have no solid answer, I have no true explanation. Fate happened, and destiny stepped in. He never wrote to me. He moved away, I went to college, life moved on. That old familiar burn creeps up my windpipe, like a wild beast let loose from its cage, and my eyes sting with tears. The tightness in my chest is painful, and the more I try to suppress it, the worse it becomes. I have to get away from him; I scramble for the door handle, sliding my key through the electronic reader, vigorously shaking my head.
“I don’t know, I can’tttt ... I’m sorryyy.” My voice stutters and vibrates; I turn and quickly push inside my room, trying to escape the humiliation of breaking down under the bright lights of the hallway, in front of
him
, the cause of all my pain. I grab a tissue and take some deep breaths to calm myself, hoping each breath will shove down the raw emotions that have somehow been let loose. I realize that Matthew has followed me inside; he quietly closes the door and takes a seat on the end of my bed.
“Come on, Kate, surely we can do better than this. Come sit.” His voice is calm and soothing.Somewhere, a part of me deep inside recognizes it and responds to him. He pats the bed beside him, and I slowly move toward him and sit next to him. “We used to be able to talk for hours about anything. Let’s talk this through. I need closure, Kate. You left me with a gaping hole, and it took years to for me to move on. From the look of you, it hurt you, too. Help me understand why, please.”
The room is dark except for the moonlight shining through the window. His face is lit by the glow, and he looks so melancholy and magnificent. I am shocked by what he has said, so confused as my fogged, jet-lagged brain tries to process his words. I always assumed he went off and started a new life in Australia and never looked back. He chose never to respond to me; he never once attempted to contact me, and I convinced myself that he never loved me, that what we shared wasn’t real. I never dreamed he was as heartbroken as I was.
CHAPTER 8
First Love
Matthew Sullivan, or “Sully,” as he is called by his friends, is two years ahead of me at Anderson James Senior School. He is quiet and shy, especially when surrounded by the other boys, who seem to be full of raging hormones and in a constant fight for attention. Sully appears to be content in the shadows, much like me, never bringing unnecessary attention toward himself. I don’t ever recall him having a
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