47. Matthew

47

MATTHEW

W hen Fischer still hasn't shown up by midnight, I start to worry. Working late is one thing, and while I'm not one to wait up, I run more nocturnal than not.

I texted him a few times, but no response, and granted—he could be busy, but still. It's not like him to go this long without reaching out. I don't like it.

Let me know you're alive?

When I get nothing from that, I start pacing. Could he have gone home? Did something happen to Vaughn?

The thought of that makes my limbs go cold, and I throw on a hoodie while I'm making another round of the room. What do normal people do in these circumstances? Call hospitals? Check out their last known location? He was on the news. He seemed perfectly fine. Not like he was on the verge of a heart attack or anything that would have wound him up in a hospital… How many hospitals are there in New York City anyway? Probably a lot.

While I'm a second away from doing it, I stop myself from calling my parents to see if they know anything. They'd be the last to know, and they're old. They probably go to sleep at eight.

Do I do something? Or do I wait it out? Do I trust him? Or do I panic?

I want to panic. My body is telling me to panic.

I don't feel good. Restless, and more than a little pissed off. Rejected, too—there's that in the murky mix.

By two in the morning, I am calling hospitals. Asking about Vaughn and Fischer. I have no way of knowing whether I'm calling all the possible places either one of them might have wound up, but I have to do something.

And still, I come up with nothing.

I text him again.

Fischer—what the fuck? Call me.

Dawn rises with no word. I'm so agitated when I call my parents' house, I have to grip the kitchen counter so I don't start yelling the second they pick up.

My mother answers. "Good morning," she says, her voice cool and measured.

I frown. "Good morning?"

"What can I do for you so early?"

What kind of question is that? "Have you talked to Fischer?"

"No. And I'd prefer to keep it that way."

Okay.

Something is definitely wrong.

"Why's that?" I ask cautiously.

"Oh, Matthew." Her disappointed tone is beyond familiar. "You know precisely why." And she hangs up.

I stare at the phone in disbelief.

Immediately I'm dialing Maggie's number. "Matty," she says, sounding out of breath. "Are you okay?"

"What the fuck is going on? Mom just hung up on me."

"Have you talked to Fischer?"

" No ." I want to scream.

"Maybe I should come over."

"Tell me what the fuck is happening right now, Maggie, or I swear to God?—"

"Nicole is suing Fischer for full custody of Vaughn."

I stand up straight, letting go of the counter. "Since when?"

"Yesterday, I think."

I reach up and finger one of the etched glass leaves on the tree, trying to make sense of this. "Do you know why?"

"I think I should come over. We can talk."

I shake my head vehemently. "I don't want you here. Anything you have to say, you can say on the phone. Maybe start with why Fischer isn't returning my calls or texts."

She sighs heavily putting loud static in my ear. "I can only tell you what I think is happening because I'm not totally in the loop. And it's gonna upset you."

My stomach does a violent roll. "I'm already upset, so maybe just spit it out."

"I think Nicole is nervous about your relationship with Fischer."

"Nervous? How does she even know about it?"

"You know Ravenna Gallo right?"

My jaw tightens. "Yes."

"And was there some incident in a mailroom she might have stumbled on?"

Fuck.

If Ravenna had been coming in instead of going out, like I thought she had been, she could have definitely gotten an eyeful of Fischer and me mauling each other before he dropped his cane and she called out his name. Why she would have gone running to Nicole about it is a question for another time. "What the hell does this have to do with Vaughn?"

"I'm not sure. I'm planning to call her, but we're all kind of freaking out right now."

"Who's we?"

"Mom, Dad, Stuart, his parents."

"His parents?" What the hell?

"I think our mom called his mom whose close with the Gallos—I don't know, but they're all breathing down Stuart's neck, and bottom line is I think we all need to stay out of it—let Fischer and Nicole sort this out."

"How do you know about all this?" I ask even as the leaf I'm messing with comes off in my hand. I rub my thumb over the etching and stare down at it, trying like hell to focus and make sense of what's going on.

"Fischer called me yesterday after Nicole filed the paperwork, and that's the only reason I know anything. I haven't talked to her."

"So you called Mom about it but not me?"

"I figured Fischer would call you."

"He didn't," I snap at her.

"Oh. Well…I might have told him to stay away from you. At least until…" Her voice trails off as her words sink in.

"You told him to what?"

I can hear her sharp breath. Like she's bracing herself. "Can I explain?"

"Yeah, you better start."

"Look, I understand everything you told me about you and him last week. I grew up in that house too, but I wasn't with you every second, so I can't even be called to say, no they were never alone together. Like as in when you were underage, and he was a grown ass man."

"No," I say. "No, no, no, no…this isn't right. You know for a fact he wanted nothing to do with us."

"Nicole doesn't. And Matty, I've gotta be honest with you. The way you two are together—the way you've always been…I don't believe you about when it started either."

"Please tell me you are fucking joking ."

She sniffs like she's started crying. Like she's the one who's losing something. I could fucking reach through the phone and strangle her. "Just be honest with me, please. I won't say anything. I just need to know you were okay."

"Un-fucking-believable. What kind of person do you people think he is? What are you accusing him of? Touching me? Grooming me? What ?"

"I don't know," she whines.

"He wanted even less to do with me than he did with you. You've all gone fucking crazy. Nicole I get—she didn't know him back then, but Mom ?"

"What is she supposed to think? You're her baby, and he made himself a complete stranger. And you just moved in with him—like you could have been planning that for years?—"

"What the fuck ?" I'm shouting now.

"You can't blame Nicole for wanting to protect her son."

"Oh my God." All the scattered bits and pieces gather together in my mind all at once, and I get the full picture.

It's devastating. I wobble on my feet and reach for the counter again, the leaf of glass falling to the floor, bouncing but not breaking.

If this ever gets out, whether in family court or online since Fischer is a public figure, I know how the clickbait articles would read.

No one who doesn't know us would ever truly believe that my childhood was about as innocent as they come. That every time Fischer showed up for whatever reason, my mom practically had to introduce him to us— You remember your big brother, Fischer, right?

"This is never gonna be okay," I whisper as it crashes over me all at once.

"Sweetie…" She's still crying like she's losing something precious without a clue what this is going to do to me. How the idea of not seeing Fischer for an indefinite amount of time feels like scraping out the inside of my heart. "I know you think you love him, but this was never gonna work. You know that right?"

"No…" I say with complete honesty. "I didn't know that. I actually thought you'd be happy for me. For us."

She sniffs again, but then she decides on another tactic.

"Matty, tell me the truth. How did you see it ending?"

"With him ," I say.

"I can't see it," she tells me.

"That's not my problem."

"Can we both acknowledge that I probably know you better than anyone?"

I frown down at my hands and shake my head. "You don't know me the way he does."

I can practically hear her eyes rolling.

"Fine," she sighs. "But I know you pretty fucking well. And over the last—what? seven? Eight years? You've had a revolving door of lovers. One right after another, and every time, you rhapsodize about them—how they're special, perfect, this one , you'll say—there's no one like her. I'm obsessed."

A tear falls on my hands, and then another.

"You've asked me how many times, is this what love feels like ?" She pauses for a breath while I wipe my cheeks only for them to get wet with tears again. "I know this thing you have for Fischer hasn't run its course yet, and I'm sure this sucks for you, but you and I both know it was going to end badly."

I lock my jaw and shake my head, but I won't respond to that. Fuck her . Fuck everyone who can't mind their own goddamn business and let two people live their lives. It's not even worth arguing. I know she thinks she's trying to protect me. And I know she's had her suspicions since Fischer's recovery. But I also know from the bottom of my rapidly breaking heart how wrong she is.

"Would you have ever accepted us?" I ask her.

She's silent a long time. "I would have tried."

"I have to go."

"No. Why? What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna be alone, apparently. That's what you wanted, right? Well, you win. Hope you have a great fucking day."

"Matty!"

I end the call.

I'll forgive her for this eventually. Maybe. But I can picture that about as well as she can picture me in a relationship. Forget the fact that before this, Fischer and I were living together.

Forget the fact that the idea of going twenty-four hours without him is giving me actual chest pain. And forget the fact that what I said to her on our walk the other day wasn't "is this what love feels like?" It was "I get it now. It's him."