The Muse's Undoing

“Why do you keep asking this? Do you want to hang out with me?”

“Why do you sound surprised?” I ask.

“Just because you’re busy, and we’re basically total opposites. It’s not like you need my help with anything anymore.”

I give him a skeptical look. “Really?”

“Well, assuming you got it all out,” he says regarding the breakdown I just had on him.

“Let’s assume I didn’t,” I say, rearranging myself until I’m tucked between him and the back of the couch. Our legs slot together, and I settle against his chest in his easy embrace. I keep wondering if I’m too much, but he keeps accommodating.

He runs a soothing hand over my hair. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I’m just making sure we’re good, Matty.”

“Well, I’m glad you asked, but we’re good. I’m here for whatever you need. You know that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Shutting my eyes, I finally exhale. This is exactly what I needed. Even if it’s only for ten minutes. Being this close to him reminds me of the last time in my life I felt truly safe and cared for. “Do you think the divorce has been hard on Vaughn?”

“Hm. Probably something you should ask him.”

“You don’t think that kind of question would be traumatizing?”

“Pfft. No. I feel like it would help him understand he can talk to you about his feelings, but even if it backfires and messes him up forever—oh well. Every kid has a sad backstory of some kind,” Matthew says.

I laugh. “Oh yeah? What’s yours?”

“You don’t know mine? Well, let me tell you about my big brother…”

I groan and dig my face into his shoulder.

“Who was never around, never wanted anything to do with me or my sister…”

“Look…”

“And you have no idea what it’s like being a neurodivergent leftie in school. My teachers hated me. Meanwhile, my twin—the perfect one with all the friends who everybody loved and is getting married to Stuart Fucking March in the fucking Pierre in October is cementing my spot as the family loser.”

“You’re not a loser. You work harder than anyone I know.”

“Yeah, because my job is so mentally and physically taxing.”

“When was the last time you missed a day of work?” I ask him.

“I don’t know.”

“And do you spend all your time off napping?”

“No…”

“No, you’re probably blowing glass or some shit.”

Matthew laughs. “I thought you were gonna say something else, but I wish I could blow glass. I saw on YouTube you can visit a couple of glass blowers in Venice. I’d love to do that. Although I think they use like—an open flame pit, which I’m guessing isn’t feasible in my building.”

I chuckle against his chest. “I do need to get you to Venice one of these days.”