The Muse's Undoing

“Maybe I should,” he says, surprising me. He usually fights his need to sleep a little longer. Maybe he’s still avoiding me. The unwelcome thought makes my stomach turn.

Gently, he removes my leg from his lap and stands, shucking his jacket and laying it over the back of the couch. He yawns. “You have everything you need?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Did you wanna keep talking?’

I shift and avoid his eyes. “We can talk later.”

“You know, if you do marry someone, no more sleepovers,” he says.

I rub my thigh, trying to make it stop tingling from his firm touch. “Would you miss sleeping over?”

“I didn’t invite myself,” he says before disappearing into my bedroom.

I roll my eyes. He’s pretty sharp this morning for someone who was up all night.

When the shower starts, I make a game time decision. I’m going back to bed until Nicole and Vaughn get here. I barely slept last night either, and who knows when Matthew will show up again. I don’t want to waste it.

I set aside my coffee and make my way back to the bedroom, closing the door to block out the light from the living room. My bedroom’s shutters are down, and it gets dark enough in here for Matthew to sleep. I take off my pants because I can’t sleep in them and get under the covers, hoping my presence won’t make it harder for him to fall asleep.

I’m facing the bathroom door, setting the alarm on my phone, when it opens.

“I don’t need my back rubbed,” he says.

“Maybe I do.”

“Fischer…” He trails off and looks down at the floor.

“Is everything okay? I feel like you’re half here.”

He takes a deep breath. “It’s fine.”

“Good. Then let me hold you for a few minutes,” I say. “If I’m bugging you, you can kick me out?—”

“It doesn’t bug me,” he says, but it seems like he leaves something unsaid, too.

“Okay…?”

“You want to hold me…”

I’m not totally oblivious. I know our relationship toes a line, and I know we play it off like it’s not a big deal, but it’s actually a huge deal. To me anyway. I can’t be around him without wanting him closer. It’s not in my nature. But if something more were going to happen, it would have happened by now. It would have happened years ago. I assume seeing me in the state I was in after my injury was the turnoff of a lifetime.

He cared for my body with his hands and his time, but I credit the simple fact of his presence with the fact that I was able to regain the mental strength to go back to work. He held me together when I was in literal pieces, and I’ll never stop missing those days when I could reach back and find his hand any time I needed it.

He was my silver lining.

Granted, a few weeks ago, I went too far, but we have to talk about it. Not communicating about something this important feels like a betrayal of our friendship.

“Did I go too far the last time you were here? Is that why I haven’t seen as much of you?”

He licks his lips and leans on the doorjamb. “Do you think you went too far?”

“I don’t know, Matthew. I’m asking.”

“I don’t know how to answer that.”

“Honestly?” I suggest.