Yours Musically

66. Sad Song

Chapter Sixty Six - Sad Song

My eyes opened to meet the direct sunlight coming in through the window. Groaning, I brought my palm over my face to block it.

The mattress moved next to me, and my eyes flew open to find Matt stepping out of bed and pulling the curtains to block the light.

It took me a moment to register that I was in his room before the events of last night rushed back, knocking me wide awake.

I hadn't even been awake for a whole minute and I already felt like shit.

"Thank you," I muttered to Matt.

He threw me half a smile over his shoulder. His hair was a mess, and I couldn't help but notice he needed a haircut. He'd never had his hair grown long enough to have it completely sweep across his forehead. But he looked really hot like that so I wasn't complaining.

I lazily sat up on his bed and took a quick look at my phone. No new missed calls or messages.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, catching my attention. Once again, I found myself taking in his appearance. He had bags under his eyes and yet looked completely awake and alert. Was there a chance he'd barely gotten any sleep last night?

"Much better," I answered, then sighed. "I think I should go home now."

"But?"

I swallowed. His brows were raised. He knew there was a but.

"But I don't want to."

"Then don't. You can stay here for as long as you want to."

I smiled. "Thanks, Matt. But I have to go."

I stepped out of bed and put my feet in the pair of slippers he'd placed there for me. They were too large for my feet, so I decided to go back barefoot.

"Call me if you need anything," he ordered, a little v sitting between his brows. I hadn't realized how much my problems affected him until then.

"I will," I reassured him and left.

Two minutes later, I stood on my porch, debating if I should go in or back to Matt's house. The latter was very tempting, but I knew I had to go with the former.

I finally pushed the door open and walked inside. The house was dead silent. No sign of my mother, or my father, or Blake.

I took in a deep breath and settled down on the living room couch, eyeing the wrapped boxes on the table, not moved an inch since last night. Someone must have put the cake in the refrigerator if my mother hadn't already thrown it in the trash in a fit of anger.

The sound of footsteps from the direction of the stairs startled me and eased me at the same time. I was dying to come across someone in the house. It was Blake. The moment he walked into the room and saw me, a look of surprise fell on his face. "When did you come back?"

"Just a minute ago." I looked around nervously before asking, "Where's mom and dad?"

"They're upstairs."

"Did they...did they have a fight because of me?"

He deflected from that question and asked me if he could get me something to eat.

"No, I'm good," I replied, getting up for a glass of water. I made it to the kitchen and frowned at the sight of it. Everything was a mess in there like nobody had taken care of it after dinner last night. The dishes were undone, the counter was dirty, and stuff that usually sat in the pantry was lying around carelessly.

I walked back into the living room. "Where's Mrs. Brooke?"

Blake did not answer me, and I slowly came to realization.