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Chapter 20

After a week of radio silence, Matt finally calls me to inform me that he has calmed down now and that he's ready to talk it through. Smooth things over. Whatever that might mean for us. I'm on my way over to his motel room as we speak, as he had requested.

He had disappeared, went completely off the radar for a week, which was a bit annoying and disappointing. I can understand his anger and confusion and the lack of eagerness to see me or talk to me, but he got into his car and drove away - no texts, no calls, no note, no explanation. Nothing. If something had happened to him, I wouldn't have known. No one would. It did occur to me that maybe he informed his mother about his whereabouts, but after putting some thought into it I've realized that that's highly unlikely, mostly because he would be ashamed to admit his ignorance to anyone, especially his mother. She would exhale to make a point, her I-knew-it, I-wanted-to-say-something-but-you-seemed-so-happy-so-I-thought-better-of-it exhale. Afterwards she would sigh loudly, more disappointingly than compassionately, "Oh, Matty.."

When he called me this morning, the sound of his voice had surprised me, even though I've seen his name blasting at me from the screen in giant, black letters. It's funny how little time it took for me to forget his tone, or the easiness with which he says certain words, and hardness with which he says others. He wants to meet, today, around 5 pm, in his room. He wants to talk about us. Where we stand. What the future holds for us. Ever since he called, I've been walking around with a lump in my throat, worried about what he's going to say to me, worried about what I'm going to say to him. I've pushed all of my obligations aside today, locked myself in my room with a giant cup of coffee and my laptop.

I didn't miss him even as half as I should have missed him. I didn't think about him that often. His sudden absence wasn't a distraction. When I called and he wouldn't pick up I didn't feel my heart drop to my heels, I felt angry and disappointed and annoyed. Is this how grown ups love? Is this how adult relationships look like? Are they really colder, more distant, infused by negativity rather than sappy, dramatic sentimentality?

It's 5:05 pm. I'm late. It's human decorum. I hate people who arrive early and then glare at you when you arrive five minutes late, like they would rather murder you and bury you in the woods than go through with your meeting. How can they now, when you've disrespected them by being 5 minutes late!? You can be 15 minutes late and still arrive in time, everyone knows this.

I knock on his door, room number seven, and three fast knocks I make start echoing through a long and empty hallway. I can hear footsteps on the other side of the door, approaching the wooden barricade separating our bodies, the only thing that's keeping the storm inside of our hearts from imploding. I swallow.

He swings the door open. He doesn't look any different. I don't know why I thought he would, it's only been a week.

"Elena," he says my name as if he hasn't been expecting me. It sounds rehearsed, false, repeated too many times, my name lost all the flavor on his tongue by now. His taste buds are numb to the five letters making my name. "Come in," he tears his look away from me and shifts his attention to the inside of his room, even though the corners of his eyes continue to linger on my frame, especially once I start moving.

He closes the door as soon as I'm inside. "I'm not going to apologize," he says, and I turn around, confusion filling my facial lines, every curve, every edge, every freckle. "For disappearing, for not answering your calls or texts. You.. what you told me, it was too much to take in all at once."

I cross my arms over my chest, taking a defensive stance. "I was really worried about you," I pull my lips into a long, thin line after those words come out of my mouth. So cold, so detached, so.. scolding?