Truth & Tenderness (14 page)

“Me too.”

They walked through the second floor; Bennett clearly wasn’t listening to a word Matt was saying, but Amy and Hilary were taking notes, so he kept going. Was it one of the young men in the office? He found himself checking everyone who walked by for their reaction, for Bennett’s. Something awful and uncomfortable rose in Matt’s chest. He knew they were wrong and ugly to think, but his old fears were never fully exorcised from his system. What if Evan met a woman, decided to go back to something more familiar?

“If you have any questions, just call the office,” Matt said in conclusion, directly addressing the two women standing to his left. “You have all the codes?”

Hilary nodded. “Yes, thank you, Matt.”

They all shook hands while ignoring Bennett, who’d wandered over to look out the window. Matt stared at his back, roiling with irritation.

And then he got mad at himself for walking over.

They stood shoulder to shoulder, watching Bryant Park pull lunch-carrying worker bees and curious tourists to its green canopy. Matt tried to sort through the puzzle pieces of his annoyance and worry as Bennett breathed wetly next to him.

“I don’t know what happened,” Bennett whispered. “I don’t—I haven’t seen him in ten years, and then he came back and I thought… what if I made a mistake?”

Matt curled his hands into fists. “A mistake? You thought your relationship was a mistake? Then you know what? Tell your wife you’re confused before you fuck someone else,” he said, low and cold.

Bennett bowed his head. “I can’t explain it,” he whispered. “I… panicked. He was someone I was with for a long time….”

“You
were
with him. Past tense,” Matt snapped. “Now you have a wife and a kid. All that sun and moon and stars bullshit—doting on her, making her feel like she could trust you.” Matt’s heart beat furiously in his chest. He wanted to take a swing at Bennett’s head, knock some sense into him. “How many other people did you fuck behind her back?”

“There was no one else,” Bennett insisted, shaking his head. “No one—just her.”

“If that were true, she would be waiting for you at home.”

Matt couldn’t take another second of his presence, so he turned away without another word and left.

E
VAN
SPENT
the entire day feeling like a massive asshole.

Yes, he had meetings to attend. Yes, he had things to do. But in the end, he couldn’t bypass the fact that all of it, every irritating piece of paper that crossed his desk, every phone call that involved him being helpful and not effective—all of it could have done without him for a few hours.

He replayed the fight with Matt a thousand times, each version tightening the vise on his stomach a bit tighter. The worse part was, how many times had he had that fight with Sherri?

The indecision of what to do next haunted him. Call Matt? Text him? Leave early and take care of the kids? By then it would be too late. Matt would have already rearranged his schedule.

Jesus, he was a dick.

“Stop thinking so hard, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Evan looked up to find Casper in his doorway.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“Yeah, actually, it can.”

T
HEY
SPLIT
a bag of Swedish Fish from the vending machine, and two sodas. Casper took off his jacket and Evan shut the door, because for five minutes, he was going to vent his spleen and maybe figure out what the hell to do next.

“So you just left?” Casper asked, his voice even.

“Yes. I left him to deal with the day and never even called to make sure it was taken care of.” Evan flicked one of the limp red fish across his blotter. “Which makes me an incredible asshole.”

“Or a guy who’s trying to get out of a shitty precinct and prove that a gay captain isn’t a liability or a publicity stunt,” Casper responded.

Evan looked up, surprised. “I thought you of all people would agree with my asshole assessment.”

“Why? Because my relationship broke up?” Casper leaned back in his chair, a tired smile on his face. “It wasn’t our careers that broke us up, Evan. It wasn’t even taking each other for granted. It was about wanting different things.” He shrugged one shoulder, casual and dismissive. “One day you realize that all those plans you made weren’t feasible anymore. Or necessary. Right now he’s down in Washington, DC, shacked up with a guy twenty years younger, pretending he likes kale. He doesn’t want to be forty-five? Okay. I don’t want to babysit someone’s inadequacies.”

Evan nodded, flicked another fish. “I thought you both just worked too much,” he admitted.

“We did. Because we didn’t want to go home.” Casper gestured to the office around them. “Crappy office, long hours, busywork, and bullshit policy? I would take it for hours and hours just so I didn’t have to walk through that door and face another night of contemptuous stares.”

Another fish disappeared into the little tray for Evan’s phone messages.

“Or worse, disappointment.”

Evan thought back to Sherri, to walking through the door at ten o’clock and feeling a twinge of irritation for a messy house or another plate of pasta in the microwave. How many times had he rushed out the door in the morning without thinking about Sherri handling four kids and the house without his help?

“I’ve fallen into the same crappy routine of my first… relationship,” Evan said quietly. He didn’t look up this time. “If I want to blame someone for this fight—for this pattern—it’s all on me.”

“Bullshit. It takes two people to fuck up a relationship.”

A cold chill ran down Evan’s spine. “I have to get home,” he murmured, gathering his phone and keys. “I really have to get home.”

H
E
SPENT
the drive and the rush-hour traffic delays practicing what he might say. How to apologize for resetting their household in old, negative patterns. How to say,
I’m sorry I did this again and I swear it won’t happen….

Yeah, he’d made that promise before.

Despair filled his veins as he pulled up to the house. The lack of a car in the driveway surprised him as he parked there instead. The dash clock said six; they should all be home by now.

Lights were on. He could hear the television through the open front windows as he fumbled his keys in the lock.

Kent and Danny were sitting on the couch, Elizabeth in a side chair on her phone.

“Hi, Daddy!” she said, giving him a half smile and a little wave.

“Hey. Kent, how are you doing?”

Ever polite, Kent stood up and nodded. “Hi, Mr. Cerelli.”

“I assume Miranda….”

“Yes, Miranda to the rescue.”

His eldest daughter appeared, a soda in her hand. “Dinner’s in, like, ten minutes. You want anything to drink?”

“No, thanks.” Evan went through his routine—plug in his phone, take off his jacket. The living room occupants were pretending not to watch him, and Miranda went to sit on the couch’s arm, next to Kent.

“Is, uh, is Matt home?” he asked, as casually as he could manage.

“Oh, sorry—that’s the message I forgot to give you. He said he was staying up at Jim and Griffin’s tonight,” Miranda said blandly.

Evan’s heart did a little jump. “Right. Did he mention how things were going?”

Miranda pulled her attention from the television. “No. Just said he’d be in touch.”

D
INNER
WAS
chatty, mostly due to Miranda taking control of the conversation. She kept the younger ones entertained and responsive while Evan ate his food mechanically.

Even this felt like a nasty rerun.

“So Daddy—since Matt has to be away tonight, do you need me to stay over and watch the kids?”

Evan pulled away from his little black rain cloud and looked over at her. For a second Sherri was sitting in that chair, half frowning at his distance.

“We can handle it,” Danny said before he could speak. “Jeez, we’re not babies.”

“You can’t drive yourself anywhere,” Evan finally said. “I don’t want you to miss work, Miranda.”

She shrugged. “I checked with them just in case. I can work from home—or here, as the case may be. Is it okay for you to take the train?”

“Sure. Thank you for offering.”

Miranda looked pleased at that, sharing a look with Kent. “Like I told Matt, I’m used to this sort of thing.”

The food got unappetizing after that.

H
E
PUT
Miranda and Kent in Katie’s room for the night, unable to muster any sort of sternness about sex in his house. He figured fear of Katie finding out would put a damper on amorous activities.

Unable to go to bed without talking to Matt, he grabbed his phone and locked himself in Matt’s office at the back of the house.

This was the center of his business—the neat files and stacks of blueprints, cameras in boxes, and endless pictures of locations they’d worked on. Evan knew a similar setup lived in Jim’s office.

He knew they billed more and more each month. He knew Matt worked so hard on this business, put so much energy into having a career that mattered, that he felt pride in.

A career Evan had dismissed this morning before he walked out the door.

Evan dialed Matt’s number, still not sure what he was going to say when Matt picked up. Fortunately—unfortunately—he never needed to come up with anything. Matt never answered.

“W
ELL
,
THIS
is some bullshit,” Jim said, pouring Matt another cup of coffee. It was four in the morning and no one had had any actual sleep for a full two days—except Sadie, of course, who didn’t understand why no one had the energy to play with her.

They split shifts with Sadie, leaving Griffin as much time as possible to deal with the heartbroken Daisy.

No one looked good and no one had any idea how to fix this giant pile of shit.

“You should get some sleep.” Matt poured an ungodly amount of sugar into the lead he was currently serving. “That baby’s going to be up in about two hours.”

Jim settled into the other kitchen chair, shaking his head. “I can’t sleep. Between this drama and the rest of it, I close my eyes and everything starts playing like a Technicolor musical.”

“You need to call the cops in Ashland.”

“I will.”

Matt sighed as he leaned his elbows on the table. He wanted a hot shower and ten hours of sleep, and he wanted to talk to Evan without needing to yell. He wasn’t at that point yet.

He didn’t know how to get to that point.

“If you’re not going to sleep, then go to the office, package everything up, and send it off. Because we have other things to worry about right now.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “While I am sorry for what Daisy is going through, it doesn’t compare to a fucking murder investigation.”

“Agreed, but you are retired, and even if you weren’t, that shit is out of your jurisdiction,” Matt snapped back. “We had a deal.”

“And I will follow that deal, as soon as I get a moment to think.” Jim got up, grabbing his coffee cup as he went. “You need to fight with someone, call your goddamn boyfriend.”

He left out the back door, stalking toward the garage office. Matt watched him go with tired eyes.

Four missed calls from Evan. No messages. No texts. Matt didn’t have a clue what that meant, and it certainly didn’t help him figure out how not to be so pissed off.

H
E
GOT
a few hours of sleep on the couch before noise in the kitchen woke him. Griffin had Sadie on one hip and a phone tucked against his ear as he attempted to navigate pouring milk into a cup.

“Yeah, no, I don’t know.” Griffin looked up and saw Matt in the doorway, a desperate expression coming across his face.

Matt went for the milk, since the little girl was just giving him a suspicious glare.

Thank you
, Griffin mouthed before continuing the phone conversation. “Have you talked to the a-s-s-h-o-l-e today?”