All Apologies // Nirvana

From all the way across the room I can see the tension on Matt's face. He's talking with some guy and nodding along with whatever the guy is saying. I have no idea what they're talking about but it's obvious that Matt isn't interested.

I've been watching him all morning. My family sat in the back, but I decided to sit in the second row, right behind his family. We were early enough that I was able to take that seat. I insisted we get there with enough time that I could talk to Matt, but I couldn't find him before the service.

When he walked in with his hand guiding his mom and Mark trailing behind, I started to cry. He's so broken. It was written all over his face. Shelly still looks vacant. In a daze. Mark kept his head down and hasn't really made eye contact with anyone. Even now, I scan the room for him but he's not in sight. I'll check on him soon. Someone needs to.

Matt is swirling a cup in his hand, still talking with the same guy. I wonder if he knew it was my hand on his shoulder earlier. I had to show him that I'm here for him. I wonder if he could feel the love I was trying to send his way. He never turned around, even after he pulled away from my touch. My heart soared when he first leaned into me. As if he was taking comfort from me again. But then he tore away, as though I'd burned him.

The feeling of rejection washes over me again at the memory, the exact moment Matt looks across the room. His eyes find mine. I hold my breath, hoping. Praying he'll look happy to see me. That he'll say with his eyes what I'm longing to hear from his lips. That he loves me. That he needs me. That he misses me.

That we'll be okay.

It's not what I see at all when our gazes lock. I see pain. I see regret. And then I see nothing because he looks away. I turn from my spot and walk to the hallway. I can't breathe in here. I don't stop when I'm in the shelter of the hall but continue until I find the doorway to the courtyard. There's a fountain and a garden. A few people are mingling out here, talking in a higher volume than the hushed tones of the indoor reception. Something about a funeral necessitates quiet voices at all times. Reverence. But out here I am able to take a deep breath, telling myself Matt needs to grieve in his own way, in his own time. I resolve to be there for him in whatever way he needs. And right now, he needs space. I can do that. I don't have to go psycho Hannah, obsessing over every signal he's sending. These aren't secret messages to me. It's just how he's grieving right now, and I need to remember that.

I find a bench near the fountain. It's peaceful in this courtyard which I feel anything but. A few other guests are out here but I avoid them. I look at the flowers and the butterflies fluttering nearby. I listen to the water splashing in the base of the fountain. But the tension remains.

"What's up?" Pete sits down next to me, arm spreading across the back of the bench. He's sipping from an energy drink like this is a casual picnic and not a memorial reception for Matt's dead father.

"Just taking a break. Where'd you get that?" I nod toward his drink. "All I saw was punch and tea."

Pete shrugs. "Brought my own supply. I needed the fuel. Late night last night."

My heartrate spikes. I wonder if Matt hung out with Pete and partied. I hate asking because it feels like spying on him, but I don't know what's going on so what choice do I have?

"Who was out with you?" I bite the inside of my cheek after asking.

Pete side-eyes me. "Why? You checking up on me? Did Kyra ask what I was up to?"

Whoa. That escalated quickly. "Nope. Not even a little bit. But now that you mention her, what the hell is going on between you two? She's mooning and you know it."

Pete takes a huge gulp of his drink then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Shit. I had to open my big mouth." He takes a deep breath. "Nothing is going on between us except a momentary lapse of judgement."

"Not what it looked like to me." I confess. That's not what it sounded like, either. Not after Kyra's description of their kiss. It's interesting that Pete jumped right to my connection with Kyra and not the more obvious connection I have with Matt. Makes me wonder how that kiss affected him, and if he's really as casual about it as he's trying to portray.

"Whatever." He runs his free hand through his hair then takes a big gulp of his drink. "Why are you out here and not hanging on Matt's arm?"

"Are you serious right now?"

"Um...yeah? You're his girlfriend. This is his dad's funeral. Why aren't you with him?" Pete looks at me like I'm the crazy one.

"Honestly, he has shut me down at every turn. I think he needs some space to process all of this right now." I turn to give Pete a look. "And you're his best friend. So why aren't you checking up on him?"

Pete scoffs. "That's what happens when you have it out over a girl. Shit changes real fast, no matter how it all ends up." He mumbles something else I can't decipher.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Just a hard lesson to learn that I never want repeated. Therefore...choices."

As if that makes any sense, Pete salutes me and rises from our spot on the bench. "Go talk to him. You and Jeff are probably the only real support he's got." With that, he turns and leaves the courtyard completely, heading to the parking lot. I guess he's done paying his respects.

I hesitate for a minute, wondering if just offering my quiet presence could possibly be enough. But I realize it will have to be because that's all I can offer him at this point. I stand up but before I can head back into the main room a man approaches and speaks to me.

"Are you related to Mike? I saw you sitting with his family?"

"Oh, no. I'm dating his son, Matt."

The man nods. "Mike was my boss. I'm a foreman for the company. Great guy."

I swallow, not feeling the "great guy" comment at all but also not wanting to speak poorly of the man now that he's gone. What this guy thinks of Matt's dad doesn't really matter.

"I didn't really know him well." I admit.

"He talked about Matt and Mark all the time. How he loved having boys. Sounds like they had a close relationship. Our line of work is challenging because of the time away from home but Mike always made it look easy."

I want to laugh. Is that how he made it seem? Easy? I guess being gone was easy because when he was home it was a total shit show.

The guy doesn't take my silence as a hint to stop talking.

"Mike told me this one story, how he'd had to take two flights and a train to make it back home to one of Matt's games because his direct flight got cancelled." The guy laughs again. "That's dedication."

Now I want to be sick. What kind of lies was Mr. McKinley telling? I realize there's no way I can listen to anything else so I smile and make my excuses. Then I make a direct line to Matt. I find him walking toward me when I open the door.

"There you are," I say. My smile for him is genuine. I don't want to worry about us anymore. I only want to support him.

"Let's go back outside, okay? I need to talk to you."

My stomach revolts at his tone. Instinctively I know this isn't good. But I don't have a choice, so I follow him back to the garden, past the man who believes the best about Matt's dad, and right back to the bench where I had just been sitting.

Matt doesn't speak right away. I don't either. When he does, I wish he had just remained silent.

"I don't think we should spend time together."

It takes a minute for his words to sink in. "Today? This week? Until you get back to school?" I need clarification because what I think he's implying can't be reality.

"Indefinitely."

I don't say anything in response. Instead, I study Matt. I replay his words in my head. He's not directly breaking up with me. Not exactly. But his cold demeanor, his closed off body language, sends a different message. He's certainly pushing me away, shooing me home like a friend he's done playing with. It's a temper tantrum he's throwing and I'm the collateral damage.

"Is that all?" I ask because I don't want to give him a response. Matt's grief is talking right now, and I don't want to make it worse than it already is.

He nods, his mouth in a grim line of tension. "Pretty much, yeah."

I nod as well. "Okay then." I stand and brush my hands on my skirt, a pathetic attempt tobrush off my emotions. "I guess I better get going."

"Wait. That's it?" Matt sounds shocked.

"What do you want me to do? Scream and cry? You're kind of a mess right now, Matt. I don't think anything I say will solve that. So instead, I'm going to tell my family to take me home. I'm going to eat a gallon of ice cream with Kyra and binge watch true crime documentaries."

Matt opens his mouth but closes it almost immediately. I take that as my cue our talk is over, so I follow through with my promise. I walk away without looking back. I find my parents on the other side of the room, standing together and talking quietly. Their care and concern for Matt, for his loss, for his family, is exactly what he needs. The way I want to help him through this, standing alongside him, is as well. But he's thrown that back at us. I'm off balance and nauseous at the thoughts in my head. The moment I reach my mom, she sees my face and wraps me up in her arms. Before I let all of the emotion out, I ask my family to leave. We give Shelly one last word of condolence and then my parents usher me out the door.

My mom knows my needs even before I do, climbing into the back seat with me instead of her usual spot up front. My dad starts the car, pulling out of the lot without speaking a word. But the second we are around the corner, my mom huddles next to me, whispering, "Oh, honey." The tears spill over as I sob. It's too much. I feel all of this too deeply, stronger than I can deal with.

Indefinitely.

If he said he just needed space, I could deal. But what he did is try to close the entire door to our relationship because he is afraid. This isn't grief, not entirely. This is so much deeper. A generational legacy of pain and rejection. I'm heartbroken. I want to drown my sorrows in sugar and cream.

The second promise I keep is calling Kyra. She doesn't waste a second coming to my rescue. She even brings battle supplies. An enormous grocery bag full of ice cream and toppings. We gorge ourselves on the treats and binge crime shows just like I knew we would. I don't even imagine the victim with Matt's face because I know deep in my heart that he's not really himself right now. I wish I knew when the guy I loved would return. Instead of thinking about him, I swallow more sugar. But a gallon of brownie fudge is no cure for a broken heart. It just gives you a stomachache.

Ok, this one was tough. We're in what we call the long dark night phase of the romance. As a reader, I dread this part. As a writer... I dread this part. Now I've got to work them through all of it!! But I have the rest of the story well planned, very unusual for me, so there is hope!

Any thoughts or concerns? Let me know because your feedback truly does help me revise the story and makes everything so much stronger!! Thank you!!

My song choice is strange. I used Nirvana for Matt several times in More Than This and I like the crossover of using the same songs for a different phase of his life. This song is really from his POV even thought the chapter is in Hannah's

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News about Broken Lullaby's release is coming soon!!