His Secret

9. Matías

CHAPTER NINE

MATíAS

Luckily for me, Wednesday and Thursday don’t include any sightings of Adrian. At least not at work. He’s been home both days, moving stuff into the house and meeting other neighbors. I only know because I’ve seen him each time I’ve driven in or out of the garage.

But now it’s Friday morning, and the day he was scheduled to initially start, so with every footstep that approaches my door, I expect it to be him coming to talk to me. When I venture out to go to another floor for a meeting, I think I’ll run into him.

It isn’t until lunch time, when I’m heading toward the elevators, that he finally corners me.

“Hey.”

I look over and find him in a nice, black suit. “Hey.”

The doors open, and the two of us walk in. I press L and he leans in the corner. “Getting lunch?”

“It is lunchtime,” I reply.

“Maybe you’ll let me join you,” he asks, a little timidly. “You can fill me in on all the good places to eat.”

“You lived here before.”

“It’s been eight years.”

“I’m aware,” I say.

“Some places aren’t here anymore, and there’s a lot of new businesses.”

The doors open and one of the guys waiting outside nods to me. “Mr. Cruz.”

I dip my chin and give him a small grin as a greeting. Adrian follows behind me.

“What about that pizza diner?”

I know exactly what he’s talking about, and I’m not sure why he’d bring up the place we often went to together. Is he trying to torture me?

“No. It’s too far from the business district, and I have to be back in”—I look at my watch for the time—“seventy minutes for a meeting.”

He snorts. “Okay, fine. Where are you going?”

“There’s a bistro a block and a half away.”

“Okay.”

He falls into step with me.

“I see you’ve invited yourself.”

“If you really don’t want me around, I’ll leave,” he says, sounding somewhat dejected. “But I really want a chance to talk to you.”

I sigh, but don’t say anything, and my silence is permission for him to join. We walk without saying a word until we’re at the restaurant and ordering our Thai food.

We sit at a two seater table next to a black wall and surrounded by a lot of chattering customers.

While we wait for our food to arrive, he speaks up.

“I’m sorry for how I handled everything back then. I’d like to say I was just young and afraid, but?—”

“But you’re still an uncaring asshole? ”

His head drops to the side as he gives me a look. “It was much more than that, Matías. I told you about my family.”

I take a sip of my water. “There are things that are understandable, and there are things that are unforgivable.”

“You don’t think you can forgive me?” he questions with sadness in his voice.

“You know, people say forgiveness is for the forgiver, but I don’t agree. You want my forgiveness so you can move on without guilt, but forgiving you gives me nothing. It doesn't erase my memory. It doesn’t fill a void. It doesn’t take us back to the past to figure out another way to do things. Forgiveness is for the guilty party, not for the wronged, and I no longer subscribe to catering to those who’ve hurt me. Like I said, you did exactly what you meant to and wanted, and my feelings were not a concern. I have to live with that and so do you.”

The waiter appears with our plates and quickly disappears.

“I understand it was a long time ago. You’re married,” I say, struggling to keep the disbelief out of my voice. “We’ve moved on. I can have a working relationship with you because I’m an adult, but if you think we can be friends again, you’re wrong. It cannot happen. Lunches like this will not happen again.”

He watches me, his expression giving away his shock. He must’ve expected the Matías from college. Not the Matías I’ve grown into.

“It won’t happen again.”

His words aren’t a statement of finality, but more a repetition of what I said to see if he heard clearly.

“So, have you talked to Mrs. O?—”

He holds up a hand, cutting me off. “You don’t want to be friends? ”

I hold his gaze as I put my chopsticks down. “I definitely don’t want to be friends.” My eyes roam his face, neck, and any other available spot I can see. “We could never just be friends , and you know that.”

He swallows, his cheeks turning the lightest shade of pink. “I thought it was because you were mad.”

“Oh, I am,” I say, turning my attention back on my food. “I’m not afraid to admit I’m a grudge holder, but what happened between us wasn’t some petty, childish drama. It affected me, Adrian. It’s the reason I approach relationships the way that I do, but you aren’t just anyone, are you? So, we cannot be friends, because it wouldn’t be just that.”

His head dips imperceptibly before he reaches for his water, and the rest of our lunch remains relatively quiet minus a few work-related topics.

When the check is placed on the table, we both reach for it but I get to it first, his fingers landing on mine.

Our eyes meet and my chest grows warm. He pulls away slowly.

The walk back to the building is uncomfortably tense. The elevator ride even more so, because once again, he had to open his mouth.

“What I felt for you was real, Matías. I’ve never experienced anything like it. I was honest with you about my feelings. I told you things I’ve never told anyone. You are the keeper of my secrets, and I appreciate that more than you know. Not once in all these years have I forgotten about you. You showed me true happiness, and a love…” His voice shakes and I close my eyes. “A love I didn’t deserve. I only hope that even though I broke your heart, you still remember some of the good times we had. And I hope that I gave you a fraction of what you gave me.”

The elevator doors part, and he walks past me and into the hall.