17 - Matthew

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Matthew

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Matthew

Jessica ordered burritos. Turns out, choosing which wrapping paper was perfect for Miles' gift took almost an hour. It would've been easier had she not brought fifty different wrapping papers. He and Miles had to vote which was more fitting (they voted yes in every single one, by the way) but she voted no on all forty-nine of them. He's starting to feel they should've let her choose herself. And he couldn't help but notice the look she gave him when he ordered a vegetable burrito while she and Miles ordered beef.

As he unwraps the tinfoil and took a careful bite, he stares at her who has Miles on her lap while they eat messily. He thought if he stared enough on her forehead, he might know what she was thinking. He wanted to say there was salsa on her cheek, but as a payback for giving him "that look" earlier when he only preferred vegetable burrito, he didn't.

She eats like a kindergartener.

His phone rings.

He took it out of his pocket and froze. The Spanish rice turned stale in his tongue. He stared at the name across his cellphone screen. His heart dribbled in his chest. He knew this was coming. She'll find out he's in town eventually. And every time that he was, she'll insist they grab coffee or dinner to catch up. Every millisecond is an innocent reunion on her part, and it was torture on his.

She sits across from him, all perfect smiles and hearty laughs, making him believe that it still wasn't too late. And then she'd tuck a hair behind her ear and then the ring on her finger will sparkle sharply.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" Jessica stirred him out of his thoughts.

The phone stopped ringing. He didn't waste another second and turned the silent mode on. He will call her back. Maybe when he had his rambled thoughts sorted out.

"It's okay. It just went to voicemail."

She nods then proceed to take a large bite of her burrito. She still hasn't figured she has salsa on her cheek.

"You have a," he hesitated.

Jessica stopped chewing, her cheeks bulging a little trying to contain all that food. "Hmm?"

"Salsa. You have a little salsa on your cheek."

Miles lifted himself off her lap to examine her face.

Her eyes widened, still looking like a chipmunk. She tries to swipe a hand over her cheeks, missing the spot.

Matthew sighs. He grabbed a napkin on the coffee table and leaned all the way. "Hold still." He wipes the salsa off the spot she kept missing.

He meets her eyes.

They were grass green.

There were little freckles on her cheeks.

He hadn't noticed them before.

Matthew sat back down the sofa. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand and chewed. She raised her other hand and did a thumbs up.

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