(Complete)Heart broken Matthew Clark travels across the sea to heal. When he meets a stranger on his flight, he makes her his muse and says goodbye, only knowing her first name. It would be an amazing love story, if they met again.
When Lily Taylor...
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For three days, Matthew did very little but pace, toss and turn, and mope. He didn't cry, because that was not something he did. Clark men cried on the inside. He resisted the urge to call anyone, even Millie. He had calls and texts from both Penelope and Neill. Maybe if she hadn't run to tell Neill, he might forgive her. It felt like they were in this charade together. It was them against him. He hid, mortified and embarrassed.
Only Astara and Roman kept his mind off his spiralling life. Unfortunately, they let him down too, because when he read what he had written, it was rubbish. Especially when they kissed and fondled each other (they were too young for sex) behind a shrub with a monster chasing after them. He could hear Kendall's response if she ever saw those pages. She'd tell him to get his Gen Z ass out of the pub and stay sober. She didn't care about his privilege and connections, only the words he produced.
The only time he left his flat was to go to the gym. Even then, he had to be careful to ensure he didn't run into the wanker. The middle of the day was best when normal people were toiling in their offices or the middle of the night when the only people at the twenty-four-seven gym were heartbroken insomniacs like him.
He laid on his bed with two pillows over his head, trying to drown out the knocking on his door. He could hear her voice, but not her words. Had she always sounded so high pitched, or was it just his headache? He had a constant throbbing in his head. If it weren't for his lack of sleep and constant consumption of alcohol to keep the edge off, he would fear a brain tumor.
She stopped by once a day and so far he had kept his resolve not to let her in. Matthew honestly didn't know what he feared the most about seeing her, his anger, or the risk of giving in. He didn't worry he would hurt her, because he would never touch a girl in a harmful way. He was confident, because he never laid a finger on Martha when she irked him through the years. It was the giving in and forgiving her he feared. In the dark of the night, he ran through reconciliations in his mind. Each one included her promising to be faithful. How could he trust her, ever? The darkness also brought on other thoughts. What if it was more than a kiss? What if they had sex? What if a million things that were eating his insides?
On Sunday morning, after a week of hell, he couldn't stay in his flat any longer. Matthew wanted to go home to his family. He needed his mum. She worried about him. Penelope had contacted her, but from his mother's messages, she hadn't told the truth.
He didn't call to let his mum know he was coming. Instead, he packed enough to stay. The flat was full of memories of Pen. The boot of his mini was full when he set out for the Surrey countryside. He didn't bother to knock on the door of the renovated church. It was his home, and he walked in, calling out to his parents.
His Mum appeared first. She wore an apron which was a telltale sign something delicious was cooking.
"Oh, dearest." She opened her arms, and he walked right into them. She smelled like a combination of his mum's scent and garlic, but to him, it was the scent of love. No one loved him like his mum. His dad's love was different. "I've been worried."
