Fuck. That grey puff of smoke follows him everywhere. The scent of cigarettes sticks everywhere, and it always reminds me of him.
But it's not him.
I haven't seen him in six years, but a simple puff of smoke on the London streets takes me back to t...
He pulls away from me and leaves a gentle kiss on my forehead. He looks me in the eyes, as he fixes my hair. He pushes some of my hair behind my ears and says with a smile, "just wanna get a better look at ya." I flash him the biggest, overdone smile and say "how's this?"
"Perfect," he says. "Always so fuckin' perfect." I lean in and give him another quick peck, and then suggest we eat. Like a true gentleman he leads me to the table, and pulls out my chair like we are at the nicest resturaunt in London. I laugh and say "thank you, you're too kind."
The table setting is accross from me, but he sits in the chair right next to mine, and grabs his plate and drags it over so he can sit next to me. "Not letting you go anytime soon, I just gotcha back come on, you tought I was leaving your side again?" He says to me.
We start eating, I grab my coffee and take a sip to find that he made it just how I like it, a splash of milk, no sugar. Of course he remembers. "Plain black coffee with a pinch of sugar?" I ask him. "You know me too well," he says with a wink.
"I wanna know everything," he says to me. I give him a confusing look. "You know, all that I missed during my... let's say hiatus." "Wow, gosh I don't even know where to start," I say.
"Uhm, well. I guess I'll go chronologically. I finished up school and then went to University of Greenwich. There I studied Communications and Management." He nods, showing he cares. "I graduated Uni in three years, so in 2021 and was hired at Montgomery, but after graduation I had to head home for a while before starting my job." I finish.
"Why'd you go home?" He asks. I give him a surprised look. There's no way he hasn't heard, someone surely told him, at least I figured his family would. "My Dad," I say, while trying to hold together. Matty's face drops, "your Dad, what the hell are you talking about?" He asks."I thought you would've heard, I- I'm sorry Matty. My Dad, um, he passed away two years ago," I say with tears filling in my eyes. It's been years and I still have trouble saying It.
Matty and my Dad had a really good relationship. I was his only child, and he bascially took Matty in as his son. They would spend evenings together at football games, my Dad taught him how to shave, they always loved to cook together on Sunday nights. I can't believe Matty didn't know.
He doesn't say anything for a long time, he puts his fork down on the table and stares straight ahead. I see tears run down his face. I don't know how to help him, or how to make him feel better, because I'm still working through it myself. I hug him from the side. He chokes out, "I'm so sorry Luna, God I'm so fucking sorry. Why? How? I can't even beleive it."
"Brain cancer. He only found out about two months before... before he passed." I say. He continues crying. "He didn't tell anyone but my Mom, I had no idea either up until the last week. My Mom called and said to come home, that Dad was sick. He had been fine at graduation just four months before," I explain. "I get there and hospice has taken over the house. My Mom explains everything to me, and you know what I do." I ask Matty. He turns to face me, both of us with tears. "I leave. I fucking leave," I say
"I was so angry, they didn't tell me, I left. I went on a drive and went to a pub. My Dad was fucking dying and I went to blackout. What the fuck. I come home the next day, and my Dad ended up being sedated and intubated overnight. I never got to talk to him again."
"Luna," Matty says. "No. Serisously stop. Don't tell me it's okay, or that it's not my fault. Cause it is. I should've been there." I reply.
"Okay." Matty says and pulls me into a hug. "I can just be here with you." I hold him just as tight, knowing he's got to be hurting just as much, and this is so new and shocking to him.
"He died about four days later. I was holding his hand, and my Mom was laying next to him. It was peaceful." I say quietly. "My Mom and I cried for days, stuck in some alternative reality where it didn't quite feel real yet."
"The funeral was the worst of all. Hearing everyone tell stories about him and talk about him in past tense fucking killed me. I thought it couldn't get worse, but when I went up to speak I looked to the crowd," I say sniffling. "And I, I didn't see you."
Matty is physically pained by this, he shuts his eyes, and breathes heavily. His whole body seems to shrink, and I feel terrible. Maybe I shouldn't said anything, it's in the past, he didn't need to know about the funeral.
"I'm so fucking sorry. I don't even know what to say. I was off in Manchester fucking around, and you were going through this. I had no idea. Fucks sake, if I knew I would've taken the first train back. I'm so sorry, so so fucking sorry." He says.
"I know. I know you would," I say. We hold each other for what feels like hours, just trying to absorb the other's pain. "If I could," he says, "I would take this all away from you. All this pain you went through alone." I just nod, it's all I can manage.
"Can I go get something to show you?" Matty asks me. "Of course," I say back. He gets up, and wanders down the fall. I hear some shuffling and drawers opening and closing, when he reappears with a small tin box.
He sits back down next to me and opens it up. Inside there is a purple guitar pick that says "Matty" and a small white piece of paper. "Um, this is from your Dad," he says, struggling to get the words out. "He gave this to me when we went to the Rolling Stones concert, you know when you got the flu and couldn't use your ticket." I smile at the sweet memory. I open up the note, and my heart swells at the appearance of my Dad's familiar script.
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I hold onto the small slip, and press it to my chest, just to feel close to my Dad. It's been so long since I've seen something he wrote or had at one point, that I hadnt before. "Thank you for showing me this," I say. "I really miss him" I say.
"I'm gonna miss him a lot too," Matty replies.
I start to lean in to kiss him, not knowing a better way to express my gratitude, but as I'm about to meet his lips, there's a loud knock on the door.
