Chapter Text
“You always said you’d have your name on a building one day.”
Matt Sanders paused where he was, underneath a Toyota Camry, grease smeared over his cheek, his fingers blackened as he wound a lug nut back on, wrench to his left, his back cushioned by a small board on wheels.
Seconds slowly ticked by as the realization of who the voice belonged to dawned on him.
And he just wasn’t ready to face it.
The lug nut slipped from his fingers and bounced off his chin, hitting the concrete floor of the garage with a soft tink, and then rolled away. It sounded hollow to Matt’s ears; the sound almost insignificant compared to the blood rushing through his ears.
The voice was one he hadn’t heard in a decade, one that he’d tried so hard to block from his mind. A lot of good and bad times were associated with that voice, and despite the time that had passed, it was as if it had only been a second, instead of ten years.
“Sanders?”
Matt swallowed thickly, and pressed his eyes shut tightly. He knew he had no choice; he couldn’t very well lay underneath the Camry until the voice went away, but the idea of facing what waited for him in the garage was an even bigger decision he didn’t want to face.
Because Matt had moved on – or so he thought – and the idea of going back to when he was nineteen felt impossible, because he’d closed that chapter on his life, and it had been the hardest thing he’d ever done.
It was how he’d managed to cope, to think of his life in chapters, instead of one big blur. It was easier to close chapters than it was to actually delve into the deep recess of his mind where all his fears lay, raw and exposed.
He swallowed again, and slowly used his feet to roll the small board out from underneath the car, the late afternoon sun blinding him, and shrouding his visitor in a golden halo. He couldn’t see their face, but there was no denying that voice.
“Do you need to book your car in?” Matt asked, and was proud that his voice didn’t shake.
Brian Haner laughed, one hip cocked, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. “Nice to see you too.”
Mat picked himself up off the floor, blinking away the bright spots of light that clouded his vision. He wiped his greasy fingers down the front of his aging Metallica tank top, and busied himself with putting his tools back in the chest to the right of the car.
“Dad mentioned you bought this place last year,” Brian said conversationally. “I thought I’d come and see it for myself.”
Matt nodded his head. “Yeah, it’s mine. Over inflated mortgage and climbing interest rates and all.”
Matt chanced a look at Brian, now that his vision had cleared, and he felt his heart clench painfully in his chest. He looked like a soldier, despite standing there so casually, his spine ramrod straight, his hair still shorn close to his head in the back.
That was the last time Matt had seen him, the day he got deployed for basic training. They’d both been scared nineteen-year-olds, on the tail end of one of the most horrific moments of their young lives, and Matt had stood there at the airport, beside Brian in his fatigues, and fought the urge to ask him to stay.
Because technically, Matt was supposed to go too.
They’d made the decision at two in the morning, a few days into a new year that Matt couldn’t quite remember. They’d been drunk at the local park, laid out on their backs, staring up at the sky in mutual, pained silence.
Brian had reached for Matt’s hand, his fingers fitting between Matt’s like they belonged together.
We have to get out of here.
Matt had agreed, because the idea of being anywhere but Huntington Beach had sounded so perfect, that leaving all the devastation and hurt behind and starting over somewhere else, the east coast, Canada, even the Middle East. Anywhere sounded better than home, after the loss and pain they’d been through.
We should enlist.
Matt had agreed by squeezing Brian’s hand, but he’d stumbled home that night to find her in his room, mascara running down her cheeks and holding onto his favourite stuffed animal.
She’d started to cry when he told her his plan, and she’d begged him.
Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t leave me.
So, he hadn’t.
And he had to watch Brian’s face twist into a look of pain when he’d told him, that he was staying because his girlfriend had asked him to. That he wasn’t going with Brian, even though he was in love with him.
So that had been it, and Matt had closed the Brian chapter. He left for basic training, and it was as if he’d fallen off the face of the earth. Of course, their parents still talked, and Brian’s stepmom was like a second mother to him, but after a few months, it was just too hard.
Matt had to move on, and he couldn’t hear about how great Brian was doing, how his first tour was coming up, how he’d made lifelong friends.
Not when Matt felt stagnant, that he’d stayed for her, and moved in with her, and eventually proposed. His life had stopped, and Brian’s had carried on.
The self-awareness had come not long after he turned twenty-two. Because for whatever reason, Matt always missed him on his birthday. He’d known Brian for almost ten birthdays, before he left, and it was almost unnatural not to celebrate Brian’s on the seventh of July, and then his on the thirty-first.
And thinking of Brian, meant thinking of Jimmy, and there was nothing else on earth that hurt more, than the realization that Jimmy was never coming back.
There wouldn’t be any more birthdays, he’d never get married, have kids, move to Alaska to raise dogs. No, Jimmy was gone, taken way too soon, and the knowledge of that had sat heavily in Matt’s gut since he’d received the phone call a few days after Christmas, that Jimmy was gone.
Accidental overdose.
It seemed too arbitrary, an accidental overdose. Like Jimmy had taken three Tylenol instead of two, that washing them down with scotch had been enough to end his life.
But in reality, it was a handful of something small and white, a substance never identified by Jimmy’s family, and a half a bottle of Jack Daniels. It didn’t sound so accidental, but Matt had already fallen down that hole a few times, and he knew that if he didn’t catch himself, an accidental overdose would start to sound like a viable option for himself.
It was thoughts like that that he wished Brian had been around to hear, that he had that one person he told everything to. But watching Brian get on that plane, had ended whatever it was they had, even if the love never went away.
“Do you want to get a beer tonight?”
“I’m married,” Matt blurted out, pulling a dirty rag out of his pocket to wipe his hands. “We got married, a year ago.”
Brian nodded, rocking back on the heels of his scuffed leather boots. “I know. Zack told me.”
Matt nodded.
“Does being married mean you can’t drink beer?”
“Being married means I can’t drink beer with you.”
“Ouch,” Brian said, his laughter weak. “We can go to an actual bar, you know?”
“Why’re you here?” Matt asked, throwing the rag down into his tool kit.
Brian pursed his lips, pulling a hand out his pocket to run his fingers through his hair. “I tore my ACL in Kandahar,” he explained. “After three months of rehab in Texas, they had an honourable discharge with my name on it, and mom and dad insisted on celebrating my 30th next month.”
Matt nodded his head. “Okay.”
“I should be mad at you,” Brian pointed out. “I don’t know where you get off being pissy with me.”
Matt narrowed his eyes and stared at Brian. “You’re the one who showed up after ten years without so much as a postcard.”
“You picked your girlfriend over me, what did you want me to do? Beg?”
Matt winced. “You…I couldn’t leave her.”
“But you could let me leave? You could leave me?”
Matt picked up a socket wrench and turned it over in his hands. “I…I can’t do this here,” he sighed. “I don’t want to do this at all.”
Brian dug into his pocket and pulled out a creased piece of paper. “I want you to have this.”
Matt looked dubiously at the paper in Brian’s hand, but ultimately took it. It was a creased photograph from when they were sixteen. Matt didn’t even know it had been taken, he was in Brian’s arms, his face turned into his neck, and they were laughing.
Someone had abandoned an old polaroid camera at one of Brian’s parties, and the grainy picture captured a moment that Matt still felt connected to.
He was happy.
Things with Brian had started a few months before the picture was taken, and it was the most anxiety inducing time of Matt’s life. Because he knew he shouldn’t have been looking at Brian like that, and he was forcing himself to stop, when Brian had caught him by the wrist one day in his parents’ garage, and kissed him.
And Matt had stopped breathing, ceased to live for those agonizing few seconds when Brian’s lips were on his, and it wasn’t until he was pulling away that Matt responded, reaching up to cup Brian’s cheeks and kissed him back hard, grabbing at him because he finally felt like he could breathe again, every nerve in his body on fire.
It was right, and it barely took any time at all for Matt to fall in love with him.
But Matt had a girlfriend.
At least, he thought he did.
Because she’d always been his best friend, and when they were fifteen, she’d kissed him and said be my boyfriend, okay? And Matt knew cheating was wrong, he knew that it would hurt her if she knew about Brian, but nothing ever felt as real with her, as it did with him.
“It was a dick move, showing up like this,” Brian relented, shoving his hand back in his pocket. “I just…I got in a cab and I didn’t even know I was coming here until I got here.”
Matt crushed his eyes shut, but was unable to clear the image of the polaroid from his mind. He was blind sighted and thrown off balance and he had a shit ton of work to do, and Brian being there wasn’t helping.
“I’ll go.”
“Meet me tonight,” Matt said quickly, opening his eyes. “For that beer.”
Brian hesitated, but nodded. “I’m staying with my parents. We could meet at Johnny’s?”
Matt swallowed. “Pick up some forties and meet me in the park, okay? Around eight?”
Brian nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
Matt extended the picture back towards him, but Brian shook his head.
“You keep it,” he said. “I’ll never forget it. We were so happy.”
Matt looked back at the picture and felt his heart ache again. “We were, yeah.”
Brian smiled. “Are you happy? Now?”
Matt thought he was.
Right up until Brian walked into his garage.
Because he had everything he wanted in life. A beautiful wife who really was his best friend, his business, his family, his friends. He was lucky, and grateful, but was he happy?
“Is anyone ever completely happy?”
Brian shrugged. “The people in that photo were.”
Matt swallowed thickly, and watched Brian turn and walk out of his garage.
**
Matt swallowed the gulp of water in his mouth, and paused as his stomach rolled and threatened to send it back up again. He leant heavily on the open door of the refrigerator, his vision blurring as he stared at a brightly coloured fridge magnet, the cold air drifting out to cool his legs.
“Honey, you’re letting all the cold air out.”
Matt blinked and put the pitcher of cold water back in the fridge and let the door swing shut, smiling guiltily at his wife.
“You’re spacing,” she accused playfully, swatting his hip as she edged around him to get to the sink. Their kitchen was barely big enough for the two of them, but it was home, it was theirs.
“Yeah, I just…had a tough day,” Matt answered vaguely, leaning up against the counter. “I’m going to go have a beer with Zack later.”
Lying to her was something he hadn’t done since he’d been with Brian. After he’d been deployed, Matt made a promise to himself, and to her, that he wasn’t going to lie anymore. He’d already cheated and deceived her and lied countless times, and if he was really going to build a life with her, he had to get his shit together.
“Good idea,” she smiled, stacking their dirty dishes into the skin. “I have some lesson prep I need to do before tomorrow.”
He always loved how she loved her job. Teaching third grade wasn’t the most glamorous job, but she loved her students as if they were her own, and spending a few hours at home a week on new and unique lesson plans was nothing new.
“Don’t drink and drive,” she cautioned. “Crash on his couch, or give me a call, I’ll come pick you up.”
He smiled and leant over to kiss her lips gently. “I promise,” he murmured. “I’ll let you know if I crash.”
“I’m sure Meghan will love that,” she teased. “Say hi to her if you see her, okay? We really do need to get together soon.”
Matt promised her he would, and used that moment to slip from the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. He shut the door and turned on the water and waited for the steam to consume the small room before stripping and getting in under the spray.
He planted his hands on the tiled wall and let his head fall forward under the water, easing the slight ache in his neck and cascading over his shoulders and down his chest. He tried to ease the feeling that continued to swirl in his gut, a feeling he hadn’t had in so long. The water did its best to burn him of his sins, but he knew – without even having to think – that the feeling that was rolling through him, was guilt.
**
It was a quarter past eight, and the park was silent.
Matt had been sitting in his car for almost twenty minutes, trying to muster up the courage to make a goddamn decision. He couldn’t identify the feelings running through him now, but the longer he sat and contemplated his actions, the sicker he felt.
The right thing to do would be to crank his key in the ignition and peal out of the gravel carpark and go home to his wife. Maybe make love to her, and agree to start trying for a baby. He needed to do the right thing, and that meant putting as much physical space between himself and Brian Haner as he could.
But even as his brain made that glaring observation, he found himself opening his door, and pushed it open enough to get out, letting the door slam shut with a dull thud before pocketing his keys to the aging truck.
There was part of Matt that hoped Brian wasn’t there, even as he crossed the short distance to the grassed area, identifying the playground that had been built a few years ago, and the path down to the duck pond. It was a nicer park than it ever had been when he was a kid, which was maybe the reason that he and his friends always ended up in the thicket of bushes, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes, Brian’s mom’s voice ringing out across the park when they stayed out too late.
It was a lot more family friendly, and Matt honestly hadn’t been back to the park – to their spot, in particular – since Brian had left.
The stark silence told him that there was no life left in the park, but Matt knew better. He could remember the familiar path to the low laying area, bordered by rocks and trees. He followed it on auto pilot, the toe of his sneaker skidding over some loose gravel before he steadied himself, and used his right arm to push a thick branch out of his way.
He ducked down and under it, before crouching a little and sliding downwards towards the left, letting out a curse when he skidded over a slick rock, catching himself before sliding down the small grassy embankment.
His eyes adjusted slowly to the almost pitch black of the trees, but he could’ve found the spot with his eyes closed. It only took a few more feet, and ducking beneath a few more branches until the thicket gave way to an almost ridiculous amount of space.
It was probably four-square meters of flat ground. It was mostly just dirt – or in some cases, mud – and Matt could remember all the times he’d shown up back at his parent’s house, covered in dirt and unable to really tell his mom why his new jeans always ended up with grass stains.
He let out a huffed breath, taking a few steps into the clearing, and was momentarily wounded at not seeing Brian.
But after a few tense seconds of silence, Matt could hear the sharp flick of his lighter, and saw the orange flame that accompanied it as he lit a cigarette.
“You’re late.”
Matt swallowed, brushing dirt off the thighs of his jeans. “I got home from work late,” he lied.
Brian nodded, pocketing his lighter and took a slow drag off his cigarette. “Thought you were standing me up.”
Matt shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, and dug his fingernails in the palms of his hands. “What are we even doing here?”
Brian was sitting on one of the low rocks that bordered the small clearing. He was dressed the same as he had been that afternoon, though he wore a hoodie to combat the cool evening breeze.
The only place for Matt to sit was beside Brian, unless he could take his chances on the ground, but after the sporadic rain the week before, it was mostly still soft underfoot, and Matt knew he had no way of explaining mud stains to his wife.
“What are we doing here?” Brian repeated, once Matt had settled on the rock beside him. “You suggested it.”
“I didn’t mean in the literal sense,” Matt bit out, feeling the apprehension start to gnaw at him.
“I’m having a cigarette,” Brian said simply, and reached beside him and produced a beer. “Want?”
Matt took the beer eagerly, and accepted Brian’s lighter so he could flick the bottle cap off of it. He took a long, slow pull, and hoped it would settle his nerves.
“Where does she think you are?”
Matt rested the bottle on his thigh. “What makes you think she doesn’t know?”
Brian laughed, and took another drag. “Because I don’t think she ever knew where you were, when you were with me.”
Matt shifted uncomfortably, the honesty hitting a little too close to home. “Then what does it matter?”
Brian shrugged a shoulder. “I guess it doesn’t.”
Matt took another mouthful of his beer, and let the silence drag between them.
Brian finished his cigarette, throwing it to the ground, and crushed it out with his boot.
Matt swallowed. “I told her about us.”
Brian raised an eyebrow.
“A year after you left,” Matt supplied. “I realized that if I was going to be a good boyfriend – and ultimately, a good husband – I had to be honest.”
“And how’d that work out for you?” Brian asked softly.
“She was upset, obviously,” Matt supplied, and wished he hadn’t said anything. Talking about his wife with the man he’d been in love with wasn’t something he ever should’ve bought up.
“But forgave you,” Brian finished.
Matt nodded. “I…I told her enough,” he mumbled.
“That we slept together?”
Matt swallowed. “Yeah.”
Brian turned his head to look at him, but his expression was unreadable. “That we were each other’s first?”
“Not…in so many words,” Matt said slowly. “That would’ve rubbed salt in the wounds.”
“So,” Brian said, turning a little more towards Matt. “You told her we fucked, that we were…what, exactly?”
Matt made a soft noise, and wished he could take it back. “I told her I was in love with you.”
Brian sucked in a sharp breath, but said nothing.
“That we had… been intimate,” Matt swallowed, the words feeling like they were stuck in his throat. “That I was supposed to enlist with you, but stayed for her.”
Brian winced. “I can’t see little miss being all too happy with the first part.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” Matt bit out, a frown forming on his face. “I treated her like garbage when I was with you, and despite all that, she didn’t kick my ass to the curb.”
Brian raised a hand in surrender.
“It was obvious you weren’t coming back, so I had to decide how I wanted my life to go,” Matt insisted, remembering the conversation so clearly in his mind. “She was devastated, and hurt, but knowing I stayed for her, helped.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Brian asked. “That it was obvious I wasn’t coming back?”
Matt opened his mouth, but didn’t know how to answer.
“Are you saying if I had come back, we would’ve been together?”
“No,” Matt said quickly, shaking his head. “I don’t know. You fucking left, and the stupid part of me thought about what would happen if you came back.”
Brian stood, and pulled another cigarette from the crumpled packet in his pocket. “Say I came back,” he said, sliding the filter between his lips, and lit the cigarette, taking a sharp inhale. “What would’ve happened?”
“No,” Matt said, shaking his head. “I’m not playing some hypothetical game with you. You didn’t come back, so I moved on. Chapter closed.”
“Oh, chapter closed?” Brian snorted, exhaling smoke from his nose. “If I came back,” he pushed again. “What would’ve happened?”
Matt looked up at him, and could see the harsh frown on Brian’s face in the low light. “How is this going to help either of us?” he asked weakly. “You didn’t come back.”
“I did come back.”
“Bull-fucking-shit,” Matt snorted. “If you did, it sure as hell wasn’t to see me.”
“You stupid son of a bitch,” Brian sighed, tilting his head back and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “After basic training in Texas, I could’ve stayed on base until my first deployment, which was about ten days after training finished. They gave everyone the option to head home, for a bit, so I did.”
“Brian, if you came back to Huntington Beach, it wasn’t for me,” Matt said flatly.
“Yes, it was,” Brian countered, taking another drag. “I called Zack, he said you were all grabbing a beer at Johnny’s, so I showed up.” He paused, exhaling. “I got to the door, pushed it open and I saw you.”
“I didn’t see you,” Matt said softly.
“I saw you with her, and you were happy, Matt,” Brian said, his words soft, his tone fragile. “It took you ten weeks to get over me, while I was still so fucking in love with you.”
Matt swallowed, and let his memories take him back. He could remember how bad those first few weeks had been, after Brian had left. His anger had been off the charts, and he’d lost count of the times he’d bitten her head off, or gotten into a screaming match with his father. He could remember putting his hand through a wall in the garage, and the ensuing lecture from his mother that came with it.
Accepting that Brian had left – and wasn’t coming back – was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
“So I cut my time at home short, made up some lame excuse about getting back to base, and I forced myself to move on.”
“You could’ve talked to me,” Matt insisted, the realization that they maybe would’ve had a second chance cutting through him like a knife.
“Yeah?” Brian asked, throwing his cigarette to the ground. “Walked in there and said hey and asked you to come with me again? No thanks, you already broke my heart once, I wasn’t going to let you do it again.”
“That’s not fair,” Matt said. “We were fucking teenagers; I had no idea what I was doing.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Brian countered. “We made a pact, in this very spot, to get out of here together. To get away from the pain of losing Jimmy, to make sure our lives meant something worth shit. And you promised me we would, and then you go home to her, she begs you to stay, and you fucking folded.”
“I was scared,” Matt said, his beer forgotten as he set it down in the dirt. “I didn’t know what I wanted.”
“Obviously,” Brian bit out. “You broke my fucking heart, and then I really had no fucking reason to stay, did I?”
“I’m sorry,” Matt said softly, his shoulders dropping. It was too much to contemplate what might’ve happened, if he had known Brian had come back.
“Too little, too late,” Brian told him. “Jesus, I don’t know why I’m here,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I could’ve stayed in Texas – I should’ve stayed in Texas. I’ll never see combat again, but I could’ve made a career there. But I got on a fucking plane and I came home, and now I’m fucking punishing myself all over again.”
“Why’d you come to the garage, then?”
Brian looked over at him, their eyes meeting before he looked away. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not to me.”
Brian sighed. “You always were so fucking stupid.”
Matt smiled.
Brian returned it.
“You still have feelings for me?”
Brian shifted, the smile sliding off his face, and crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t get to ask me that.”
“You don’t get to show up after ten years without an explanation.”
Brian bit his bottom lip, and let out another sigh. “Do you still have feelings for me?”
Matt knew there was a thin line between right and wrong. Just being with Brian in the bushes was bordering on wrong, but answering that question would have him stepping over it completely.
“Matt,” Brian said softly. “Do you?”
Matt stood, shaking his head quickly. “I’m married,” he said needlessly. “Jesus Christ, I’m fucking married, Brian. You’re too late.”
“Jesus Christ,” Brian echoed. “Then go home to your fucking wife.”
“Why’d you come back here?” Matt asked angrily. “You knew I got married, your parents were at the fucking wedding. What feasible reason do you have to be back in Huntington Beach, showing up at my fucking garage and giving me polaroids and mixed fucking signals?”
Brian frowned, anger flashing through his eyes. “Because the only thing I seem to be good at, is making my own life fucking painful,” he ground out. “Because I thought after ten years, I’d let you go, you asshole. I had to see you, to show myself I was over you.”
“So it didn’t matter about how I felt, you needed confirmation, right?” Matt asked belligerently. “How’d that work out for you?”
“Not so fucking good,” Brian snapped back. “You’ll be happy to know that despite everything – enlisting, spending eight years in the middle east, fucking other men to get over you – none of that worked. I’m still fucking in love with you.”
Matt sagged back, his knees shaking as he landed back down on the rock. Knowing it – and he did know – and hearing it, were two different things. Seeing the pain in Brian’s eyes in the barely-there moonlight tugged at his heart with such fierceness it made his chest ache, and the sinking realization that he was going to have to face up to the mistakes he had made as a teenager, made his head throb.
“Does that even register?” Brian pushed. “Make you feel good to know that I’m still fucking broken up about you?”
“No, it doesn’t make me feel good,” Matt ground out. “Jesus Christ, Brian. I’m not a piece of shit, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not,” Brian said, shaking his head. “I’m hurting me. This was such a fucking mistake,” he breathed out. “But it’s done now, and I’ve just…I’ve got to go.”
Matt wanted to stop him – wanted to touch him – but he knew that was another line he couldn’t cross. And although it broke his heart to let Brian go, he did, watching as he ducked under a low tree branch, and left Matt alone in the dark.
**
“You look like shit.”
Matt sighed, blinking his eyes tiredly. “We had beers at Johnny’s tonight, okay? If she asks.”
Zack Baker narrowed his green eyes, and opened the door to his house a little wider so Matt could enter. “Where were you really?”
Matt toed off his shoes, noticing he’d trekked a little mud onto the welcome mat. “Having a beer with Brian at the park.”
Zack’s eyes only narrowed further. “Brian?” he questioned, and all it took was three seconds before his eyes blew wide. “Brian Haner?”
“The one and the same,” Matt sighed tiredly.
It was close to eleven, and he’d sat in the park for almost an hour before he thought to actually move. His head had been spinning the entire time, and he had a headache, and all he really wanted was some sleep, but going home meant she’d notice he wasn’t okay, and there was no feasible explanation he could give her.
“Wow,” Zack said, shutting the front door, and led the way to the small living area near the entryway. “I haven’t seen him in years.”
“Probably about ten,” Matt supplied, diving face first once the suede brown couch. He pressed his face into a throw pillow and exhaled.
“No, more like a year or two?” Zack said, taking a seat in one of the recliner chairs. “Or maybe eighteen months? I don’t know, it was around the time of your wedding.”
Matt swallowed and rolled over slowly; his throat tight. “What?”
Zack shrugged. “I remember seeing him in town, I think. I asked him if he was coming to the wedding, and he said he wasn’t.”
“He was in Huntington Beach in the last two years?” Matt said slowly.
“Yeah dude, that’s what I’m saying,” Zack nodded. “Jesus, what is with you and Brian?”
“What do you mean?” Matt asked weakly.
“You were best fucking friends,” Zack reminded him needlessly. “Then he enlisted and it’s like all that went away.”
Matt swallowed, and looked up at the ceiling. These new details now intermixed with the ones he’d already been thinking over, and he knew there was a good chance he wouldn’t be getting much sleep.
“Look, you can crash,” Zack offered. “And I’ll cover, but at some point, I’m going to need an explanation as to why you can’t tell your wife you caught up with an old friend.”
Matt knew Zack wasn’t stupid. He could remember that Zack had copped a lot of the brunt of Matt’s anger when Brian had left, and he also knew that at some point, he was going to have to tell his friend the truth.