Author’s Note: This is another Andi and Matt story. You can find the first one here: Us.
Toys litter the floor. I take a deep breath. I love his kids. I really do. They’re fun and energetic and extremely smart. I never have more fun then when I’m playing with them. And thankfully, somehow, I can lose myself perfectly in the moment. Instead of not thinking about the fact that I’m in love with their father. Their happily married-to-their-mother father.
“Glad you could come by.” His tone is a little softer today. My back clenches the moment I sense this.
“Yeah. No problem!” I squeeze my hands together. I will not touch him. I have a habit of touching people, a habit I don’t normally mind – but this is Matt, and I try to keep Matt as a no touch zone.
He makes his way through the maze of toys towards his office. I follow, tripping over a few legos on the way.
“Oswalt needed another friend.” Matt explains as he turns his computer back on from sleep, “My little animation would do better with a few friends than just the one.”
I nod and mmmhmm while my eyes roam the room. There are pictures lining the bookcase. Mostly they’re of his kids, but a few of his wife and family. And then there’s one, hidden slightly out of view, of the two of us at work. Every time I walk into this room I find that picture. It’s always in the same place, but still, I’m waiting to see it out in the open just once.
“Samantha didn’t want to be the voice, so I figured I’d call you.” His hands roam the keyboard. I love watching his hands. They tend to be delicate and gentle even though they’re shaped like little sausages. I could eat his hands. I really could.
“Whaa?!” I respond, hoping for his laugh. I get it and continue, “She’s not shy.”
“No. But she was…busy today. I guess.” He ran a hand through his hair. Again I can sense how upset he is. And I know him, he wants to talk. He wants to talk to me.
It takes me about a minute before I’m able to place my hand on his shoulder and ask, “What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t respond right away but his hands stop typing.
“Do you remember Cassandra from work?” He asks, his eyes remain fixed on his computer.
“Yes.” I say, not being fully able to tear my hand from his body yet.
“I ran into her the other day. She used to have this huge crush on me.”
I’m paralyzed by his words, DOES HE KNOW?!!!!
“Sam knew it, and I guess she didn’t like that we had coffee.” He sighs. It’s a small sigh, like letting air out of a tiny balloon.
I squeeze his shoulder. I tell myself I do this as a friend, but it’s hard not to imagine that there are other reasons. “She’ll get over it.” I say, using my soft kid voice. He smiles, so I continue, “She knows you didn’t do anything. Remember when you go married and you were all ‘She’s a jealous one.’”
He laughs and nods, finally looking up at me. Looking in his eyes my heart hurts, so I immediately turn my attention to the little grey potato that’s taken over the computer screen. He can’t know. And I guess it’s more important that Sam never knows.
“Come on. Let’s get Oswalt a friend.” I rub my hands together menacingly and he chuckles his small laugh. He makes the grey potato nod and I can’t help but laugh too.
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