Chapter 14
Colette's heart raced as she stumbled in shock. The drinks on her tray wobbled precariously, almost toppling before she managed to steady her grip. Her mind was in a whirl, the reality of Matt and Iris sitting together hitting her like a physical blow.
“You sure do know a lot about stock market and exchange rates, Ms. Iris,” one of the elder gentlemen in a brown suit remarked, his tone both impressed and conversational.
“Oh, well, it’s where I earned my first dollar, so...” Iris replied with a modest shrug, her voice carrying a hint of pride.
“You must be very proud, Matheo,” the elder gentleman continued, turning his attention to Matt.
Colette felt a pang in her chest as she watched Matt nod approvingly at Iris. “Very. I hardly know anyone more knowledgeable about the market than Iris,” he said, his words slicing through Colette’s already fragile composure.
“Hurry up and put a ring on her finger already, then, before someone else raises the exchange rates,” the elder gentleman joked, and the table erupted in laughter. Stacy had finished placing the food on the table, and now it was Colette’s turn to serve the drinks. Her hands trembled violently, as if she were standing in the freezing cold of Antarctica. Her senses were scrambled, emotions roiling beyond her control.
In the midst of her turmoil, Colette realized she was waiting for Matt to deny it. She watched as he and Iris shared a secretive smile, a silent communication that excluded her entirely. It wasn’t hard for Colette to imagine that she was the butt of their inside joke.
“Actually, I am already married,” Matheo said with a rueful smile, breaking the moment. The old man seemed unperturbed, quickly dismissing the matter with a wave of his hand. But for Colette, her true test of patience had only just begun.
As she started placing the first glass of drink on the table, her eyes met Matt’s. His shock was evident, his expression a mixture of disbelief and confusion. Slowly, his eyes narrowed in disapproval as he realized his wife was serving drinks to his business partners.
Colette’s hands shook even more, the glasses clinking softly against the tray. Her mind raced back to her teenage years, to the days when she was a nervous wreck, unsure of herself and her place in the world. The same feelings of inadequacy and fear now surged back, stronger than ever.
Colette's heart thudded in her chest as she navigated the crowded restaurant floor. Her hands were trembling, but she focused on keeping her head down. The last thing she wanted was for Iris to recognize her. She knew that if Iris did, it could lead to an embarrassing scene, not just for her, but for Mathew as well. He would be mortified if his affluent business partners discovered his wife was working as a waitress. With practiced efficiency, she placed the drinks on the table and retreated quickly. Iris was too busy basking in the attention of the group to notice the mousy waitress slipping away.
As she hurried away, she thought she heard Matt whisper, "Itty..." Her heart skipped a beat. Had he really said her name, or was it just her imagination? She didn't wait to find out. Fleeing as fast as her legs would carry her, she burst out into the dimly lit alley behind the restaurant. The alley was a place where the staff came to smoke or take a break during the day. Leaning against the paintless red brick wall, she tried to catch her breath. The wall, old and worn, seemed to absorb her anxiety. She was still trying to calm her racing heart when the back door of the restaurant swung open, and Matt walked out, striding purposefully towards her.
“Why are you doing this, Colette?” Matt demanded, his voice tinged with anger and something else—shame? His eyes raked over her black apron, and Colette felt a pang of hurt. Was he ashamed of her now, because she had taken a job as a waitress?
“Doing what?” she replied, trying to sound indifferent. Maybe she wanted him to say it, to admit what he was thinking.
“You left me, Colette. I didn’t abandon you! You are still my wife, and my wife doesn’t need to work as a waitress to earn a living.” His voice grew louder, each word laced with frustration. He stepped closer, grabbing her chin to force her to look into his eyes. “What is this, Itty? Another way to show the world that I’m a failure? That I’ve failed as a husband who can’t provide for his wife?”
“I never said that!” Colette interrupted, her voice shaky, but Matt wasn’t listening.
“Then why else are you working this low-paying job? Unless this is yet another way of blackmailing me into giving in to your crazy demands?” He was shouting now, his grip tightening on her shoulders as he pulled her closer. “Is that it, Colette? You want me to fire Iris, or you’ll keep doing things like this to torment me? To hurt me more?”
His voice was filled with pain, and though he turned his face away, Colette saw a lone tear escape his eye. Suddenly, she understood. This wasn’t just about their fight. This was about Matt’s past, about his mother who had worked low-paying jobs to support him and his siblings after their father died. The bitterness of those years, the struggle and the shame, had scarred him deeply.
Colette hadn't understood just how deeply this had affected him until she saw the anger in his eyes today.
"Matt... I am..." Colette's words were cut off as Matt's hands clamped down on her shoulders, pulling her into a fervent kiss. The world around her blurred, the sounds of the city and the restaurant fading away. His lips were insistent, demanding, as if he was trying to erase all the pain and misunderstandings with this one act. She felt the rough texture of the brick wall against her back and the cold, metallic surface of the dumpster beside them.
His body pressed against hers, and she felt the undeniable evidence of his arousal. Her cheeks flushed with a deep crimson, reminiscent of a schoolgirl's first kiss. She responded in kind, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Time lost all meaning as they kissed with a desperate passion, each of them pouring their emotions into the embrace.
When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathless. His eyes bored into hers, a strange mixture of desire, regret, and something she couldn't quite place. She was half-expecting him to demand she come home with him, to fix everything right then and there.
But instead, he surprised her. "Dinner on Saturday?" he asked, his voice almost sheepish. The intensity of the moment shifted as he looked at her with a hopeful expression.
Colette nodded, still catching her breath. "Great, I'll pick you up at eight then," he said, his voice lighter, almost relieved. He leaned in for another sweet kiss, this one more tender than the last, leaving her yearning for more.
He pulled away and left, the back door of the restaurant closing behind him with a soft thud. Colette stood there, her mind reeling. The kiss, the unexpected invitation—it all left her feeling more confused and conflicted than ever.
She leaned against the cold brick wall, her fingers touching her lips where his kiss still lingered. Why did she feel so sad and disappointed? She realized it was because he hadn't asked her to come home. The dinner invitation was nice, but it felt like a step backward, not forward. It proved that he wasn't letting Iris go, that he still saw this as a temporary rift, something that could be fixed with time and patience, without giving up his dear-dear Iris.