Heaven Or Heartbreak? [COMPLETED]

Never Ending Torture

"So," My mom started during dinner that night. "How are y'all doing? Heard a lot of giggling upstairs." She winked at me, and I felt heat rise to my cheeks.

Matthew smirked. "Oh, we were just messing around. Annabelle's, erm, fun to tease."

I shoveled some rice into my mouth. My mom had made arroz con pollo, rice and chicken, for dinner. Even though I was Cuban, she wasn't, and normally never made Spanish meals. Matthew was a Spaniard with a hint of Mexican, so maybe his sudden coming had piqued this interest of my mother dearest.

"So, Dad, how was work today? Did you have lunch with your co-workers?" I asked. Normally my Dad went out and had a salad or something with his work friends and boss.

He shoved a little forkful of chicken into his mouth, nodding. "It was good. Yes, I did...I had chicken caesar salad."

"You dog!" My mom teased, tsking playfully.

Matthew smiled uneasily. Something seemed wrong.

"Matthew...can I ask you a question?" I gently grasped his wrist, heading towards the kitchen.

He looked down at his shoes once we were in the kitchen. "What's up?"

"I should be the one asking you that question," I said. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged. "Eh. I guess I'm just home sick."

I sighed. "We both know that's not it. Tell me."

He opened his mouth to speak, before being interrupted by my mom, "Guys, your food is going to get cold!"

I mouthed a Tell me later, and we both returned to the table, eating without another word.

-&-&-&-&-&-

I flipped a page in my book, thinking about what tomorrow would be like. There weren't really any plans for the rest of the week, so unless I made arrangements with Esmee or Matthew, I'd most likely be bored.

I heard a light knock on my door. "Come in." I said.

Matthew stepped in and closed the door. Then he came over and sat next to me.

"So about before-" I started.
"Sorry for-" Matthew tried.

We both laughed at the collision course. "Sorry...you go first." I beckoned.

"Right, um...I'm sorry about before. It's just, my grandma hasn't been doing so well, and I miss her." He said, sadness glinting in his sea blue eyes.

I frowned. "Sorry to hear that," I rubbed his shoulder apologetically. "I have no grandparents left, but my grandpa had Alzheimer's and eventually couldn't walk anymore."

"Ah. I see. Well my grandma has Parkinson's...and I've just been worried. She's my last grandparent and grandmother left."

"I understand. I hope you get a good first night's sleep, though. Don't let sad things keep you awake." I half-smiled, poking him in the side teasingly.

He smiled weakly. "I'll try."

"Good. That's all I ask then." I kicked off my shoes and laid my sore feet off the side of the bed. "Hey, I know you're feeling down, but would you mind...rubbing my feet?" I blushed.

My feet were incredibly ticklish, especially my toes and center. But they also hurt...a lot.

He was taken aback for a moment, probably not quite expecting such a bold question. "Um...sure."

I gawked. "Really?" Normally the person I'd ask would say no.

"Yeah, why not." He patted his lap. "Put 'em up here."