Page 71 of In at the Deep End

‘Curiosity is rarely a bad place to start.’

Matt stared across the garden.

“One last thing before I get some caffeine into me and pretend I’m a functioning human being.” Eric’s voice softened. “Owen says casual works for him. That’s his story. But think about what he actually told you. He had the love of his life. He lost him. Owen isn’t avoiding relationships because he’s afraid of them. He’s avoiding them because he’s already had the one he wanted.”

He said as much, didn’t he?

“You’re twenty-five,” Eric continued. “You’ve never had anything like that. So don’t assume his answer has to become yours.” More beats of silence. “You don’t know what works for you yet. Not because there’s something wrong with you, but because you haven’t met the person who makes you want to find out.”

Matt gazed at the garden where the morning sun was warming the grass.

Maybe Eric’s right. I don’t need all the answers.

He just needed to stop being afraid of the questions.

Eric cleared his throat. “I’ll send you my invoice.”

Matt frowned. “Invoice?”

“For today’s therapy session. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to put on a suit, because if I walk into the office like this, I’ll make the front page of the Stirling Observer, or even worse, the Daily Record.” And with that, he hung up.

Matt sat on the wall, his mind turning over the conversation. The objective had been simple—clear his head and get back to his dissertation.

Epic fail.

He was thinking about Owen more than ever.

“Matt!”

He turned towards the house. Dad stood at the door to the conservatory, beckoning him.

“Breakfast.”

Matt stood, brushed off his shorts, and headed back. As he drew closer, Dad tapped his watch. “They’ll be here in half an hour.”

He blinked. “So soon?”

“Zach has to go into work, unfortunately, so he’s dropping Beth and Jamie off first.”

Matt stepped into the conservatory and sniffed. The aroma of bacon filled the air. He chuckled. “Never mind killing the fatted calf for the firstborn’s return—Zach gets his favourite food ever.”

“But then he smothers the bacon with ketchup,” Mum shouted from the kitchen.

Dad and Matt exchanged glances. Zach drowned everything in ketchup.

“That’s your coffee.” Dad pointed to a mug on the dining table.

Matt pulled out a chair and sat. “Thanks.”

Dad took the chair facing him. “Are you managing to get any work done on the dissertation?”

Matt frowned. “Of course. I’m actually ahead of schedule.”

Dad pursed his lips.

Matt smiled. “You know, Mum’s right. You’d be hopeless at poker.” He tilted his head. “What’s on your mind?”

Dad hesitated. “We just haven’t seen much of you the last few days. Every time I look, you seem to be over at Owen’s.”