He's not quite sure why, but Matt can't help feeling very strongly that Kincaid is put off somehow by the fact he was engaged. Not angry or anything, just...disappointed maybe? Sad that he didn't know about it? Those both had potential. It was weird, he and Kincaid had been so close for so long. He remembered the letters that they'd exchanged, the ones he had stopped replying to because he was with a Muggle and owl post was weird, so please stop sending them. But had never actually shared any of those things with his should-have-been best friend. Never told him that he was trying to go without magic, that he'd stopped making pictures move. He knew damn well that saying as much in a letter would have made Kincaid worried sick, just as worried as his parents had been.
Bless them, really. It was a damn good thing they'd taken him back after he'd dropped off the face of the Earth like that.
A weight seems to drop on his chest the moment Kincaid asks what she was like and he tries to put off facing it. Grins at the talk of traveling abroad and gets genuinely excited when he finds out that his best mate went traveling and painted in France. "I bet your painting was wonderful. And you got to travel while you did it! That's wicked cool, mate. I'm seriously jealous. After a time like that you have every right to drift around for a while. Lots of world to see and things to do. No need to settle."
He grins and spreads his arms wide for a moment to illustrate just how much world there was for him to conquer.
But then he was back to square one, all the questions about his ex lover that needed answering. What was she like? Was she awful or did it not work for another reason. And really, there was a whole mess of reasons it didn't work, but he started with the easiest to identify. "Well, she was a muggle, like I said. I, uh...I gave up magic for her."
He gives a heavy sigh and sits on the bed, absently petting the first dog to jump up and nuzzle into his chest. "When we first met, I thought she was...I thought she was great. I mean...obviously."
He snorts at his own discomfort on the topic and tries to piece together how to explain the way he'd fallen in and out of love. "We met in an art class that I was taking at the local art studio in Cardiff. Her name was Jaimie, she liked my art and my dogs and we got along super well. She moved in after six months, we were engaged at nine, and by the time a year rolled around things were starting to get rocky. I was going from job to job because my muggle art was not nearly as impressive as what I paint now. Like, it was alright, but wasn't selling super well. But I'm an artist, it's what I do, and I wasn't going to tie that up. She hated it, though. Kept telling me that I needed to go to muggle college and get a degree in business or some shit like that. Merlin, there were red flags for months before..."
For a moment he couldn't help trailing off, felt his stomach tighten at the memory. "I came home one night after a shift at the comic store I was working in and sat down to paint. I remember just being fucking exhausted and sitting down in the spare room and turning on some tunes and she comes storming in and we got into a huge fight. She, uh...she ruined a bunch of my paintings. Broke canvases, washed my paint down the sink, told me I was chasing a ridiculous dream...so I left."
With a casual shrug he patted Legolas's head. "Me and the boy here packed up and left, but she kept his brothers. Rather unfortunate, that."
Shaking his head, he realized he felt exponentially better having told that story. "Sorry, I know that's a lot. Bit of a downer, really. Worked out for the best, I s'pose. Living the rest of my life without magic would have sucked."