Uncut (Unexpected Book 4)

by Burgoa, Claudia

  Matt frowns, his stare frozen, but filled with raw sadness. “No, Thea. Baby, don’t do this.” His voice rips my insides, shredding me into pieces. “The only thing I have going for me is knowing that at the end of this dark period, you’re waiting for me. The light that’s guiding me through this is you. You’re my iridescent butterfly leaving colorful sparkles that guide me through the pathway out of wherever that fucker left me. If you pull the plug, I’ll stay in the darkness.”

  With every word he says, a tear falls. One next to the other. I look down at my bare feet that almost touch his. Can we figure out a way to make this work? How would we? That is the huge question. I want to make this better. He’s been my rock for so long and if I want us to work it out, I have to be his rock right now.

  “I don’t know how to make this work right now, Butterfly, but I can’t let you go either.”

  I study him. He’s so sweet and vulnerable, always opening his heart and giving as much as he can. Watching my clean wrist, I decide to shrink us, handle this as a rehabilitation program. If it fails, you start again. We never give up.

  “Back to the basics,” I say, lifting my gaze and clearing my tears.

  “There’s no longer a number count on your wrist, why?”

  A sad laugh is all I have for him. He just realized that. “I decided that I’m a big girl and I can count by years and months. Yes, the days matter, but I don’t need them on my skin to be strong.” I shake my head. “That’s what I mean, Matt. You would know if we were on better terms.”

  He looks down at me, giving me a sad smile, his eyes suddenly understanding that I’m not trying to hurt him. We look at each other for a long period, searching for each other, assessing the damage of everything that has happened in the past months. “What now?”

  “Let’s rewind and start again from day one,” I offer. “Let’s go back to being friends first, reconnecting and finding each other again. The rest will come. It has to because, Matthew Decker, you and I belong together. Like those waves that crashed and became one, sometimes they separate, but one day, eventually, they’ll find each other again. And we will, I promise you, we will.”

  “Oh, we will, babe. We’re like bacon and eggs, Oreos and chocolate milk, chips and guac, pancakes and blueberry syrup, Mac can’t go without the cheese. That’s you and me, baby.” A chuckle escapes me, erasing the sobbing noises that began to take over the room. “You’re my soulmate and you know me better than anyone else. You inspire me to be better, because you accept me just the way I am. Uglies and shit behind. No one else laughs at my stupidities the way you do, or believes in me the way you do. If you believe this is the best way to get to that future we want, I’m game. But please just don’t drop my hand. Promise?”

  “I swear I’ll never drop your hand, Mattie, and yes, I think this separation is for the best.” I stretch my neck and kiss him lightly knowing that for a long time this might be the last kiss we have. “I can’t believe you compared us with food.”

  “We’re like chocolate shakes and hamburgers.” I rest my head on his chest remembering that those two go perfectly with fries . . . but we lost our fries. “I love you, Butterfly, never doubt that. And this break doesn’t include sex with other people. We’re not seeing other people. We belong to each other.”

  “But selling that part of the company . . .” My father trails off and looks at the papers I just handed him, then moves his gaze to me. “Are you sure we have to do this?”

  “Yes, Father, we have to do it,” I inform him, handing him the pen. In order to save Cooperson Corporation and thousands of jobs, we have to sell a few divisions and properties. The empire my grandfather built is changing in order to be saved. “I put the Boston assets up for sale yesterday morning. We’ve received a few offers, but I made it clear that we’re in no hurry to liquidate them. They’re in the downtown area and if we do this right, you’ll have a good cushion.”

  Father puts on his reading glasses, signs the papers, and then hands them to me. “Thank you for helping, Tristan.”

  I shrug. A couple days after his accident, Mother left for the Hamptons and my siblings didn’t bother to show back up at the hospital. At his company, things are just as bad. His trusted management is moving on to other companies who can afford their salaries.

  “Tomorrow night I’m heading to L.A. I’m closing one of my bars for the after-party of a premiere,” I announce, placing the papers inside my folder. “The nurse should be here for the night in case you need help while I’m gone.”

  Fuck, I have to go to L.A. They’re going to be there at the premiere. I rub my face and lean against the desk to support myself, as the pain flows through my body. The lingering ache never leaves me, but sometimes it becomes a full-blown hurt that prevents me from functioning. Soon I’ll have to deal with the pain, the loss, and what I did to myself. What I did to them. One day the news of them marrying and having children will hit the Internet and if I don’t work this through before, it might kill me.

  If only I could go back in time. If only for one minute I could let myself be selfish and . . . but I won’t. They wouldn’t forgive me for being a prick, a fucking coward. Would they?

  “Thank you,” he says one more time. “After everything I did, you’re the only one who’s here by my side.” His voice cracks a bit at the end and my eyes dart to his. He’s quiet now, studying his hands. But if I’m not mistaken, he almost looks remorseful.

  “For now, at least until you get better, Father.” He’s been this way for the past few weeks since I brought him back from the hospital. Thanking me for bringing him food, handling his medicine, or trying to help him with his company. “I’m heading to the lawyer’s office. Call if you need me.”

  He opens his mouth, closes it, and just nods.

  I’m tucking my shirt inside my slacks, lecturing myself about tonight—what to expect and what I shouldn’t do. Thinking through the list of allowed questions that Pria handed the press. None include Thea, but I’m ready in case they ask about her. Stay cool; this isn’t your first time on the red carpet. But this is the first time my name is not only part of the credits, but is under producer and director. The interviews . . . Who the fuck am I kidding? I’m freaking out because Tristan fucking Cooperson will be at the after-party. When I booked the Black Out for this and other events, I believed we’d be together forever. Now . . . I’m about to see him for the first time in months.

  I lean forward, grabbing the edge of the sink with both hands as I stare at the mirror, gathering my equilibrium.

  You’re searching for a new life. Let the past go. His presence shouldn’t affect you. It’s over. Closing my eyes for a couple of beats, I find the energy, the strength to face him. I find it in her. She’s in my heart, regardless of how close or far we are from each other.

  With that last thought, I finish dressing and head to face this new role. It’s only a few hours—walk the red carpet, smile for the cameras, answer a few questions, and then watch the movie. Afterward I’ll make an appearance at the after-party for an hour or so and my duty is over.

  As predicted, the entire premiere shit was a breeze. People loved the movie, and the Oscar buzz began while walking the red carpet. It would be pretty cool, but I won’t hold my breath until it’s official. On our way back to the limo, things weren’t as smooth. And now . . . fuck I should head home. I walk alongside Pria and Jacob when we enter the nightclub. Scott, Tristan’s assistant, greets us and directs us to the VIP area where my parents are already sitting.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Jacob asks, and I nod. “You almost pounded a reporter, bro.”

  Yes, an unlucky bastard who asked the wrong question. “Are you and Ms. Levitz looking for another man?”

  Mason reached forward and stopped me before I did something stupid, but it had been an ongoing trend, asking about Thea. Most were harmless questions, but they reminded me of her. The woman I love who is far out of my reach for now.

  As we arrive at the VIP s
ection, I spot him. Exchanging pleasantries with my parents, who treat him as if the man is part of the family. I let that go because I know he needs it, even though they are part of what he left behind.

  “Decker.” Tristan focuses his eyes on Jacob with a curt nod. “I received your email. Maybe we can sit down in a couple of weeks when I travel to Seattle.”

  “Sure,” my brother says, shrugging and moving away along with Pria who gives Tristan a quiet hello.

  “Tristan,” I greet him.

  “Matthew.” Another cold look. Another curt nod. “You came alone?” He looks behind me, expecting something or someone to appear.

  I don’t know what pisses me off more; the fact he won’t look me in the eye, or the fact he is so eagerly scanning the area for Thea. “She’s not here.” I grit my teeth.

  His eyes finally meet mine, if only for a second before darting away again. “Of course.” He straightens, buttoning his suit jacket. “Enjoy your evening,” he says to the entire table, not acknowledging me any further, before disappearing back into the crowd.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to offer him the money to buy him out of the Silver Moon, but I didn’t. I hate to say it, but I need him. No one knows how to manage a bar better than him. There’s no fucking way I’m selling my part. That bar belongs to us: Thea and me.

  The bad boy has grown. Something inside him has changed, matured. And it wasn’t just the tuxedo that made him look so goddamned delectable. No. Underneath that sexy, classy exterior is a wiser man. My heart felt it, just as it ached by his proximity. Fuck, to think that once I had him. I rub my hands over my face, trying to clear the image of him from my mind, but it isn’t working. The reality is that he’s moved on without me. Not only him, but also Thea. They are in a different place. A happy place where I can’t reach them. Where I shouldn’t reach them. I should just let them be. They deserve their happiness. A knock on the door takes my attention away from my thoughts. Pins and needles shoot through my heart, as I wonder if it’s him behind the door. “What?”

  Disappointment floods my veins when the door opens, and Pria appears behind it. “Sorry to bother you. Do you mind if I borrow your computer?” She shows me a flash drive. “It won’t take me long, I promise.”

  I rub my eyes and rise from my seat. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Jacob?”

  She doesn’t respond. I guess I’m her least favorite person. The entire Decker family must hate me, though the patriarchs showed me affection just now.

  “I’ve never seen this picture.” She lifts the frame on top of my desk. “You look happy,” she says softly, and her eyes move toward mine. “It’s taking them a while to find their footing again, you know. Why did you do it?”

  I shrug. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Breaking up with them when you still love them.” She shows me my favorite picture, the one at Christmas that AJ took of the three of us. Thea is in the middle; Matt and I are hugging her and she’s hugging us. Kissing her right on the corner of her lips. “So again, why did you do it?”

  I tighten my jaw at her question. The answer is so fucking complicated. I knew Matt was famous, but I never considered how much until that day. Same with Thea. My sister did though, and like her, there are thousands of people that’ll take the chance to make money off them. I set my priorities straight. Never again will anyone talk about Thea like they did because of her past, or because of me. If I could help it, no one would talk like that about my sweet girl ever again. Matt adores her, and I thought I was doing the right thing.

  Because I love her. Thea’s my hard limit. I swore to protect her. Simply put, I did it because I love them. Reality struck, and as I predicted she got hurt the most, but I had to save her from further judgment. Since that night when I made the decision, I haven’t discussed it with anyone. In everyone’s mind, I’m the fucking asshole who left them. Or at least, that’s how I made them feel. I fucked it up. It doesn’t matter. The two are set to be happy. At the end of the day, I didn’t sacrifice anything, because their happiness is my own happiness. But wait, did she just say it’s taking them a while to find their footing? That can’t be possible; they’re supposed to be happy.

  She reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “You still love them.”

  I shake my head. “Pria, don’t build sandcastles in your head. That stage of my life is over. Maybe I should get rid of that picture.”

  She shakes her head. “You can erase the material objects, Tristan, but can you erase what’s seared deep inside your soul? You think you’ve done them some sort of valiant favor, but you haven’t.” Without another word, Pria turns and exits my office.

  I sit and stare at my once-again closed door, and try to ignore the crushing feeling in my chest. I should be used to it by now. No, not even an exorcism could remove them from my soul and heart. You can’t stop loving the loves of your life, not when they are what keeps your heart beating. They altered me, changed me to my very core, and I’ve become a better version of myself because of them. A version I never envisioned would exist, but for months it became real. I feel a strong and sudden need to apologize to them, to become a selfish bastard and forget what trouble being in a triad will bring to Thea. How hard it would always be for all of us. How we would always be under the scrutiny of the public eye. How people would not understand. How they would judge us. Would it be worth all of that? Another glance at our picture brings a sliver of hope to life.

  And then there’s my biggest niggling fear: if I put myself out there—if I try—would they give me a second chance?

  I bang my drums hard. This isn’t the end, I repeat. She’s getting to know her over-protective father and brother. It’s been three weeks since we started the break and I hate to admit it, but her “counseling technique” is working. I’ve talked to her more than I did for the past three months after our break up with Tristan. The urge to look for her is replaced by the urge to find a way to discover my place and then make room for her in my life. Yes, finding each other, our special kind of love. Damn, I should head upstairs to the piano and set all these thoughts and notes straight, translate them into something permanent. Create the song that’s been pushing its way through for such a long time now.

  A short version of my love story, an uncut kind of love that had no boundaries, shape, or form. Three hearts that fused into one. A pure love reduced to ashes, short-lived due to the social etiquette that dictates who we are, who we love, and who we become.

  As I hit the cymbals, the front pocket of my pants buzzes one more time and I give up trying to keep up the rhythm and pick up the call.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey,” my sweet butterfly greets me. “Busy?”

  “Never for you, Butterfly,” I say, checking the time on the wall clock. Midnight. Right, it’s our phone call time. “Wasn’t it my turn to call you?”

  “Yeah, but while I was on the phone giving a report about Gracie to your sister, she told me you were in the music room—banging the drums.” She sighs. Right, she stayed at AJ’s to care for Gracie. “How was the premier?”

  “Fine. I was asked multiple times where my girlfriend was tonight. That would be you, so maybe next time you can join me.” I wait for a comment, maybe a protest about visiting California, but she says nothing. “The after-party sucked.” I pick up my T-shirt from the floor and clean the sweat dripping off my body. “Nothing I really want to discuss tonight. What’s up with you? Ready for Saturday?”

  “Hmm, so no to California or any premiere for now,” she finally responds. I make my way out of the room and toward the stairs. “Sorry about the party—you can vent whenever you want. Saturday . . . nope, I’m not ready for Saturday but I will be by then. Dad will come with me as he wants to be there for me while Jessica recovers. How’s the search for the right building going?”

  I have four different prospects, but I’m not ready to tell anyone. Not my family, nor Thea. Their faces, their voices—or maybe their comments—w
ill influence my decision. A decision I have to make based on what’s best for the company and not for me. Three of them are in Vancouver and one is in Seattle. The studios are ready to move, if only I can make up my mind. If I open them in Vancouver I think I’ll relocate too. It’s only a forty-five-minute flight, or a three-hour drive, so visiting my family won’t take long.

  Thea told me to make the best decision, not to think about her or what’d be best for us. She believes that we do belong together and that our individual lives will align. If not, we’ll still be special soulmates, the kind who can remain friends and walk through life looking after each other.

  “There are a couple I’m looking at. It’s all about numbers, and . . . I miss you,” I whisper as I make it out of the house and onto the beach. The waves remind me of her, one crashing against the other becoming one. “Any chance we can get together and check if the chemistry is still there?”

  If I can at least wrap her in my arms and listen to the beat of her heart while I relax with that unique lavender scent that is all Thea. But I know the answer: no. My little butterfly is in the process of morphing herself, and along with her, I’m morphing too. Adapting and learning to cope with losses, gains.

  “Maybe. I’ll think about it. How about if you’re my date at a wedding? A cousin of mine from Arizona is getting married.” I walk into the dark water, letting it wash my feet and thinking about the wedding she’s mentioning. Tara’s daughter is getting married. She’s my parents’ friend, and Arthur’s sister-in-law. Yesterday I told my parents I wouldn’t go, but I guess I have to go now. “I have never met her, but her parents are cool.”

  “It’s a date, Butterfly.”

  “I’m glad I was able to chat with you tonight, Mattie.” She yawns on the other side of the line. “Talk to you tomorrow?”