The Fragile Line: The Complete Series Box Set: Parts One, Two, & Three

by Kobishop, Alicia

  I didn’t expect him to be happy. But I expected him to say something.

  “I know this is awkward as fuck,” I tried to ease the tension. “I never expected any of this. I know how you feel about her and believe me, I tried so fucking hard not to let it happen. Especially because you had her first. Do you know how much it kills me that you had her first?” With the images of them together swirling in my mind, my blood began to boil, my fists clenched, all the muscles in my body tensed. “I mean, the thought of you two together makes me want to—”

  “I never had her,” he cut me off and finally looked at me. “Trust me when I say that. Not in any way that’s important. I never wanted her the way you do. Not even close. And she never had me either. We never had anything. It was so stupid. And I honestly regret the shit out of all of it.”

  A brief uncomfortable silence ensued as the sobering effect of the truth hit us both. Our situation was shit. But now that it was out in the open, maybe we could all move forward.

  “As fucking sappy as this is going to sound, you’re my best friend, man,” I said. “The past is the past, and I know I have to let that all go. And I will. Workin’ on it. Do you think you could ever get past what happened with you two?”

  “You mean get over how she plotted to sabotage my relationship with Liv?” he shook his head. “It would be damn tough.”

  I nodded, completely understanding how he must feel, considering he perceived Chloe to be somewhat crazy. Okay, he thought she was fucking psycho. But he didn’t know that was just an act she used to protect herself. He didn’t know her like I did. He hadn’t seen the deeper, more vulnerable side of her like I had. “She's not the kind of person you think she is. Yeah, she has a front that she puts on—a defense mechanism—but it’s not the real her. The Chloe I know is buried pretty damn deep, but she’s in there. And she’s…fucking amazing. And good. And strong. I think if you just try to talk to her, try to straighten things out, you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

  He leaned back on the couch as he raised his brows and sucked in a breath as if to say you’re pushing it, bro. Instead of totally rejecting the idea, however, he asked, “Do you love her?”

  I didn’t have to hesitate or think about it. I already knew my answer. Part of me had known that I loved her all along, and after last night, I couldn’t even try to deny it for another second. But I hadn’t admitted it to her yet. She’d have to be the first to hear it. “It sure feels that way.”

  He nodded in understanding. “Alright, I’ll talk to her, but you have to do something for me first.”

  “Name it.”

  “Put some fucking pants on!” he scrunched up his face in mock disgust…or maybe he really was disgusted. But he couldn’t hold back his grin. With that one sentence, I knew we were good.

  I laughed, “You got it, boss.”

  ~~~

  ~Matt~

  Past (Age Twenty)

  “Who the hell are you?” I asked the scrawny-looking guy in the short-sleeved, pastel blue, button-up shirt. The guy who was holding Maya’s hand.

  “Uh—” Maya took a step forward and slightly in front of the guy as if she had to protect him from me. Truth is, she probably did have to. I could take him with my pinkie. “—Matt, this is Wyatt. He’s—um…”

  She didn’t finish. Didn’t need to. The look of remorse in her eyes—the way they pleaded with me to forgive—said it all.

  She had replaced me. With him.

  Fuck.

  He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, challenging me and claiming her all at once.

  “I’m her fiancé,” he said in a high-pitched voice that could easily be mistaken for a woman’s. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating just a tiny bit, but in all seriousness, from his high-pitched voice, to his hairless arms, to the clavicle exposed in the opening of his too-far-down unbuttoned shirt, the guy barely carried a single ounce of masculinity. What the hell did she see in him?

  And did he just call himself her fiancé?

  No. Fucking. Way.

  He pulled her in even closer, “We’re here to get our wedding bands sized.”

  Maya’s lips pressed together in annoyance at his territorial move. She casually removed Wyatt’s arm from her shoulder. I almost laughed at the disappointment on his face. Maya was not one who liked to be treated like property.

  Shouldn’t her fiancé know this?

  That’s when I noticed her left hand and the finger on it that sported a huge ass rock against a gold band.

  Maya hated gold. That was the first thing I told saleslady Beth…no gold. I knew because she had gotten a gold bracelet from her mother for Christmas and complained that as much as she wanted to wear it, she hated that it was gold.

  Gold is for grandmas were her exact words.

  Shouldn’t her fiancé know this too?

  “Matt is…” Maya started to explain who I was to her. Again, she drew a blank.

  Wyatt filled the gap, though. Just like he did while I was gone.

  How long after I left did she jump into his bed? Was it before or after I finished boot camp?

  “You’re the ex,” he stated.

  That’s when it sunk in. It didn’t matter when, where, or why it happened because I was the ex. The one who didn’t matter anymore. The one she’s moved on from.

  I’m the one who gave up the chance to be in her life.

  She didn’t wait for me.

  It fucking hurt.

  Beth cleared her throat and called out, “Can I help you?”

  Thank you, Beth.

  Wyatt took the bait and headed to the cashier’s counter, giving Maya a kiss on the forehead before leaving her with me.

  “This is why you wouldn’t take my calls,” I thought out loud.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “Okay then,” I conceded, knowing that no good would come of me sticking around to hear any more. The desire to punch Wyatt’s pretty face and carry Maya over my shoulder to take her home was getting stronger by the second. “Well, good luck to you.”

  With the plastic bag of what I had just purchased burning a fucking hole through my fingers, I brushed past her, catching her lilac scent, vivid memories instantly flashing in my mind.

  I remembered that she’d place just a small dab of the flowery perfume behind her ears, and nowhere else, a discovery I made in the backseat of my car one night as I kissed my way from her breast to her earlobe.

  The memory…and knowing that would never happen again…crushed me.

  I kicked the glass entry door open with my boot and made my way through the parking lot to my old, beat-up car—my first car—the one my parents saved in their garage while I was away. The car was so old that it didn’t even have a remote push-button to unlock the door, so I stuck the key in the driver’s side door and turned it. As I pulled on the hand to open the door, I heard her.

  “Matt, wait!” Maya shouted, running across the lot toward me. With the sun shining in her hair, making it glow like honey as it bounced with each step she took, the real-life, tangible Maya identically mirrored the girl who had occupied my dreams ever since I left home. The only difference now, besides the length of her hair, was that the girl I dreamt about was mine…and always would be.

  Maybe that’s all she had ever really been. An unattainable dream. Someone to hope for when all seemed hopeless. Someone to push me to turn my life around and to do what’s right. Maybe I never really knew her at all.

  “I’m sorry,” she said as she almost reached out for me. To, what…hug me? Touch my face? But at the last moment, she decided to keep her distance. “I just wanted you to come home safe. I thought if I told you, you might…”

  “I might what?”

  “I don’t know…do something reckless. Something that would get you hurt,” she cautiously smiled. “You’ve always been a bit impulsive, you know? And maybe a smidge reckless…”

  She had a point. But I thought she liked th
ose traits.

  “I’ve never stopped caring about you,” she continued. “And I probably never will. But when you left the way you did…I realized that love isn’t enough.”

  Did she hear herself? Love is always enough. Love is what makes you try hard enough to make it work. She just didn’t want to try. I wasn’t going to say that to her, though. Because it didn’t matter anymore. She had already let me go.

  Maybe she never truly loved me.

  She was a planner, always in control, where I preferred spontaneity. I wouldn’t call her uptight, but I had never really seen her let loose either. We were complete opposites. And even though they say opposites attract, whatever quality was needed to make a relationship of opposites work was missing from ours.

  It was a fact I always knew but never wanted to accept.

  “Everything I did, I did for you, you know,” I divulged. “My methods may have been a little messed up, and trust me, I’ve learned from my mistakes, but I want you to know that my heart was always in the right place.”

  It was with her.

  She nodded, her eyes glossing over. “I know.”

  I looked past her, to the jewelry store where her fiancé waited by the door, watching us. “Are you happy?” I asked.

  She pressed her lips together in a heartfelt smile and nodded again, “Yeah. I really am.”

  “He gives you what you need?”

  “Yeah,” she said contentedly. “He does.”

  I took a deep breath in. “Okay.” Exhale. “Okay,” I repeated.

  ~~~

  ~Matt~

  Present Day

  I headed up the stairs to get Chloe. And to put some pants on. I found her sitting on the bed, fully dressed, coat on, with her head down and back turned to me.

  “You cold?” I asked as I opened a dresser drawer to pull out some sweatpants. “Because I know what’ll warm—” She brought her finger under her eye. Was she wiping away a tear? I couldn’t tell for sure because she still hadn’t looked at me. “Hey. You okay?”

  “I know Logan is here,” she whispered, as I put the pants on. An unmistakable melancholy rang in her tone. “I heard his voice.”

  I took a seat on the bed next to her and tried to take her hand. But she dodged my gesture by standing up before my hand reached hers.

  “Are you mad?” I asked, confused. “I didn’t remember he was coming, Chlo. He comes over to lift on Wednesdays and not much else has been on my mind lately other than you, so it slipped my mind that he’d be here today.”

  “I’m not mad,” she closed her eyes and took a calming breath. It worked because when she opened them, she appeared to have regained all control. “I’m not mad. Really.”

  “It’s probably a good thing he’s here, though, don’t you think? Gives us all the opportunity to clear the air.”

  She stepped to the window, staring outside as she spoke, “Speaking of clearing the air, tell me about this opportunity you have to work with Dalton Davis.”

  “You heard that?” Shit. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I was going to tell her at the right time…the right way. In a way that wouldn’t put her on guard or make her feel like staying wasn’t an option. Because at this point? Staying with her was the only option. “Fuck, Chloe, I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you. So we could talk about it. How long were you listening?”

  “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I did listen long enough to hear that. Not much else. My guess is that Dalton asked you to join the show…to replace Marc. Am I right? I mean, you’re drop dead gorgeous, you know cars, and unlike Marc, you’ve got your shit together. You’d be perfect. So, tell me, Matt, are you going to be the next American Muscle star?” she asked with an encouraging smile.

  Something about that smile tore me up inside. I didn’t recognize the reason for my reaction at first until it hit me: she wasn’t putting up a fight.

  Chapter Twelve

  ~Chloe~

  Present Day

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Matt scratched his brow. “I only have another day or two to give him my answer. Filming for the next season starts in a few weeks, and they need a replacement soon. I’m actually surprised he’s given me this long.”

  “He must really want you,” I said as I stared out his bedroom window, watching the children next door put the finishing touches on a snowman they had just made with their father. The girl jabbed sticks into its sides for arms. The boy stuck a carrot into its head for the nose. The dad tied a scarf around its neck.

  Just like Brynn and I used to do with our dad.

  Matt stood from the bed and joined me at the window, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. He placed his chin on my shoulder and stared out at the neighborhood with me. “What do you want, Chloe?”

  I wanted the last three years back. I wanted to erase them and start over so that I could be the person he needed me to be. So that I could change the self-sabotaging things I’ve done, change the things that have hurt the people I care about, and do what’s right instead, even if it’s hard—like Matt does. So that I could be worthy of his love.

  But I can’t.

  And I’m not.

  I wanted my parents. My sister.

  But we don’t always get the things we want in life. And instead of accepting that, and being grateful for what I do have, I’ve spent the last three years focusing on betrayal…holding on to resentment. I’ve been moving backward, ruining any chance I’ve had to form any kind of real connection with another human being. I thought I was protecting myself. But I’ve done the exact opposite.

  Matt showed me that. Because of him, I’m ready to take my life back. Starting with doing the right thing. Right now.

  I turned around in his arms and cupped his cheeks, staring into his tortured eyes. “I want you to be happy. You have to accept the offer.”

  Matt’s light is destined to shine. I wouldn’t stop that from happening. Not ever. Besides, if I held him back now, he would only resent me later.

  “What if I said no?” he demanded. “What if I told you I won’t? Not if it means losing you in the process.”

  I knew I had to say something that would convince him. He didn’t believe I would hold him back. He’d argue that he’d never resent me for giving up this chance at an amazing career, that I’m all he needs to be happy. I knew this. He hadn’t told me that he loved me, but I knew he did. By the way he looked at me. The way he responded to my touch.

  And I could easily accept that, and we could live our lives together…in love. But that would only dull his light. He’d live his whole life wondering…what if.

  “I’m not yours to lose.” I fought back tears and forced a smile, trying my damnedest to make him believe that my words weren’t lies. I was his from the moment he stood in front of my car, like he could actually stop it from moving, the night we broke bread at Ricci’s. I’ll always be his. I choked out my next words, reminding myself that this was what he needed. “I never was.”

  I raised myself up onto my tiptoes and kissed him. Neither one of us moved our lips or progressed the kiss. But that didn’t stop my skin from burning or my heart from racing. And it wasn’t because of need or desire.

  It was because this kiss would be our last.

  “Goodbye, Matt,” I whispered, removing myself from his hold, catching a glimpse of his heartbroken eyes. “Please don’t follow me.”

  I’ve known sadness. I’ve known pain.

  Ripping myself away from him was agony.

  ###

  Part

  Three

  Chapter One

  ~Chloe~

  I walked slowly down Matt’s staircase, white-knuckling the railing with every step I took, knowing that I had left a heartbroken man upstairs. A good man, who deserved the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that had come his way—and who would have given it up for me. So I had lied to him to remove the one obstacle holding him back. I urged my body to keep pushing forward when all I wanted to do was
run back to him, jump into his arms, and never let him go. So far, he was abiding by my request: please don’t follow me.

  A floorboard creaked under my shoe as I entered the living room, the noise snapping me out of my tortured thoughts, reminding me that I had one more hurdle to face before I could walk out of Matt’s house—and out of his life.

  Logan was relaxing on the couch with his ankles crossed on the coffee table, browsing through a car magazine. The creaky floorboard got his attention. His expression became remote when he looked up from the article he’d been reading and saw me.

  Had I not been reeling from one of the worst moments of my life, I probably would have been a bit more nervous about the prospect of talking to—or even seeing—Logan again. After all, I had singlehandedly orchestrated one of the worst moments of his life. Instead, I just felt numb. All that mattered to me now was that I right the wrong I had done—and then get the hell out of there.

  I took a deep breath, somehow pushing back the sob that threatened to burst from my chest. I had nothing more to lose, and Logan deserved to know the truth.

  “Logan, listen, I—I just…” I rested my hands on my hips and hung my head, blinking repeatedly to keep the tears at bay before finally meeting his gaze. “Nothing happened between you and me that night.”

  He hadn’t moved a muscle since I entered the room, had made no effort to fill the silence as I had struggled to find the right words. Logan wasn’t going to make this easy for me. Fair enough.

  He nodded slowly, knowing exactly which night I was referring to. Leaning forward, he planted his feet on the floor and tossed the magazine on the coffee table. His elbows rested on his knees as he studied me, as if he was genuinely trying to figure me out. More like, trying to figure out what my angle was. Perhaps more than anyone else, Logan had every reason be skeptical of my motives. But, nonetheless, I was grateful to him for the chance to come clean. Anyone else wouldn’t have given me that chance. But Logan saw the good in others, always gave people the benefit of the doubt—even me. Being reminded that he was one of the good guys only made me feel worse about the pain I had caused him.