Logan stared at me expectantly, waiting for the revelation to hit me. Finally, it did.
I continued, “I left her.”
“Just like Chloe left you today. I can honestly tell you that I would have never expected her to fess up to me the way she did this morning. And the way she said it—the things she said to me—let’s just say for the first time, she was thinking of more than just herself. It’s obvious she has feelings for you. I just think she is in the same position now as you were when you left Maya.”
As the wheels in my mind processed this information, a new hope rose in my heart. Chloe wasn’t ready for us yet, and frankly, I didn’t know if I was ready for us yet either. The timing sucked. If we put the pressure of a new, committed relationship onto us at this point in the game, there was no doubt in my mind that it would inevitably fail.
Which meant I’d have to be strong enough to wait.
Strong enough to let her strive to be the person she wanted to be and take her life to the next level, just like I did. Hell, I’d never regret the choice I made to leave back then—I’m stronger now because of it. Chloe needed that too.
So I won’t chase her.
But I will wait.
I’d wait because I felt the change that happened in Chloe’s demeanor last night when we made love.
When we made love.
Huh. I had never called it making love before, but that is exactly what we had done. We didn’t just fuck; it was more than that. And words didn’t need to be spoken from her lips for me to hear them loud and clear. I could feel her words in every touch. See them in every expression she tried to hide.
She loved me. And I loved her. Neither of us said it, but we both knew it. I was an idiot to doubt that for even a second.
This wasn’t the end of us. It was the beginning. And I had every intention of seeing this story through.
If I ever saw Maya again, I’d have to thank her. Because without her, I would’ve never seen the signs or known what to do.
I’d have to let Chloe go for today because that’s what she needed me to do. But I would never give up on her.
Chapter Three
~Chloe~
The moment I stepped outside and breathed in the fresh, icy air, I remembered that Matt had driven me to his house. Which meant I had no car of my own to get home.
Shit.
I stuffed my hands into my coat pockets, tucked my chin in my coat’s collar, and began to walk through the brisk winter air, passing the same neighbors I had observed through Matt’s bedroom window less than twenty minutes ago. Now that their snowman was finished, the father and his children laid with their backs in the snow, staring up at the gray sky with smiles on their faces and laughter in their voices as they extended their arms and legs up and down, back and forth, making snow angels on the ground. I watched the children squeal in delight and scramble into the house when their mother opened the front door and announced, “Hot cocoa is ready!”
I didn’t realize I had stopped walking and had started gawking at them until the mother’s gaze caught mine. When our eyes met, she gave me a genuine smile, and called out, “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
Her husband and kids went into the house, while she continued to hold the storm door open, waiting for my response.
Something about her smile comforted me.
Something about her serene disposition consoled me.
Something about her optimistic nature put me completely at ease.
This perfect stranger’s entire demeanor made me feel the way my own mother used to make me feel whenever I was hurt or insecure.
In this moment of utter devastation after saying goodbye to the person who meant most to me, she made me feel…hopeful.
I glanced down at the snow angels, then up to the cloudy sky, and I wondered for a moment if, after everything that had happened this morning, I could truly believe that today still held some beauty.
My stare wandered to Matt’s bedroom window. Part of me expected him to be standing there, watching me…waiting for me to come back to tell him I had made a mistake.
But I hadn’t made a mistake.
And we both knew it.
When I saw that he wasn’t there, that the space on the other side of his window was empty, a familiar loneliness entered my heart. But unlike all the other times, it didn’t paralyze me or bring fear or anxiety with it. It didn’t make me want to take drastic measures to drive it away. Because even though it was over between us, Matt had given me something during the time we had spent together. Something that had been missing from my life since the day I caught my sister with Ryan.
He had given me the confidence to believe in myself. Believe that if I wanted to, I could have the life he thought I deserved. A life that included respect, dreams, goals. And maybe someday, I’d even be ready for love. Ready for him.
“Yeah,” I slowly nodded to the woman. “I suppose it is.”
She smiled a goodbye, and I mirrored the expression just before she turned away to enter her house, closing the door behind her.
I continued my walk down the block, estimating how long, exactly, it would take me to walk home from here. An hour? The streets had been plowed, but only about half of the sidewalks had been shoveled. Maybe an hour and a half?
Damn.
I sighed, bracing myself for the trek home. The air was calm but cold. As my ears started to sting and my nose began to drip, I thanked God again that I had opted for Uggs instead of high heels yesterday.
I didn’t get far before I heard an engine approach from behind me. Through my peripheral vision, I could see it slow down to my walking pace, the passenger-side window rolling down.
“Get in,” a woman said.
Was she talking to me? I cautiously turned to face her to find out. Yep, her baby blue eyes were on me alright.
“Excuse me?” I replied.
She leaned over the console of the maroon SUV, her naturally tight brown curls pulled up into a high ponytail, a few wisps covering her forehead. Her friendly eyes smiled, “Look, your boyfriend wants you to have a ride home. What do you say we give him what he wants?”
“Uh…excuse me?” I repeated.
She laughed, “I’m your Uber driver. If you accept this ride, you’ll get a warm drive home, and I’ll get a tip that will pay my phone bill. I could use the cash. And by the looks of your shivering lips, you could really use the ride. Are you in?”
As I began to recognize exactly what was happening, I looked back to Matt’s empty window and smiled. After leaving him this morning, he had every right to hate me. But he didn’t. He still cared.
God, I loved him.
“Yeah,” I said, pushing back tears. “I’m in.”
As I took a seat in the SUV, the woman extended her hand and said, “I’m Carrie.”
“Chloe,” I replied, shaking her hand, having no idea that this woman would eventually become my closest friend.
Chapter Four
~Chloe~
Carrie and I hit it off from that very first car ride. From her witty humor to her brutal honesty, everything about her was authentic—a quality I loved. In a moment when I could think of nothing but the look on Matt’s face when I left, she found a way to distract me without even trying.
During the twenty-minute ride home, I learned that she was the single mother of a ten-year-old girl, trying to make ends meet.
“Wow,” I said when she divulged that bit of information. “You look way too young to have a ten-year-old.”
“I’m twenty-seven. I was sixteen when I got pregnant, and seventeen when I had my daughter,” she explained. “Her father and I married when I was eighteen.” With sadness in her eyes, she added, “I loved him so much.”
“Is he not in the picture?” I asked, immediately covering my mouth, embarrassed at my intrusion. “I’m sorry,” I added. “Sometimes I don’t have a filter. It’s none of my business. You don’t have to answer that.”
She smiled, “It’
s okay, really. I don’t mind at all. My husband was a police officer. He died in the line of duty two years ago. It’s been just me and Piper ever since.”
“What about your parents? Do they help?”
“They live across the country,” she answered, seemingly unfazed by my questions. “They’ve been asking me to move back home so they can help me, but I just can’t bring myself to rip Piper away from the school or the friends that she’s grown to love, just to make my life easier. She’s lost enough already, you know?”
“Yeah. I do,” I whispered.
After a pause, she softly asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” I replied. “I’m so sorry. I’m wasn’t trying to compare my situation to yours. I can’t even begin to imagine what it would be like in your shoes.”
She nodded, eyes on the road. “But you know what it’s like…to lose someone. Am I right?”
I pressed my lips together tightly, afraid that if I spoke, the floodgates would open, and I’d let out all the anguish I’d been holding in. With tears stinging my eyes, I simply nodded.
“I understand,” she acknowledged. “You don’t have to tell me anything. Hell, you barely know me. But I’m a pretty good listener if you do.”
For barely knowing this woman, she had an incredible way of making me feel completely at ease. I couldn’t tell her about Matt. That story was too fresh—the wound too raw—to touch. But I did entrust her with the story of my parents and sister. In fact, I shared more with her than I had shared with anyone—other than Matt. I hadn’t confided in another woman like this since the betrayal of my sister. It felt liberating to tell my story…to say it out loud to a girl who’d listen. Not to mention one who listened without judgment.
The more we talked, the more I realized that something about our conversation was therapeutic. It reminded me of the talks I would have with my sister before my relationship with her fell apart. And I had a feeling that Carrie felt the same way. By the time she pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building, we felt like we’d known each other for years, and something compelled me to write down my phone number.
Like me, she was alone.
Like me, her heart had been broken.
As I handed it to her, I said, “If you ever need help with anything, or if you just need a break, call me. I’m happy to help in any way I can.”
She took it and nodded, “Thanks, Chloe.” She opened her mouth to say something else but changed her mind at the last minute, politely smiling instead.
“What?” I asked.
She sighed, handing the piece of paper back to me. “Here. I really appreciate the gesture, but—I know I’m not going to call you for help. To be totally honest, I’m way too stubborn for that. My responsibilities are my own. My daughter is my life, and I love her more than anything. Sure, it can be hard sometimes, but my obligations are not a burden to me like they would be to someone else. To me, they’re a privilege. It was a nice thought, though. Thank you for that.”
I nodded in understanding, “Well then, how about you just call me when you want to have a girls’ night out.” I paused, realizing that she may not have anyone to watch her daughter if she went out. “Or a girls’ day in. You, me, and Piper. We could paint our nails and drink mimosas or something equally girly. Well, maybe mimosas for us and kiddie cocktails for her.”
She smiled, processing the idea. “Sounds like fun.”
~~~
A week later, she called. They came to my apartment with, the most delicious brownies I’d ever tasted. I met Piper, the spitting image of her mother, except for her straight hair, which, I learned, she got from her dad. Our afternoon consisted of nail painting, drink sipping, brownie eating, and laughter.
The three of us grew closer after that, spending more and more time together. It even came to a point where Carrie felt comfortable asking me to watch Piper while she took Uber requests. And although I never expected her to because I truly enjoyed spending time with Piper, Carrie always repaid me with homemade baked goods. Cookies, cupcakes, you name it. The woman had a natural gift for making deliciously sweet things.
My clubbing nights drifted away, the need to use men and alcohol to satisfy some hollow void vanished. Being with Matt had changed me. My short time with him had filled me with something that had been missing. Something that my vices could never quite reach. He gave me a reason to care…about life. About others. About myself. He gave me the confidence to not need the acceptance of anyone. He made me think about my own future.
I never stopped missing him or wishing things between us could’ve been different, though. In fact, I thought about him all the time. Not being with him hurt. But he had given me the strength to push through the hurt and keep moving forward. For me. For him.
Two months after meeting Carrie, I came home from Luciano’s to find an eviction notice taped to my door. The property owner had declared bankruptcy, and the apartment complex had gone into foreclosure with the bank taking over ownership. The notice from the bank said I had thirty days to move out.
The old me would’ve panicked. The old me may have even had an anxiety attack. But while the news did briefly upset me, I had come to a point where I had grown enough confidence to know that I could handle it. I had a few hundred dollars saved that I could use for the move, and even if I couldn’t find the perfect apartment, there had to be something out there, even if it would be temporary.
The morning after finding the notice, I met Carrie at The Roasted Bean House, a local coffee shop, for a late breakfast. Piper had spent the night attending he classmate’s sleepover birthday party, which meant Carrie would have to leave to pick her up soon.
After eating, we sipped our coffees and searched for apartments. She used her phone to search apartments.com, while I searched Craigslist on mine. After inquiring about several of the properties we’d found, calling some of them and finding something wrong with each and every one of them, Carrie finally looked up from her phone and said, “I’ve got an idea.”
“Does it include me living in my car?” I interjected. “Because I think that’s what I might have to do for a while. I mean, I guess it would be okay if I can find somewhere to take a shower until I find a place. I can rent a storage area for my stuff and—”
“Chloe, stop it,” she objected. “You’re not going to live in your car. Listen, there’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, since before I even met you actually, and with your eviction, I really think it would be the perfect solution for both of us.”
Curious, I raised my brows. “What is it?”
“Look, it’s no secret that even with my bakery job and Uber, I still struggle to meet my bills every month. I know it’s unrealistic to think that I can live in my house forever, but I just haven’t been able to give up on it yet. I mean, it’s the house that Nolan and I bought together when we got married. It’s the only home Piper remembers. I can’t take it away from her yet, and to be honest, I’m not ready to lose it either. So, a few months ago, I came up with the idea to get a roommate to help with the bills. I posted an ad online and interviewed a bunch of women, but none of them felt—I don’t know—right. I didn’t feel comfortable having any of them living in the same house as my daughter. So, I gave up on the idea and started putting in more Uber hours instead.”
She bowed her head and sighed. When she looked back up at me, her eyes had glossed over. “The thing is,” she continued, “my working so much is affecting Piper. It’s affecting our relationship. Her grades are slipping again, just like they did when she lost her dad. The light in her eyes is fading too, just like it did two years ago. She’s regressing, and I know it’s all my fault for not being there for her when she needs me most. We’ve done a lot of healing in the last two years, and I’m so scared that we’ll lose all the progress we’ve made together.”
My heart hurt for her. I knew exactly what Piper was going through. I had gone through the same thing with my sister when my parents die
d. I don’t know how Brynn had found a way to be there for me and work to keep the house at the same time, but she did it. In getting to know Carrie and the struggles she went through after the loss of her husband, I appreciated my sister’s sacrifices more than ever.
“So, long story short,” she resumed, a tear escaping down her cheek before she quickly wiped it away with an embarrassed laugh, “I would love for you to move in with us. Will you be my roommate? I mean, please don’t feel pressured. It’s only if you want to.”
Warmth encircled my heart as I scooted out of my booth seat and slid next to Carrie, wrapping my arms around her and squeezing her tightly.
“Yes,” I whispered, thankful that this wonderful woman came into my life. “Of course, I will.”
Chapter Five
~Chloe~
I had no idea when I moved in with Carrie that she was an American Muscle fan. Up until now, I had made a point not to watch it. You know, for self-preservation. The first few weeks after I left Matt were hell. I couldn’t listen to the radio, with its overwhelming about of sappy love songs, without breaking into tears. Couldn’t lay in bed without wishing my head were resting on his chest. Couldn’t pass Ricci’s in my parking lot without thinking of the night we broke bread. And I sure as hell couldn’t watch the TV show that Matt had agreed to be part of.
Even after months of close friendship with Carrie, I couldn’t bring myself to talk about him with her. The memory of him was still too fresh. Still too devastating. The thought of him made me more emotional than I was willing to feel. Gave me more sadness and regret than I could deal with.
“Wouldn’t you rather watch Dancing with the Stars or something?” I asked as I washed the final dirty pan from our supper. If only Matt could see me now. I never cared about messes before, and I certainly never cared about dirty dishes, but since moving in with Carrie, I wanted to do everything I could to carry my weight in her home. Including washing dishes.
The Fragile Line: Part Three (The Fine Line #4) Page 2