Uncut (Unexpected Book 4) (59 page)

A
s I arrive home, the early rays of sun stream through the blinds illuminating the empty house. My choices are to head upstairs and catch up on some sleep before I head back to the office, or go through the many emails I ignored yesterday. The second option wins, because who the fuck am I kidding? I haven’t slept well since Thea’s revelation came to light.

Shit, so much has happened since that day. I rub my chest, trying to release some of the hurt that remains from . . . losing him. Motherfucker. The ease with which he gave up on us still stings. Tossing our happiness because he can’t push his
hard limits.
He left when we needed him the most, when our lives were shifting. Thea found her father, she’s soaring as a counselor, and . . . well that’s about how much I’ve gathered from the few conversations I’ve had with her.

Remorse floods my thoughts as I remember I missed yet another trip back home and didn’t make time to tell her. Massaging my temples, I walk into the library where my father has his piano. I need to lose myself for a while, find some music to take away the pain. God, Tristan isn’t the only one. I’ve fucked up so badly lately, but it’s hard for me to keep my shit together when Transcending is going through so many changes. After the latest numbers, Gabe stepped back into the offices and gave me one of those “what the fuck are you thinking?” lectures. It turns out that when he said, “The company is yours,” he meant it. It’s mine to do whatever the hell I want with it, as long as it succeeds.

Translation: I’m busting my balls to recover the ground I lost, assigning new jobs to the ex-board members, and relocating the company. All while producing, directing, and writing new shows that are streaming online, and searching for new scripts. With that load, I barely have any time left for my personal life.

Before I lose myself inside my music, I take out my phone to call my girl. I am pulling her up in my list of contacts when I hesitate. As much as I hate to admit it, our last conversation was awkward as fuck. The space of everything that we haven’t dealt with—that we miss—is expanding between us. I know we need to talk. She keeps telling me that we do. But tonight . . . tonight is not the night for all of that. I think better of it and decide to fire off a text to her instead.

Matt: Hey, just got home after a long day at work. Sorry I missed this weekend’s trip but it’s busy at the office.

I’m a cowardly fuck. Flipping through her pictures, the sense of grief and loneliness grabs hold of my heart and takes all the air from my lungs. I love her so much. I miss her. But calling or seeing her right now means either putting on a happy face or dealing with our mounting problems and I just don’t have the energy to do it.

Butterfly: Maybe next week?

Shit.
She’s awake. I hoped she wouldn’t be, that by the time she answered I could ignore this text. Rising from my seat, I walk to the big window. The ocean view doesn’t help me forget, doesn’t ease the pain. It brings back memories of everything that can’t be fixed, of what we lost.

Butterfly: I miss you.

Matt: I miss you too, baby. How about I check the schedule when I go back to the office in a couple of hours? If all fails, you can fly to meet me when I head to Vancouver.

That’s not for another three weeks. Should be plenty of time for me to gather strength, to get back to my old self.

Butterfly: Sounds like a plan. Maybe later tonight we can chat over the phone?

Matt: I’ll call you, but I’ll text if we pull another all-nighter.

Butterfly: You need to rest, Mattie. I’m worried about you, baby.

Matt: Nothing to worry about, Butterfly. Hate to leave you, but I have to take a quick nap. I love you.

Butterfly: Love you too.

Setting my phone back inside my pocket I decide to forget about my bed and release some of the anguish I carry inside me through my music. Let it flow through the wind.

I sit on my chair, my head lying on top of my arms. My heart heavy, defeated by the loss I’ve experienced in the past months. Tristan left us, and Matt . . . he’s barely with me. I miss them both, and I can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. It feels like the pain will never go away. In fact, Matt’s absence intensifies it every freaking day.

As I wallow in self-pity, my phone buzzes.

Pria: You available?

I dial her number right away. “How’s the tour?” I ask when she answers the phone.

Pria has been touring with Jacob for the past few months. We try to speak on a daily basis; sometimes it’s during the day, and sometimes it’s in the middle of the night. I’ll take her call at any time. She’s the one person who I can vent to without restraint.

“I don’t know, this life is insane, Thea.” Pria sounds happy on the other side of the line. “One night he’s singing in Bangkok, the next we’re in Shanghai. We have time to visit a few touristy places but my life is jumping from one plane to another.”

“Sounds awesome; maybe next time you’ll take me as your assistant,” I joke, laughing as I consider how my father will react if I tell him I’m touring around the world. The man has bodyguards following me every day to ensure there’re no reporters hounding me. “Jetting off sounds like what I should do about right now.”

“How are you, Thea?” Her voice is serious. “Any news from Tristan?”

“Nope. As expected, he vanished.” I close my eyes for a few seconds trying to bring him a little closer but I can’t. Tristan is gone. Pria is the only one I can talk to about that part of my broken heart. AJ’s my friend, but she hates Tristan right now. Matt avoids coming home, and when he’s in town, he avoids anything that has to do with our ex. “It’s been three months and it still hurts. How long does it take to forget?”

“I don’t know. When I lost Jacob it took me . . . I never forgot him.” She sighs. “Once you give away your heart it’s hard.”

“I know. Damn it. Matt hurts too. He doesn’t say anything, but I know he does.” I let out what I fear the most. “I’m losing him too, Pria. Matt. Every day, I feel as if he slips away a little bit more. As if we’re heading toward opposite directions and nothing I do or say can stop the motion. He’s too busy lately to come over on the weekends. I’ve gone to Vancouver twice to visit him but something is missing between us.” My head falls on my desk. “Do you know anything about Tristan? You know, since your husband is his business partner.”

“If I didn’t know about your relationship, this would sound insane.” She laughs. “Pining for a guy while dating an awesome one too. Sorry, it’s funny and ridiculous. I heard that his dad is on bed rest. He broke his hip during the heart attack.” Pria lowers her voice. “Look, Thea, Matt loves you and one thing I know is that when a Decker hands you their heart, it’s forever. You’re not losing him, just try to talk it out.”
Right
. Talk it out. I bite back the words. Matt doesn’t want to talk about anything lately. How am I supposed to talk about us? “As for Tristan, he has been in Hartford since then. His father’s company is a mess. Jacob has been helping him with a few investments. I’m working on their brand, switching the old for the new.”

After she gives me that quick update we move on to her schedule for the next few weeks. Her sister, Maeve, might travel to catch up with them in the near future. The plans they have after the tour. And then I end my story with a sour note.

“My mother called Dad; she wants to see me.”

“Arthur being your father hasn’t sunk in yet. You’re all sweet and smiles; he’s frowny and freaking scary.” Pria laughs and I look at the picture I have on top of my desk. Our first family picture: Mason, Dad, and me. AJ took it because we need memories. “So, what does your mother want?”

“She checked herself into rehab, so I guess to talk.” I let all the air out of my lungs, along with my frustration. “This isn’t the first time and I really don’t want to go through the same shit over and over again. How many times can I let myself hope before I really break down?”

“As many as she needs. You said it before, she’s sick, right? I’m here to catch you, sweets. Try one more time.” Pria says.

“True, I needed a reminder.” A light knock on my door reminds me that my break is over, and my four o’clock is here. “Gotta go, Pria. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, and don’t forget second chances are good for the soul.”