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“I built this house for you, Kinley. It was never mine.”
“No! You built this house for the family that we don’t have. The one I can’t—”
“Maybe you can have Jax move in since he’s always here to pick up the pieces for you.”
“Fuck you!”
He didn’t hesitate, ripping our photobooth pictures in his hands.
“Noooooo…”
He tossed them on the floor in between us, and they scattered to the ground.
“I can’t believe you just did that. Those are the first pictures we ever took together, Christian. How could you do that?”
He got right in my face, backing me up against the wall. “The same way you could just rip apart our marriage and then throw it away like it meant nothing.”
Tears slid down the sides of my face, and he took one last look at me, spewing, “You wanted this. Remember that. You have no one to blame but yourself, sweetness.”
I winced. It was the first time he’d used my term of endearment in such a hurtful way. My chest rose and fell, feeling like I was going to crumble to the floor at any second.
“Get out,” I hissed, not wanting to see his face anymore.
“With pleasure.” He spun around and left.
I jolted when I heard the front door slam before my feet moved on their own as if I was being pulled by a string. Falling to my knees, I grabbed all the pieces of our pictures from the photo booth that night.
I couldn’t believe he’d tore apart our past.
But I was tearing apart our future.
The irony was not lost on me.
Holding the torn images in my hands, I was shaking as I tried to put them back together on the carpet. Except now, they weren’t flawless and beautiful. The one that caught my attention the most was the photo where we were kissing. It had one huge tear down the middle of our faces.
Symbolizing how broken we truly were.
Piece by piece.
Bit by bit.
We were figments of who we used to be.
Throwing me right back to that night.
When he once again stitched my heart back together, not caring I was the one who was broken.
Chapter Seven
—Kinley—
Then
It was the annual back-to-school carnival in Fort Worth, and everyone from our small town was there to celebrate the end of summer. Usually, I avoided this fair like the plague, but Christian was insistent on us going and wasn’t taking no for an answer. Since that night on the lake two months ago, we’d spent almost every day together when I wasn’t with Jax.
I could immediately tell that Christian didn’t like our friendship, not that I could blame him. We were best friends, and with all the rumors about us, I knew he had concerns but hadn’t mentioned them yet. I was aware it was coming, though.
Christian and I were getting closer, and the more time I’d spent with Jax, the harsher his tone would become when he’d call me to hang out. The second I said I was with Jax, it was like night and day with his voice. He was biting his tongue, biding his time to bring it up ,and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t doing the same when it came down to asking him what we were doing and where this was going.
