Chapter 4 The Line We Crossed

(Fiona's POV)

He touched my arm today.

Just a graze. Nothing obvious. Nothing anyone else would've noticed. But I felt it, and I noticed the emotional attraction between Lachlan and me. It's getting uncontrollable as the days pass by. It's very troubling, and that was the problem I tried to avoid.

Still wearing the black pencil skirt and silk shirt I had worn to the office, I stood in front of the window of my room in Lachlan Mansion. The city outside blinked with cold lights and quiet streets. Inside? Everything was loud.

I kicked off my heels. Peeled the day off like it didn't belong on me. Like maybe if I shed enough layers, the guilt would come off too. But it never did, and I felt so terrible.

I gazed at my reflection in the glass. My lips, my hair, and my eyes were red from holding back whatever this ache was inside me.

"This wasn't the plan,"

I came here for the job. For the clean slate Isla promised me. For the peace I hadn't felt since leaving Canada behind.

Not to fall for him.

Not Lachlan. Not her husband. A knock broke through my spiral thought. I straightened and sat up, trying to adjust my position.

"Come in." Kirsten opened the door and leaned against the doorframe, looking at me anxiously. "It seems something is bothering your mind, Fiona?" She made a concerning comment. "Just tired." I responded without looking at her direction.

She stepped in and shut the door. No judgment in her eyes-just that annoying way she had of seeing straight through me.

"You're still thinking about him." I nodded slowly because I couldn't deny the obvious. I Looked emotionally exhausted as I sat on the edge of my seat trying to tug at the hem of my blouse as if it might reveal something valuable. "He asked me to dinner." I murmured.

Her brows arched. "And?"

"And I said yes."

Kirsten gave a slow, dangerous smile. "About time." My laugh came out broken. "It's not funny."

"I'm not laughing. I'm serious. You've been punishing yourself for years, Fi. For what? Being human? For wanting something that isn't tied up in guilt and sacrifice?"

I shot her a glare. "He's married to Isla, my best friend, remember?" "She hasn't been your best friend in a long time." Those words stung. I looked away. "She pulled strings to get you this job," Kirsten said. "Sure. But she also threw you into a cage. You think she did it for you?"

"She helped me."

"She tied you to him."

Silence.

"Look," she said, softening. "You didn't steal anything. Not yet. Not really. Even if you did, perhaps it's time for you to treat yourself well". My heart pounded at those words. Take something for myself for once.

She glanced down. "You gonna wear the red dress?"

My head jerked toward the closet. The red one was already hanging on the door. I hadn't decided. Maybe I had. "You deserve to feel wanted, Fiona. Not just useful. Not just loyal."

"I don't want to play the bad girl."

"Then quit acting like the supporting role in your own life."

With that, she was gone.

That night, I was worried, and I couldn't sleep. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw Lachlan's face. The way he looked at me when he thought no one was watching. Like I was a secret he didn't regret.

The next evening came fast. I slipped into the dress. It wasn't just red. It was bold. Defiant. The kind of dress that didn't whisper-I'm sorry. It screamed-I'm here.

My hands shook as I walked into the restaurant. Heart in my throat. Mouth dry. And there he was. Lachlan Hartman. Power in a suit. Control in a chair. And yet, the moment our eyes met, all that cold strength softened.

"Fiona," he said, rising. "You look... stunning." I sat before my knees gave out. "Thanks." He pulled out my chair like we were something innocent. "I'm glad you came," he said. "I wasn't sure you would."

"Neither was I."

He tightened his jaw. "I don't want to cause you any more trouble. However, I must mention this. I've made an effort to ignore this-us-but I'm at my breaking point. You're in my head, and sincerely speaking, I have tried so hard to take you out of my head."

"Stop."

"I won't." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Because you are the one I love, Fiona. Even before Isla. I didn't understand it then. But I do now."

My breath hitched. I looked away. His fingertips touched mine as he reached across the table. But it was only a flicker. Enough to send fire up my arm.

"I'm not asking for forever," he said. "I'm asking for honesty. Even if it's in secret. Even if it breaks the rules."

"You don't get to say that. You're married." I protested. "I know and I do, but what if this thing.... This feeling about us... what if it's real?" "I don't know, and I'm scared," I whispered.

"Of hurting her?"

"Yes. Of that. Of you. Of what this will do to me." He nodded. "Then let me carry some of your fear, I promise to take responsibility."

Really?? I blinked fast, holding myself together by a thread. "Um... I don't know, Lachlan."

"I do. I'll wait. As long as it takes."

I walked home alone. The red dress clung to me beautifully, as if it were a choice I had fully made. Every step felt like I'm falling deeper into this tempting threshold... this betrayal game. Every heartbeat is like a countdown.

But for the first time...

I wasn't sure I wanted to say no.