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“I wanted to know if this was real. If you’re really standing here outside of my apartment because tonight, I served soup to your fiancée. Your fucking fiancée, Blake.” My chest heaved, the words crushing me all over again. “So ask me again why I’m sure this must be a dream. That this can’t possibly be happening.”
The blood drained from his face, and he started to reach for me. But I stepped back. If he touched me, the last of my defenses would crumble.
And I had to stay strong.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Sorry?” I repeated, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice. “Sorry for what exactly? The summer? For letting me think you still felt something for me, that after all this time, there was still something real between us?” I threw my hands up in frustration. “Or are you sorry for forgetting to mention you had a fiancée? That you’re getting married. Married, for fuck’s sake, Blake.
“You’re getting married, and you let me believe that you still loved me. That everything we shared, everything I felt all those years ago wasn’t just something my mind made up to cope with all the bullshit life rained down on me. That it was real.”
Somehow, I ended up standing right in front of him.
I couldn’t even remember moving, but before I could think about it, my hands lunged for him. “IT WASN’T REAL,” I cried, throwing my hand against his solid frame. “NONE OF IT WAS REAL. IT WAS ALL A LIE. YOU LIED. I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU.”
My fists pounded against his chest while something cracked inside of me, and ugly sobs tore from inside me.
Standing there, in the back alley of The Oriental Garden and Bernie’s Bar, with the snow falling all around us, I fell apart.
My anger and frustration and hurt over everything that had happened poured out of me as I continued to hit Blake.
I cried for my parents leaving me on this earth alone. For Blake abandoning me when I needed him most. I cried for Derek ruining my chances of ever having a normal healthy relationship. For everything that had been and all the things I would never have the chance to be.
And Blake let me.
He didn’t try to stop me or comfort me or fight me off. He just stood there, taking each pound of my fist against his sweater. And when I was emotionally exhausted and had nothing left to give, I collapsed against him.
Wrapping his arms around me, Blake lifted me up and carried me up the stairs to my apartment. He managed to dig my key out of my purse and opened the door, carrying me inside.
I clung to him like he was my anchor, the only thing stopping me from drowning. As he lowered me to the floor to find the light switch, I whimpered. The loss of his touch physically hurt, and although my hysterical cries had quieted to gentle sobs, I was only one step away from breaking down again.
Tension hung between us, thick and heavy. Blake regarded me, wariness dancing in his eyes. He was probably two seconds from taking off.
I didn’t speak.
I couldn’t.
But I didn’t look away either. Blake’s gaze drew me in, holding me there. If only I could translate what the unspoken words shining in his eyes meant.
He made the first move, stepping toward me. Not enough that I edged back, but enough that if I reached out, I could touch him.
I didn’t.
My arms remained locked firmly around my waist. If I moved them, I felt sure I would fall apart at the seams.
“It’s always been you, Pen.” Blake closed the distance between us, brushing my snow-covered hair out of my eyes. “My lucky Penny. I loved you when we were just two kids lost and alone…”
I squeezed my eyes tight.
This was the part where he would finally be honest and own up to his mistake.
His lies.
This was the part where he would admit he loved Brittany. That whatever had existed between us was in the past.
I held my breath, waiting, my heart beating out of my chest.
Silence filled the room, and then so quietly he said, “And I love you now.”
