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Blake:If yes, I can get us in at Cibum Optimum
Me: You are being too nice to me
Me:I feel like I’ve been a bad lawyer and friend lately
Blake: You’re neither of those things
Blake:We’re both busy people. I get it
Me: What if I need to cry on your shoulder for advice?
Blake: I have big shoulders, and I’ll bring tissues
Blake: I’m honored you’d ask
Blake:You’re not asking advice from Astrid
Blake:I think I know what this is about
Blake:I’m happy to be here for you
Me: That means a lot. Thank you. See you at 11:30
Blake:thumbsup emoji
I set my alarm for ten, roll over, and go back to sleep.
The restaurant is full of the delicious scents of spices and garlic. I approach the maître d’, about to give my name when I spot Blake. The maître d’ escorts me to the quiet corner table, and gestures for me to sit, then excuses himself as I drop into the chair opposite Blake. “Thank you for meeting me. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
Blake smiles and shakes his head. “No. I just got here. Let’s have a look at the menu and then you can tell me what advice you need from me.”
After we review the lunch features and place our orders with the server, Blake pins me with a look. “Rough night?”
“Very. I had a bit of a pity party for myself after one of the most difficult weeks of my life.” I glance out the window to get my emotions under control.
Blake takes a sip of his sparkling water and gives me a minute. “This is about Gunnar, right?”
For a moment, I’m shocked he knows there’s an issue with Gunnar since Blake doesn’t really interact with him. But he could have found out from Astrid or Stef. I fiddle with my water glass, then dive right in. No sense beating around the bush. “I’m so angry with him. Yes, what happened to Bjorn was scary and stressful, and I know he has PTSD from when his mother was stabbed, but he cut me out. He didn’t allow me to help him deal with it.” As I talk through everything, the fury bubbles up again, and I know it’s justified. But then it fades. “But I miss him terribly. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen him, and my heart hurts.” I sigh and slump in my seat. “I’ve been at war with myself all week about what to do.”
Blake nods and holds my gaze. “What options are you considering?”
“Tell him to lose my number and fuck off. Or forgive him and tell him to come over and hold me.”
Blake makes a humming noise, like he’s considering what I’ve said. “And which way are you leaning?”
I look everywhere but at Blake. “Well, I may have spoken to him last night on the phone and told him I love him.”
Blake coughs to cover a laugh. “You may have?”
I glare at him. “Okay, I did tell him.” Blake raises his eyebrows. “I actually yelled it at him, if you must know. Followed by telling him I don’t think I want to see him again.” I set my elbows on the table and bury my face in my hands. “What do I do?”
He reaches across the table, taking my arm. “Jocelin, only you can make that decision. But if it’s any consolation, Astrid says he’s miserable.”
I look up, hating the idea of Gunnar being miserable because of me. “That isn’t consoling. I don’t want him to be hurting. He’s been hurt enough in his life. He should be happy.” I realize I’m defending him and stop. “What would you do in my place? What if Stef had done this to you? What would you do?”
Blake frowns. “Stef and Gunnar are two extremely different people. I can’t imagine a scenario when Stef would do this to me.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together like I’ve seen him do a million times in negotiations. “My initial reaction as your friend was outrage for you. I thought Gunnar was being childish and hurtful. But I’ve had a conversation or two with Astrid.” He holds up a hand. “Nothing too personal, but she let me know about what happened with their mother and the coping methods Gunnar had in college. And I think I have a better grasp on things.”
I lean in, hoping Blake has some kind of wisdom for me. His expression is serious, but I can see the sympathy in his eyes. “Gunnar handled this latest situation poorly, but I believe he didn’t intentionally hurt you.” He gives me a knowing look. “And you don’t believe he did it intentionally, either.” I feel my cheeks heat because he’s right. “Was he insensitive and self-centered? Absolutely. No doubt. But was he in a place to make sound decisions? No. He was trying not to lash out, and the only way he knew to do that was to remove himself from possible targets.”
