There was something majorly wrong with me. I’d flown home with the intention of getting into my car and driving straight over to see Cherry. Instead, I’d driven home and gone straight to my boat. I was still wearing the clothes I’d slept in and flown in. I needed a shower and a change, yet I was speeding to Blaise’s castle. I needed to see him. I couldn’t stay away any longer.

I didn’t even know what I was going to say. I didn’t have anything to say. Nothing had changed yet—lord, help me, I had to see him.

I noticed the improvements to Blaise’s house as soon as I got close enough to see the exterior. Everything was neat and tidy. There were more chairs and a table set up outside. There was even a potted plant. A plant. I tied up my boat and walked up the dock. The damaged sections had been repaired, and those that had been under construction were now as good as new. The place looked beautiful without the holes in it.

The closer I got, the slower I moved. It threw me off to see so many changes. My stomach roiled, and I couldn’t help but think the worst. Since Blaise hadn’t shown up by the time I got to the door, I knocked.

Waiting for the door to open was excruciating. On one hand, I wanted to turn and run, but on the other, I had an overwhelming desire to see him. I needed to know that he was still there and that everything was still as it had been when I’d left. Had he sold the place and moved? I’d only been gone for a few days. He couldn’t have…

When the door was opened by Blaise, I felt so relieved to see him that I threw myself against him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. It took me a moment to realize that he was not hugging me back.

I forced myself away from him, even though my body was screaming not to break physical contact, and forced a smile. “I thought you might’ve moved. Everything’s…”

Seeing that I’d trailed off and was staring behind him, Blaise stepped aside and let me enter. The place was spotless. Not only was it spotless, but it also smelled nice. The piles of dishes and takeout containers and dirty laundry were gone. The boxes of new plates and new clothes were gone. The place smelled sweet and delicious like cinnamon buns. My heart sank.

“What happened?” I jerked around to face him and gestured to the beautiful interior of his home. “Did you hire someone?”

He took a deep breath and blew it out before talking. “Why have you come here?”

I stammered. “I just…I’m back early, and I thought I’d come and see you.”

He nodded and crossed over to a chair. “Things are different, Chyna. I have changed.”

Hearing that statement, spoken so matter-of-factly, felt as though I’d been dealt a physical blow. It was what I had feared from the moment I first saw the new and improved exterior. “You met someone else? Another mate? One who wants to clean up after you?”

He snorted. “No.”

“Then…what?” I wrung my hands together and bit my lip hard before meeting his sad gaze. “What we had was okay, right? We can still do that?”

When he shook his head, I felt his pain wash over me. His, mine, I wasn’t quite sure whose. Maybe both? “I want all or nothing, Chyna. I cannot keep doing that. I cannot be with you for only a short time and then watch you leave.”

“Well, I can’t stay permanently, Blaise. It’s not like that.” My voice had gotten sharp, and I tried to get it under control. “I can’t do that kind of relationship.”

“You do not have to clean or cook if you do not want to. You do not even have to stay here at my castle.” He held his hands out to me. “I can compromise. I can meet you in the middle. But I cannot allow you to keep pushing me away or treating me as though I mean nothing to you. As though I am nothing more than a means to scratch your itch when you are in need. I deserve more.”

“Don’t do this, Blaise.” I sounded desperate, even to myself. “What we’ve been doing…it’s all I have to offer.”

“No.” He stood up. “I want you more than anything in this world, or any other world, Chyna. I crave you. Without you, I am only half of who I was. I cannot continue with what you want, though. I cannot sleep with you and then not hold you. I cannot be denied having a simple conversation with you. I cannot keep my feelings for you hidden for fear of you running away. I want you more than I have ever wanted anything, but if you cannot be my mate—for real—I will have to either find a way to survive without you or, more likely, I will perish.”

Perish? My stomach turned, and I felt like throwing up. Everything he was saying should’ve been music to my ears. It was, deep down, what I wanted to hear. That he hadn’t found someone else and moved on. But I could not seem to get a handle on the panic. He was offering me forever. He was holding out a silver platter with the future on it: family, kids, minivan, the whole nine yards. He was offering me everything. Yet, I was terrified.

What if I kept giving more and more until he slowly controlled me? What if I gave him my all and he left me battered and destroyed? Like my mother.

“Please, Blaise.” I gripped his shirt to feel some kind of stability and blinked back tears. “Don’t do this. Don’t make me choose.”

“If you are not willing to talk to me and love me back, I cannot do this. You must leave. It is too hard with you here.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but no sound came out. The light touch of Blaise’s hand on my back was a light in the darkness, a sign to turn back and rush into it. My feet moved without my mind’s okay. Toward the door, we both went. Blaise stopped at the threshold and my feet carried me out, past it.

When I turned to try to say something, the door was already closing. “Wait, Blaise. Wait a second. I need a second.”

“Go home, Chyna.” He sighed. “Or go see your sister. She misses you.”

The door shut and I just stood there, feeling my own pain consume me so entirely that I wasn’t sure how I was still standing. I wanted to be angry at him. I wanted to lash out and kick at his door, demand he face me and fight. I could feel his pain, too, though. He was crushed that I’d walked out. Because, if I was being honest, that’s what it amounted to. I’d walked out. I’d had one foot out the door the whole time. He’d given me every chance to stay with him, to make a relationship work. I’d chosen not to.

Eventually, I turned around and staggered through tear-filled eyes back to my boat. I got home, somehow, and hurried into my house, just to grab my car keys and head to Cherry’s. I needed my sister.