Chapter 34
Blakely
Isla sets a mug of warm matcha tea into my hands and sinks into the bright purple velvet couch across from me.
She eyes me solemnly as she pulls a blanket around her shoulders. "Okay," she breathes, "Before I say this, let me preface it by saying that you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. But you're my sister and I love you and I know that you're not happy here...Blakely, you have to go home."
My head throbs. It's been throbbing for the four days that I've been here. This situation with Nicholas is stressing me out. I always knew that if things went south between us, our living situation might get awkward but I didn't know that I'd get hurt this badly. It feels like my heart got caught on barbed wire and it's bleeding out into my ribcage. I can't go home. Every word he says to me is like a boot pressed into my chest.
"I can't, Isla," I say in a weak voice, "I can't face him."
The other night I barely stopped crying for long enough to pour out my heart to her. I told her everything that happened with Nicholas. She's been helping me keep it together. God knows I would have fallen apart already if it weren’t for her.
She sighs. "Has it ever occurred to you that you might have it all wrong? Maybe you’re wrong about Nicholas’ reason for acting the way he did. Maybe there’s more to the story."
I roll my eyes. "Yeh, I'm sure he's at home pining over me right now."
Isla's face goes stern. "I saw the way he looked at you. I saw the way he kissed you. Those weren't the ways of a man who was just after a few wild nights with you. He cares about you, Blakely...He loves you. You owe it to yourself to figure out why he's pushing you away."
I weigh my sister's words. What if she has a point? Am I willing to risk my heart to find out if she’s right?
If this was a romance novel, this would be the point in the plot where the protagonist's secret child or his scheming, blackmailing ex is revealed, or the genetic mutation that is slowly frying his cells and transforming him into a werewolf. But my life isn't a romance novel and Nicholas' only excuse for hurting me is that he's an asshole.
Isla insists, though. "Think about it, Blakely, think about it long and hard."
My mind scans all the morsels of information I know about him and the life he was leading before he came to Reyfield. His family. His mother's string of divorces. His step-sister and the app they built together and sold in exchange for a small fortune. His career. His job at town hall.
Nothing. Nothing stands out. No clues as to why he suddenly stopped wanting me.
I pull the throw blanket hanging off of the edge of the couch and drape it around my shoulders. All the blood drains from Isla’s face. “Hun, I don’t think you want to be wrapped up in that blanket,” she says with a grimace.
I glance down at it confused. It looks perfectly fine to me. “What’s wrong with it?”
Her cheeks go red. Isla never blushes.
Uh-oh.
“Reuben may have fucked me on it the other night when we were hanging out in front of the fireplace. And we may have made a mess.”
"What?!" I drop the sheet like it’s radioactive. "Isla!"
She scoops it off the floor with wistful eyes. "I can’t tell you how many orgasms I’ve had on that blanket…” Her gaze scans the room. “And on that rug…And with my back pressed against that window…” She titters at my shock-face. “Sorry hun, my house is a sex dungeon. Just thought you should know.”
"Maybe I should go home!" I storm toward the guest bedroom in search of my overnight bag.
Her laugh bellows down the hall. "Hey – I warned you. You're welcome to stay but it’s at your own risk."
Within an hour, I'm in my car.
My heart pounds as I drive back to my apartment. The idea of seeing Nicholas again is making me sick with nerves. I have to sit in my parking spot for a few minutes just to get myself together.
When I finally push through the front door, the apartment is dark and quiet. Nicholas' running shoes aren't on the welcome mat. His computer isn't sitting on the coffee table. His shirt isn’t hanging off the arm of the couch.
An uneasy feeling hits me instantly.
Oh god oh god oh god
He's gone.