Page 148 of Unexpected

The rain dinging off the car, along with the low hum of the music, kept me company on the short drive. My thoughts were in a million different places, and it was nice to get lost in them as the buildings and numerous other cars on the road flew past.

My thoughts first drifted to Michael, but I knew thinking about him would only lead to panicking about something that was well and truly in the past. So, instead, I acknowledged each feeling—terror, guilt, hope, anger, and so many others—and let each of them pass like a wave breaking over the shore.A technique one of those podcasts recommended.

My thoughts about Valerie were more chaotic, and the feelings were scrambled up in what I felt for Luke. But I knew everything with her would end one way or another. My mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario, but I didn’t survive an abusive ex-fiancé to be taken down by my boyfriend’s abusive ex-wife.

And Luke didn’t endure everything with his parents and Valerie to have to worry about her any longer.

When I pulled up to the quaint restaurant, I had decided that I would tell Luke that I loved him that night. Whether it seemed too early didn’t matter much anymore, and I felt positive the feeling was mutual. Life was too short to pretend like it wasn’t what I felt.

The exterior of the restaurant was a red brick that looked like it had been restored within the past several years. I double-checked the street number on the gold plaque next to the door with the address in Blakely’s text before I got out of the car and slung my purse across my body.

The rain had let up enough that I didn’t need an umbrella, I just quickly scurried under the awning in front of the door. The black metal doors were heavy, but after a tug, they opened, and the warmth enveloped me.

“Hi, just one today?” a tall blonde woman asked from behind the hostess booth.

“I’m actually meeting a friend, but I’m not sure if she’s here yet.” I peered around the wall dividing the entrance from the rest of the dining room and searched for Blakely’s distinctive dark hair and defined bone structure.

“Did she make a reservation?” the hostess asked as she began tapping at the screen in front of her.

“I’m not sure. It may be under Blakely?”

“Oh, yes. She hasn’t arrived yet, but I can take you to your table now.”

“That would be great, thanks,” I said, returning her smile and following her between the tables.

It was an older building that had been renovated with industrial and contemporary touches in the fixtures and furniture. It fit well within the gentrified area of the city.

“Here you are,” she said with a bright smile, motioning to the round wooden table tucked in the back of the restaurant.

“Thanks,” I said, returning her smile and taking one of the matching wood chairs.

She handed me one menu while she sat the other in front of the spot across from me and pointed to the drink specials on the small table tent. With another bright smile, she let me know that our waiter would be there momentarily. For longer than necessary, she stood there smiling at me expectantly. When I realized she wasn’t walking away, my eyes darted around, wondering if I’d missed something. Or maybe the answer to why she was still standing there would be found at one of the other tables near us. I gave her a hesitant smile, and she finally skipped off like she could think of nothing more rewarding than seating the older couple that had just walked in.

The entire time her smile never faltered, and I felt like I wasn’t in on the joke.

Before I opened the menu, I found my phone in my purse and texted Luke to let him know that I had made it to the restaurant. He’d be in surgery for likely more than an hour, so I wasn’t expecting a response. I placed my phone screen down on the table next to me and picked up the menu.

It was several pages long, and I wasn’t even halfway through when the waiter stopped by to take my drink order. He gave me water when I told him I’d wait for Blakely and added his recommendations for his favorite dishes.

Further into the menu and several minutes later, I was growing more nervous that Blakely hadn’t shown up. I peeked at my phone and didn’t see any missed texts or calls. Although it’s hard to detect a person’s real feelings and intentions over text, she seemed genuinely interested in talking and starting over. I was beginning to think the worst had happened, and she was stuck in a ditch somewhere and had even begun typing out a concerned text when the chair across the table was pulled out.

I looked up from my phone, smiling that Blakely had finally arrived, only for the corners of my mouth to drop immediately upon seeing her.

Her black hair was slightly curled, and she was wearing a dress I had contemplated purchasing only a few days prior after seeing it online. If it hadn’t been for her red-rimmed eyes that were wide with what I could only describe as pure, outright fear, I wouldn’t have known anything was wrong.

“Blakely,” I whispered, reaching for her hand that lay on the table and trembling so hard that it moved the wood underneath it.

She jerked her hand back and her eyes widened even more.

My heart thudded in my chest, sensing her fear.

She took in a quick breath and said in a breathy voice, “I’m so sorry. Don’t scream.”

It was the last thing I heard before there was a sharp stabbing pain in my neck, a cold heat radiating from the point, and then utter and complete blackness.

FIFTY-TWO

Luke

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