Page 78 of Embrace Me Forever

“Rob, take me back to Coco, please,” I quaver.

Rob, the man of few words, gives me a look of disapproval, perhaps conflicted about being drawn into this emotional whirlwind. Yet, he rises to his feet, meeting my gaze, signaling his readiness. He extends his arm toward the door, indicating it’s time to leave this place behind, at least for now. His actions speak of loyalty, a silent vow to stand by me, even when the path I choose isn’t one he would walk himself.

27

BLAKE

I’m drowning in guilt. Georgia-May walked in here full of hope, the light of triumph in her eyes, but I couldn’t face her—not yet. Not after all that has unfolded.

As a private investigator, I live by two uncompromising principles. Assume guilt until innocence is proven, and regard partial truths as complete falsehoods. Deviation from these rules is a dangerous game. Yet, here I stand, faltering against my own discipline.

The weight on my conscience isn’t just about her mistakes or her secretive dealings with Cristo. It’s deeper than that. It’s about Sebastian, about my own errors in judgment, about my failure to discern the full truth. The bitterness of being wrong taints even the sweetest victories, leaving a lingering aftertaste that no success can cleanse.

I stand motionless inside the spare office, my silhouette casting a reflection against the dark waters of the Pacific Ocean, a view that has become all too familiar after a decade with the Hartleys. My image appears distorted in the glass, a warped parallel of myself that I’m hesitant to confront.

The space feels too large for just Clayton and me within its walls. Beside me, he stands, the very image of restraint, his eyes on the expansive wall of windows. Restlessness takes over, and I begin pacing, my hands buried deep in my pockets as if I might unearth hidden answers there.

Then, a knock interrupts. Clayton pivots to meet Thomas at the door. Their conversation is a subdued murmur.

As Thomas departs and Clayton shuts the door, he turns to me with reassurance. “The man himself confirmed it. No harm done.”

If Thomas said so, I trust him. The guy is a cyber genius. No digital trickery can slip past him.

“I’m relieved,” I say, feeling the tension melt from my shoulders, yet a weighty sense of responsibility lingers. “But preventing crises like this is precisely why I’m here. And I’m not just talking about thwarting cyber-attacks. That’s not my specialty. I mean averting the kind of trouble that comes from those we trust.”

“Blake, don’t.”

“How can I trust her again, Clay? How do I even trust myself?” My voice breaks as I recall how I opened up to her, shared things about Flo I’ve never told anyone else. But in return, she held back, weaving her secrets behind a veil of half-truths. That stings. It’s not outright betrayal but sly contempt that sends alarm bells clanging through my mind.

I add, “I’ve let you and Rob down in the worst way.”

Clayton’s expression softens as understanding colors his features, but the reassurance I crave feels just out of reach. “You’re too hard on yourself, Blake.”

“Yeah, well, perfection is the only game I know how to play,” I reply. “Otherwise, I might as well pack up and leave.”

Clayton steps closer, clapping a firm hand on my shoulder. “Look, you’ve been our shield more times than I can count.Remember the mess with Amber’s ex? How he nearly destroyed everything? If it wasn’t for you, who knows where we’d be? She might not have made it back.”

I shake my head, weary. “Clay, you don’t need to make me feel better.”

But Clay’s resolve doesn’t falter. “And what about me and Isabelle? I almost let her slip away. Remember Alaska? She was pregnant, hiding, barely surviving? You stood by me through it all—right to the ends of the earth. And not just figuratively. We went to your ends of the earth to save her.”

I remember that moment, and I never regret it. Not even once.

He reaches out and flips my hands over, exposing the network of scars across both palms. “These scars aren’t merely marks, Blake. They’re proof of the extraordinary lengths you’ve gone for all of us.”

I appreciate his reassurance, yet his timing couldn’t be worse, touching on a topic I’d rather avoid. My frustration bubbles up, raw and unguarded. “I hate being wrong, Clay! I gave her a chance. I gave you and Rob reasons to trust her. She gave me reasons, too, but in the end, I’m no different from any other man. History is relentless that way.”

“No one enjoys admitting they’re wrong, tough guy. Remember this—you’ve always prioritized Rob and me, often at your own expense. It’s time to consider putting yourself first.”

Clayton’s presence feels like that of an older brother—even though I often see him as the baby of the group when it comes to life experiences. Being Rob’s younger brother and quite the Casanova, he has matured significantly, and no doubt Isabelle has played a significant role in these changes.

After a moment of silence, he speaks up, “Blake, I know things are tough, and you’re questioning trust and past decisions. But remember all that Georgia-May has contributed,not just the problems. I’ve never seen you as content as you’ve been with her.”

“Yeah. Because I was known as the infamous one-woman man,” I reply, the sarcasm more for myself than for him.

“The past is the past, including Georgia-May’s mistake. As I told you, Blake, no harm done to Hartley Marine. You don’t owe Rob and me anything. But, man, you owe it to yourself to try.”

It’s tough to absorb his words, but deep down, I recognize their truth.

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