Page 80 of Embrace Me Forever

“You’re his friend. Of course you’re on his side!” I argue, feeling the ‘bro code’ vibe playing.

“I’m not taking sides here,” Rob responds, his tone fatherly, quashing my argument. “I just don’t want you to look back with regret. Blake is a good man. Just give him a chance.”

I fall silent, my mind a clump of conflicted emotions.

“Talk to him, please,” Rob coaxes. “Just look at him.”

Reluctantly, I lift my head. Blake stands a few feet away, the embodiment of sorrow. For such a large man, his presence seems diminished, almost as if he’s physically crumbling underthe heft of his remorse. His eyes, usually so full of life, now project the hollows of his heart.

I open my door, and Rob is instantly by my side, his actions protective as he opens it wider for me. He escorts me toward Blake with a solemnity that feels as momentous as a father walking his daughter down the aisle.

“You okay?” Rob checks in, his voice laced with concern, ensuring I’m not about to retreat.

“Yeah.” I nod, more to convince myself than him.

“Coco and the rest of us will be waiting for you. When you’re ready,” he adds with a reassuring smile and a wink, as if to remind me that no matter what happens here, I won’t be alone.

“Hey…” Blake’s voice quivers.

“Hey,” I reply in a whisper, my eyes flickering toward Rob as he discreetly moves away, giving us space.

Blake steps closer, reducing the distance between us. “I’m sorry, Georgia-May,” he starts, his gaze locked intently on mine, “I overreacted.”

I offer a slight gesture, appreciating his straightforwardness. “Perhaps you did.”

“The moment I saw you with Christian Cartwright in that changing room, I…I lost it,” he confesses. “I felt cheated. Images of you slipping away from me—they looked so real.”

“He caught me by surprise, too, Blake,” I say, desperate to convince him of the innocence of that encounter.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, his eyes searching mine for forgiveness. “Rob and Clay, they mean a lot to me, and when I heard about those pings, I jumped to conclusions. I thought Bertram was already destroying Hartley Marine, and I didn’t stop to think things through.”

“The Hartleys mean a lot to me too. And yet, they have more faith in me than you did!” My words are not meant to wound but to underline the hurt his doubts have caused.

Blake looks stricken, his struggle palpable as he grapples with the reality of my words and his own misjudgments. The air between us is charged with a tumult of hurt and hope, each seeking solace in the other’s eyes.

“I was wrong, Georgia-May,” Blake confesses. “I was blind. For God’s sake, I was jealous! I understand now that Christian Cartwright is just a friend. But I can’t help it. The truth is, I’m jealous of how much Sebastian was, and still is, a part of your life.”

“Of course he is, Blake! He’s not just my dead boyfriend.” I recall how easily he said those words. “I loved him! Before you, I was never with anyone else but him.”

“Georgia-May…” His voice trails off, a blend of regret and understanding.

“I don’t know how your relationship was with Flo, but you’re not the only one losing someone in such a cruel way. When I said sorry to you about your loss, I meant it. And you know what, I wish someone had said sorry that I lost Sebastian!” My words dissolve into a screaming sob, raw and piercing.

Blake doesn’t say a word; instead, he steps forward. He wraps his arms around me, an embrace that pulls me into the haven of his chest. It’s a silent contact, but the way he holds me speaks to the depths of his care. As if each fold of his embrace is weaving a tapestry of apology, understanding, and a silent promise to bear the weight of my sorrows with me. In this moment, encircled in his arms, the world falls away, leaving only the poignant truth of our shared pain and the fragile hope of mending hearts.

“I didn’t even tell my sister about him,” I murmur, my voice muffled as I tremble with sobs, my face buried in the solidness of his chest. “Do you know what I told her?”

Blake loosens his hold slightly, allowing me to tilt my head as if urging me to open up fully.

“I told her I had a one-night stand with a stranger. I didn’t want her to get tangled with Bertram. The less she knew, the better. So to her, Coco is a daughter I had with a man that could’ve been any random passerby.”

Putting those words in my mouth makes it even feel more wrong, and my God, it hurts. I clench a fist, pounding with no force against his chest. Blake lets me, then slowly wraps his palm around my fist, taking my hand close to his lips. He kisses my knuckles.

Looking me in the eye, no doubt, no hiding, he says, “I’m sorry you lost Sebastian. I mean it, Georgia-May. Not just as a mere formality or a hollow olive branch.” His words are emphatic yet gentle.

“I saw him being dragged out of the cottage that held so much of our memory together. And I just ran. I don’t even know what they did to his body.” The horror of the memory makes my voice quiver.

“You had to do what you had to do,” he reassures.

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