Page 122 of When Fate Breaks
“Remy is an exceptional young man, but a man is only as good as the woman he chooses to share his life with.” Redness blossoms at my cheeks as I give Chuck a tight smile.
“So, if everyone could please raise their glasses, or bottles, or whatever you have,” Chuck chuckles, holding his beer bottle in the air. Remy does the same next to me. My stomach is doing backflips, nausea flooding every part of me. I suddenly spot my dad across the room leaning against a pillar, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans. He has an expression I can’t read across his face. His lips are just barely pulled up at the corners, but his eyes hold more sadness than I’ve seen in a long, long time.
“To Annie,” Chuck continues. “And to Jeremiah, my son. You’ve made this family proud. Here’s to the soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Van der Michael.”
24
SIX YEARS AGO
He hates me.
It’s written all over his face.
“Blake,” I breathe. I hardly recognize the boy before me. He is older. Taller. Stronger. And so much more handsome than I thought imaginable.
And so completely and utterly destroyed.
His blue-green eyes are glassed over, somehow emotionless and full of every emotion at the same time; the outer corners are red and puffy as if he’s been crying, bruise colored circles lying beneath them. His jaw is hard and set, his neck strained with tension. He’s wearing a white dress shirt, the sleeves cuffed and pushed up to his elbows and the top four buttons unfastened, revealing the tan skin of his chest. He’s still in a pair of light wash jeans, but he’s only wearing socks on his feet, as if he’s in for the night. My heart drops at the realization he had dressed up for me. The pressure in my throat swells, guilt weighing heavily on my chest.
Blake says nothing, practically looking through me as I stand dripping and shivering in the hallway of this four-star hotel. “Can I come in, please?” I whisper.
“Why?” Blake asks, his voice harsh. “Did we have plans or something?”
“Blake, please–”
Blake turns away from me, walking back into the room and letting the door fall shut in my face. I reach out and catch it just before it clicks shut and push my way inside after him. “Blake, I’m so sorry–”
“You’re sorry a lot. Anybody ever told you that?” Blake’s back is to me, but I see him setting down a bottle, throwing a glass of light brown liquid back as I approach him.
I run my hands down my face. “Please, just let me explain–”
Blake spins around, cutting me off. “You know what? I don’t really want to hear it, Annie.”
I rear back, feeling as if I’ve just been stabbed in the chest.Annie?My mouth falls open, tears spilling over.
“Are you serious right now?” Blake asks, his spine stiffening.
I shake my head. “I–”
“You have me drive five hours on the anniversary of my dad’s death,” Blake grits out. “After barely talking to me for the last year. After forgetting my birthday. You have me drive out here. Make plans with me. Give me one ounce of hope that you might…” he pauses, shaking his head. “One ounce of hope that you might feel afractionfor me of what I feel for you.”
My jaw drops further, my brows raising.Wait, what?
“Then you ghost me all day,” Blake continues. “Leave me sitting at a hole-in-the wall pizza restaurant waiting nearly an hour and a half for you like an absolute freaking idiot–”
“Blake, I didn’t mean to–”
“Andyouhave the audacity to cry right now?” Blake fumes, staring at me incredulously.
I drop my head, wiping the tears away from my face and stepping closer to Blake. He instantly takes a step back in response, making my stomach drop.
“Blake, you have every right to be upset. I’ve royally fucked up, okay? I know that. But…I didn’t mean to. You don’t understand. I wanted to be here so bad, but so many things happened. My phone didn’t charge last night, and I didn’t have a single second to look at it today because of the conference, and then it died, and then my boss introduced me to an executive that works here in New York and– Blake, they were gonna give me the job. I couldn’t just leave. I had to go with them. And then I had no way to contact you, and then it started raining and I didn’t have cash for a cab– And this last year, you know things have been crazy with senior year and the internship and–”
I cut off my ramble when Blake’s stare becomes too intense to continue any further. I look at him expectantly, breathing hard and waiting for him to say something. But he doesn’t, so I continue. “Look, Blake. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know another way to say it. I wanted to be here for you so badly. I still do. But I understand if you can’t forgive me. I understand if you hate me–”
“Hate you?” Blake blinks at me, his gaze going ice cold. “Hateyou?” he repeats, shaking his head. My brows pull together as I stare back at him. “You have no freaking clue, do you?”
“Of what?”
