Page 134 of When Fate Breaks
I don’t know exactly what conversation Blake is intending to have here, but I know I probably won’t like it. So, I start my own. “The greenhouse looks great.”
“Thanks,” he replies quickly, impatience lacing his voice. “Where’s Remy?”
I pause, letting out the lightest sigh I can manage. “Out,” I say, continuing to move through the row, my gaze downcast.
“Evangeline?”
My spine steels as I realize he’s much closer now. “Yes?”
“Can you please look at me?”
“Why?” I ask, my fingernails digging into the wood of the table.
“Because I want to talk to you.”
“Wearetalking.”
“No, we’re evading.”
My lips press together. After several seconds without a response from me, Blake speaks again.
“Evangeline, please.”
I close my eyes, letting out a much deeper sigh this time, before slowly turning to face Blake for the first time. He stands about six feet from me, his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks. The sleeves of his dress shirt are pushed up to his elbows and the front is now unbuttoned, showing his white tank top underneath. His mouth is twisted to the side and his eyes are full of so many conflicting emotions. I swallow against the lump in my throat, waiting for him to unleash, but what he says next, and the pure and utter softness of it, completely catches me off guard.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” Blake says. “About your mom.”
I blink several times, my mouth drying. “It’s okay.”
“No. It’s not.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Lots of people’s parents get divorced.”
“Well, not a lot of people are you.”
I stare at him, my lips falling open and closing again several times as my brain tries to process my many combatting thoughts.
“Please use your words,” Blake says.
My arms fall to my sides. “I feel ridiculous accepting your pity,” I blurt. “For even comparing the loss of my mom to the loss of your dad. It’s not comparable.”
“Evangeline,” Blake says, taking a small step forward. “Just because I may have been in a full body cast at some point doesn’t mean your newly broken arm doesn’t hurt.”
My head tilts, taking in his metaphor.
“Never feel ashamed or unvalidated in the way you feel,” he continues. “You’re allowed to feel. You’re allowed to hurt. It’s what makes us all human at the end of the day.”
I feel my bottom lip start to quiver, and bite down on it to stop it. I look down at my feet, blowing out a breath, before I meet Blake’s eyes again. “I– I’m sorry,” I stutter. “For not telling you.”
Blake’s eyes flick calmly several times between mine, and then he asks, “Why didn’t you?”
“I told you. I wasn’t ready to. Not for weeks after I found out. It all just happened so fast and I needed time to process it and be there for my dad and Steph. It took several days before it even seemed real and then several more before the real pain of it all actually set in. It was all I was thinking about. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about it. I don’t even think I wascapableof talking about it until around the time I went to New York.”
“Why didn’t you tell me then? In New York?”
My brows pull together. “When would I have done that?”
“Whenever. At any point. Thenorafter.”
