Page 23 of Blake Marshall Says He Needs Me

I didn’t blame her, but all that had come out was me blaming her.

My heart ached at the loss of Sheldon, but also the loss of Shannon.

I hadn’t just lost my brother that day; I had also lost my future with Shannon.

Chapter Thirteen

Shannon

I sat in my car, parked down the street from Missy’s place, and tears blurred my vision. The words Blake said hung heavily over me. He still blamed me for Sheldon’s death, even though he knew he wasn’t my fault.

He hurt so bad that he had to blame me. He had to have a target for his pain and grief. It was me.

I had run.

I couldn’t bear the burden of his blame any longer.

The rain started to fall, droplets trickling down the windshield like tears streaming down my face. The rain washed away the once happy and fun evening.

I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles white, as I replayed the painful conversation in my mind. He deserved what you got.

No matter how much I wished I could change the past, the reality was that I couldn't undo the tragedy that had taken Sheldon away from us.

Blake's blame felt like a relentless storm, tearing through the fragile walls I had built around my own guilt and grief. Running away seemed like the only option, a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating atmosphere of blame and accusation.

I flipped on the wipers, and they swayed back and forth, attempting to clear the raindrops.

My car was a cocoon of solitude. A place where I could allow my emotions to spill freely. Each sob that escaped my lips was a cathartic release. The pain I had been carrying for years.

I knew deep down running from Blake wouldn’t solve anything, but at the moment, it felt like I needed to distance myself from the raw emotions that were consuming him.

My eyes focused on the wipers. With each swipe, they brushed aside the rain.

I needed that.

I needed something to help brush aside the pain for me and Blake.

We had both lost Sheldon and now we needed to find life beyond him.

Chapter Fourteen

Blake

I sat across from Wilder in the dimly lit bar on the main street of Adams. The weight of grief and guilt bore down on me, and I couldn't keep it bottled up any longer.

Shannon had taken off a week ago, and I hadn’t gone after her. I had let her go, and it was eating me alive.

He deserved what you got.

My words replayed in my head over and over. I should have explained; I should have told her she deserved the life she had, too.

“Wilder, I don't know how to get past this,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “I know it wasn't Shannon's fault. It was that damn drunk driver. But every time I look at her, all I see is Sheldon.”

Wilder's gaze softened, understanding the pain etched on my face. “Blake, losing your brother like that is unimaginable. It's okay to feel angry and hurt. But you can't keep blaming Shannon for something she had no control over.”

“I know, I know,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I paid thousands and thousands to a therapist to understand it wasn’t her fault. I believed it, too, but then I saw her and everything just came crashing into me. I loved her, Wilder. I wanted a life with her before the accident. I was only eighteen and barely knew what love was, but I felt it with her. But now, every time I close my eyes, I see Sheldon. It's like I'm stuck in that moment years ago.”

Wilder leaned forward, his expression serious. “Blake, you lost your brother, and that's a pain no one can take away. But you're not the only one who suffered that day. Shannon lost her friend too. It's a shared grief, and blaming her won't bring Sheldon back.”

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