Chapter 32: If the Sun Never Sets: Chapter 32

Farrah went to see Blake the next day.

She was tired of waiting for him to reach out, and she needed clarity before her paranoia drove her crazy. It didn’t help that she was still reeling from her revelation of how easily he’d burrowed himself inside her heart a second time.

Then again, he’d never left.

But when Blake swung open his door, Farrah wondered if she’d made the wrong decision.

Because the man standing in front of her? She didn’t recognize him.

He had the same golden hair, crystal eyes, and sculpted muscles, but his playful, cocky smile was missing in action, and he surveyed her like she was a stranger.

Blake, normal Blake, never looked at her like that.

Don’t jump to conclusions.

“Hey.” Farrah flashed an easy smile even as her heart thumped in warning. “Haven’t heard from you in a while so thought I’d swing by.”

“Sorry.” He stepped aside to let her in. “I’ve been busy.”

“I figured.”

The smell of booze assaulted her the instant she walked into the apartment. Farrah wrinkled her nose. What the—

Her eyes widened when she saw the pile of empty beer and whiskey bottles on the kitchen counter. She whipped her head toward Blake, who watched her reaction with curious apathy.

He didn’t appear drunk. No slurring of the words, no unsteadiness on his feet, no redness in his face. Then again, Blake was the type who could be hammered, and you wouldn’t know it unless he threw up or passed out.

“What’s going on?” The unease in her stomach spread. “Is everything okay?”

Blake had been fine when he left for Texas. Something must’ve happened, either with his bar or his family. He didn’t have a great relationship with his father.

Something flickered in his eyes. “I’m fine, but I’d rather be alone. It’s a whiskey and me kinda night. No intruders allowed.”

His cool, dry delivery made his words sting even more.

“You’ll drink yourself to death.”

Blake shrugged.

Frustration curled in her gut. “What happened in Texas?”

“What makes you think something happened in Texas?”

“You left as your normal self and you came back—” Farrah stopped before she said something that’d put him on the defensive. “Is it your dad? Did he say something?”

“It’s not my fucking dad.” Blake’s eyes sparked. Finally, a hint of life. “He’s the least of my problems.”

“Then what is it?” she asked softly.

“None of your business.” His jaw clenched. “I mean it. Leave now.”

Her chin angled at a stubborn tilt. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Dammit, Farrah.” Frustration leaked into Blake’s voice and broke his icy facade. “Stop being so stubborn. This is for your own good.”

Indignation sparked in her chest. “Then stop treating me like a child. Tell me what’s going on and let me decide for myself. I’m a grown woman. I can decide what’s good for me or not.”

“Fine. You want to know what happened in Texas?” Blake closed the distance between them, and Farrah gulped at the sheer pain radiating from him. She wanted to grab him, press him tight to her chest, and never let go. Not until that pain disappeared. “I realized you were smart not to trust me.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “You never should’ve accepted my job offer, even though I insisted. You should’ve taken one look at me that day at The Aviary and walked the hell away.”

A vice wrapped around her throat and squeezed. This conversation wouldn’t end well. Farrah could feel it in her bones. But there was no way to go but forward, even if it meant falling off the cliff. “Why?”

“Because I’m not a good person. I’m a selfish bastard, Farrah, and when I want something, I’ll stop at nothing to get it.” Blake’s eyes brewed with regret. “I wanted you, more than anything, and I pursued you, even though I knew I didn’t deserve you. Even though I knew I’d hurt you one day. So, this is your chance to leave before that happens.”

Too late. He was already hurting her, slicing her open piece by piece. With his words, with his bitterness, with his belief that he wasn’t good enough.

This was the part of Blake most people didn’t see. On the surface, he was confident and self-assured, but underneath the polished veneer lived a boy filled with doubts and insecurities, who was afraid he’d never be able to live up to the expectations the world had of him.

Farrah loved both parts equally—if he would let her.

“You’re a good person to me,” she whispered.

“For now.” Blake rested his forehead against hers, his face taut with torment. “You don’t know the thoughts that run through my head. The things I’ve done. I always end up hurting the people I love, and the scary part is, I almost never do it on purpose. It just happens. Walk away from me now, Farrah, before you’re in too deep, and I break your heart again.”

The backs of Farrah’s eyes burned. “You say I don’t know the thoughts that run through your head? Tell me. You say I don’t know the things you’ve done? Show me. Let me in, Blake. Don’t push me away.”

A frustrated groan rose in his throat.

Blake wrenched away; his warmth disappeared, and merciless cold rushed to fill the void. Its icy needles stabbed at Farrah’s skin until they pierced all the way to her heart.

“I can’t.” The emotionless mask was back.

“You said you loved me.” Farrah gave it one last shot. “You were the one who asked for a second chance—and I gave you one. You said you’d changed, and I believed you. You want me to trust you again—but how can I do that when you yourself don’t trust me enough to let me in?” Her gaze drilled into Blake’s, willing him to back down, to open up, to do anything except stare at her with those vacant eyes. “Blake, it’s me. You can tell me anything.”

The seconds ticked by.

Farrah’s breath stuck halfway down her throat, unsure where to go given the apprehension gathering storm in the air.

“I do love you.” Blake’s voice cracked. “That’s why I’m letting you go.”

The breath released as a sob.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

She should’ve known better, but she did it anyway.

Farrah fell in love with Blake, again. And he broke her heart, again.

This time, it wasn’t because of his cruel words and heartless dismissal. She believed him when he said he loved her, and when he said he thought she deserved better.

No, what hurt was knowing Blake’s love wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough for him to let her in, and it wasn’t enough for him to fight for her. He loved her, yet here he was, letting her go.

He thought it was noble? She thought he was a fucking coward.

Blake was taking the easy way out instead of allowing Farrah to see the darkness within him. Even though she wanted to see it. Darkness didn’t scare her. A part of her reveled in it because it was only under the cloak of darkness that people dared show their true selves. Everything—the good, bad, and ugly—came out at night. But contrary to popular belief, those ugly parts didn’t detract from a person. No, they made them whole, and there was nothing in this world more beautiful than completeness, nothing more breathtaking than knowing someone loved every last bit of you—including the pieces you hated about yourself.

If the sun never sets, the stars will never shine.

But Farrah would never be able to show Blake the beauty of darkness. He wanted all of her but refused to give her all of him, and she could tell by the stubborn set in his jaw and the flintiness in his eyes that there was nothing she could say that would make him change his mind.

If she told him she loved him, that would only make him retreat further.

Something else brewed in her gut next to the hurt: anger.

“That’s your final answer then?” Farrah’s voice was lava, hot with fury until it cooled and hardened with a thick, hard crust. “You’re letting me go because you quote-unquote ‘don’t want to hurt me?’ Without even telling me what brought this all on? Without even trying to make it work?”

Blake didn’t answer. Other than a convulsion of his throat, he just stood there like a beautiful, emotionless statue, carved out of marble and cold to the touch.

There was nothing left to say.

Farrah stepped around him and twisted the doorknob.

Stop me.

The hallway’s plush carpet muffled the sound of her footsteps as she walked toward the elevator.

Trust me.

She pressed the “down” button, her eyes burning so wildly the flames engulfed her entire body, and she tasted ashes in her mouth.

Fight for me.

But Blake never did.