10. Delaney
CHAPTER TEN
delaney
B LAKE PUT HIS HAND on the small of my back as we walked out of his sister’s brownstone, and I felt it hovering there until we reached the car, making my pulse feel like it was on a roller coaster.
It was good we were leaving. Not because I didn’t have a good time, but because it was starting to be too good. Too comfortable. Too real. I was married to Blake, but I wasn’t married to Blake, and I never ever imagined I’d need to give myself so many reminders of that.
Blake opened the door for me before I could reach for it, and when I turned to comment about his uptick in impeccable manners, he put a warning finger up.
“Don’t.”
“What?” I laughed as I slid into the passenger seat.
He tried to glare down at me, but his lips kept curving without his permission, and it ruined the effect he was going for. “Stop saying shit about how I’m suddenly a gentleman because it’s making me feel like I’ve been an asshole to you for years.”
He leaned over me, resting one elbow on the car and the other on the car door. I had to tip my head back to look up at him. “You’ve never been an asshole to me,” I said because it was true. Blake’s expression smoothed at my words, but then I added, “Just everyone else.” At that, his lips pulled taut, gaze flicking up the sky as if he couldn’t bear to look at me any longer. Then he strode around to the driver’s seat.
“I’m kidding ,” I assured as he slid into the car beside me.
He raised a brow at me. “Somehow, I don’t think you are.”
“ Everyone else is definitely an exaggeration.”
“Sometimes people deserve to be put in their place,” he muttered as he started the car, and the air blew through the vents. I angled them so they hit me square in the face. I’d been overheating since Blake pulled me onto his lap a few hours ago.
“I would agree,” I said with a nod.
“Like when Dr. Arnold tried to tell me the best course of action for that endocarditis patient was to?—”
“I know, Blakey,” I interrupted before he started down a long rabbit hole of doctors he’d clashed with during residency. It was a conversation I was more than familiar with, and we didn’t need to rehash it right now.
His eyes cut over me, glittering. “I’m never letting you hang out with Sully again.”
“Aw, but I really like Sully.”
Blake narrowed his gaze in a silent accusation. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear stick, but we hadn’t moved from our parking spot. Blake was too busy glaring at me.
“Stop,” I laughed, patting him on the arm. “I like my London men all broody and contemplative. Don’t worry.”
But that didn’t seem to appease him. “Does that mean I have competition with Theo?” he asked, his sharpness still targeting me. “You said men .”
“No. I think he still smiles too much for me.”
“ I smile ,” he argued. “I smiled all damn evening.”
“I know,” I said with a grin. “But you’re different around your family.”
“Than I am at work?” He cocked his head to the side. “Well, yeah. I think a lot of people are, Lane. I think the problem is that you think work me is default me. But I think most would consider it to be the opposite.”
I frowned at his words. My work was so intertwined with everything I did and who I considered myself to be that I never really considered that someone might have a split personality like that. Dr. Delacroix was who I was. I didn’t just…turn that off when I left work.
Then again, I’d never really had a reason to turn that off.
Blake watched me patiently, but I could tell he wasn’t waiting for a response. He knew I was working through a reality that wasn’t mine. Eventually, he cleared his throat and said plainly, “It was a nice night. Thank you for doing that with me.”
“Of course. Your family is…” My throat tightened with wistfulness. “So wonderful.”
Putting his hand on my leg, Blake gently squeezed it before returning to the steering wheel. He finally maneuvered out of our tight parking space and pulled onto the road as we headed home.
“They’re your family now, too,” he said after a beat of silence.
I shook my head. “You know that’s not true.”
“It is,” he said forcefully. “Even if you’re not always a London in name, you’ll always be my friend, Lane. And you’ll always be welcome at the London dinner table. Or anywhere else we are. So is Bryan, if you want to invite him sometime, too.”
“I don’t know about that,” I sighed, turning my attention out the window. My stomach was doing all sorts of weird things because of what he’d said, and I didn’t want Blake to see it on my face.
“What do you mean?”
“One day, you’ll get married for real, and somehow, I doubt future Mrs. London will want former Mrs. London coming to the family dinners.” I forced a laugh out, but I knew it wasn’t very convincing. I wasn’t sure why I was even struggling to be convincing. I’d always known Blake wanted to settle down and marry. It was why I’d never asked him to fake-marry me before—so I wouldn’t ruin that for him. But for some reason, the thought of him marrying someone else irked me more now than ever.
Blake was quiet for a long moment, probably trying to figure out how to reply in a way that wouldn’t hurt my feelings.
But eventually, he just said, “I’m not worried about that.”
“Are you ever worried about anything?”
“I worry about you,” he said without missing a beat.
I scowled. “You don’t need to do that.”
“I do,” he insisted. “Because you won’t.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I take care of myself.”
“You’re very self-sufficient, Lane. But that’s not what I meant.”
I sighed because I didn’t have a comeback. Not a very believable one, especially since he’d seen with his own eyes the mess that was my cheap, rat-infested apartment that I picked because it was the only option that left me with income to invest in my future clinic plans. And while I was surviving just fine in that apartment, I couldn’t exactly say I was thriving or even doing moderately okay.
“I, uh…” Blake started, and I swiveled my gaze toward him, mostly because I was curious about the odd tone of his voice. His expression didn’t give anything away, though. It was focused on the road. Serious. Attentive. Very Blake-like. He cleared his throat. “I heard what you said to Gemma. And I just want you to know that you can have your career, save the world, and live for yourself, Delaney. If you want marriage and kids…I just don’t think you have to pick. Or if there’s something else you want, you can have it.”
He pressed his lips together to signify he was done talking. Or maybe it was to force himself not to say anything more. There was a part of me that wished he would keep talking so I would have an excuse not to respond. An excuse not to think too hard about what he said.
But Blake remained quiet.
And so I said the only truth I knew at the moment.
“It’s easy to want a family when you were born in one like yours, Blake.” I swallowed, trying to soothe the sudden scratchiness in my throat. “It’s more complicated for me.”
Blake nodded with understanding. I didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t push me for more. He never did. I didn’t like talking about my family, and he never made me unless I offered it up willingly. And thinking about my family after spending time with his felt so much more painful.
There was a reason I wanted this inheritance so badly. My brother was the only one who loved me with the kind of love the Londons had for each other, and I was doing this for him. Outside of Bryan, my cousin Ophelia was the only friend I had to talk to growing up, but my aunt sent her to a boarding school in Europe when I was ten, and I rarely saw her after that. We still stayed in touch, and even now, I considered her one of my only friends, but we lived in different worlds. And that would never change.
“You’re right,” Blake finally replied. And he sounded so serious that I didn’t even tease him for admitting I was right about something. “I can’t and I won’t pretend that your upbringing wasn’t different from mine, and I can only imagine how that has impacted you, Lane. But I just want you to know… my family? We’re not perfect, either. I’ve never really admitted it before, but my parents getting a divorce wrecked a part of me. I mean, yeah, for the most part, it was an amicable split, but it was still a split. A divide. A shift in the way our family operated. And it felt so wrong because I never saw it coming.”
His words felt like a sucker punch because, to be honest, I’d forgotten that Blake’s parents were even divorced. His family seemed so effortlessly put together that it was hard to believe that, in some ways, they’d been ripped apart.
“I’m sorry, Blake.” I found myself aching to touch him, to reassure him, but I wasn’t sure that was a good idea. I’d touched him a lot today, and that touch was growing more confusing by the minute. “I didn’t mean to undermine your experience like that. I’m sure that must have hit you hard.”
“It was just a shock,” he admitted. “I grew up wanting a love like what they shared, to build a family like they had. And it felt a little like I’d been lied to because suddenly, they just…weren’t in love anymore? I didn’t understand it, even though I found myself in the middle of it. Saw my parents act in ways I didn’t think was possible. I don’t think Nat or Noah even realize everything that happened. That’s okay, though. I’d rather they didn’t. I think our family has stayed together so well because my other siblings don’t realize.”
I couldn’t help it. I reached over and put my hand on his leg, wanting him to know I was there. Blake automatically covered my hand with his, giving my fingers a squeeze.
“But that didn’t change your thoughts about marriage at all?” I asked thoughtfully. “I feel like children of divorce are sometimes more like…me.”
“You mean, scared of commitment?” Blake challenged, giving me a side-eyed look.
But I shook my head. “I don’t think commitment is what I’m scared of.”
Blake thought about that for a moment before saying, “True. You’re actually incredibly committed as a person. Just not to dating.”
I was thankful that at least he could acknowledge that. I stuck to things, and I wasn’t scared to stick to things. I hoped my friendship with Blake stuck for a very long time. It wasn’t commitment.
“I’m more, I don’t know, scared of a love that won’t last,” I said, my voice feeling a bit raw from what I was admitting. Vulnerable. “When you don’t see it echoed in the way your family treats each other, it’s hard to believe it’s real. That we should risk our livelihoods for something that might ruin us in the end.”
“You’d think I’d be like that, too.” Blake shrugged as his lips pulled tight like he wasn’t happy about either my words or his next ones. “But my parents’ divorce became more like a personal challenge, in a way. Like I’m trying to defy that reality. Prove them wrong in some way. Which is ridiculous, but…” He drifted off with a shrug.
“You’ve always been a touch competitive like that,” I said with a soft laugh.
“I am the eldest of four brothers and a sister who is literally the smartest person I know.”
He smiled. I smiled. Then, both our smiles faded. I realized my hand was still in his, and I slowly extracted it. He let me go.
“Blake?”
“Yeah, Lane?”
“You know it’s not a competition, though, right?”
“What isn’t?”
“Love.”
He blew a breath out between his teeth. “I know. Which is a good thing since I think Noah would have already won.” Blake’s words were said with the slightest edge. A touch of bitterness that I never would have expected. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so fucking happy for my brother. But he never even…” He broke off, shaking his head. “Never mind.”
He felt guilty saying it aloud, but I didn’t.
“He never even wanted a relationship or a family, and he landed himself with both.”
Blake grimaced. “I’m a jealous asshole.”
“You’re not an asshole,” I said with a sigh. “You’re a good guy who deserves everything he wants and more. Maybe just…smile more at work. Be a bit more approachable, yeah? I bet you could have your pick of cute nurses or trauma surgeons or anesthesiologists. The hospital is a minefield of intelligent, hardworking women.”
Blake pursed his lips like he was considering my advice. “There is this smart, pretty cardiologist, but I heard she’s married.”
I rolled my eyes, even as my stomach twisted unpleasantly at the thought of another woman working so closely with him. It was obviously inevitable, but I didn’t like thinking about it. Or visualizing it. Or hearing him talk about it. I cleared my throat, trying to sound neutral. Slightly teasing. Our norm. “Stay away from the married ones, Dr. London.”
Blake gave me a funny stare before he just shook his head. “Noted,” he said. “Why don’t we focus on one thing at a time? Starting with our honeymoon.”
“Yeah, I hope you’re good with Photoshop,” I snorted, relieved that this conversation was taking a different turn.
Blake’s brows furrowed. “Why?”
I thought that was obvious.
“Because you’re going to have to photoshop a picture of us in front of a field of tulips to send to your siblings.”
A soft chuckle slipped from Blake’s lips. “No, I’m not.”
“Then you’ll have to figure out a different plan because you’re the one who decided to tell them you’re taking me to Europe next week to see my favorite flowers.” I gave him an accusatory look, but he didn’t notice, his gaze still trained on the road, remaining focused on the bumper-to-bumper traffic. “I don’t know what you were thinking with that, Blake.”
“Don’t worry,” he said simply. “I have the perfect plan.”
“Thank goodness for that,” I mumbled. I truly didn’t like the idea of deceiving the London family any more than we had to. “What’s your plan?”
“I’m taking you to Europe to see your favorite flowers.”
“Oh, shut up,” I laughed, lightly smacking his arm.
But for a second, I imagined it. I imagined the flowers come alive, the ones I’d seen so still and lifeless on those little puzzle pieces. I imagined them swaying in the breeze while I walked through them, letting my fingers graze the petals. I imagined having the time to do that. To enjoy that.
It was a nice thought.
But it wasn’t reality.
Blake wore a playful grin, his eyes darting to mine before training back on the road. “You think I’m kidding, Lane?”
“I know you’re kidding.”
But his grin only grew, and I felt myself falter for the first time.
He was kidding, right?
I’d better check.
“There’s absolutely no way you’re taking days off work to go on a fake honeymoon.”
“Actually…” he started, drawing out the word in a way that heightened my senses. “There’s no way I’m getting fake-married and not taking my wife on a fake honeymoon.” He shrugged. “I’ll take off as many days as I can figure out.”
My jaw dropped. I actually felt it falling open, hanging on its hinges. I stared at Blake, and he stared at the road, and he had to be kidding, right?
“Who are you, and what have you done with the Dr. Blake London I know?
“You knew the best friend version of Dr. Blake London,” he replied pointedly. “I’m just introducing you to the husband version of him.” When all I could do was gape at him, Blake added, “Besides, I think you forget that while I take work seriously and love my job, I’ve never been interested in being a workaholic. That’s you.”
“Rude,” I scoffed.
But I didn’t deny it.
“I think it’s time I introduce you to a little work-life balance,” he finished. “As your husband, I think maybe that’s my responsibility now.”
My jaw dropped even further. I might have even dislocated it. “Are you taking me on a honeymoon as an intervention ?”
His lips twitched with amusement, and I’d never wanted to punch him like I did right now.
“If that’s what you want to call it…sure.”
“Blake, give it up.” I needed him to stop. Now. “Pulling pranks isn’t your style.”
“You’re right,” he agreed, which only made me grind my molars together. “I’m not much of a jokester. I’m actually a terrible one. Being dead serious is much more my style.”
Oh my God.
“Blake.”
“Delaney.”
“Stop.”
“Not a chance.” We stopped at a red light, and Blake looked over at me for the first time. Our gazes connected, and I realized he was serious about this. “I’m booking our flights to Amsterdam as soon as we get home. We can send your grandparents’ executor pictures from the trip, too. That ought to help.”
“You don’t need to do that,” I insisted, switching my tactics now that I knew he wasn’t kidding. Blake always had this need to save things, fix problems, make everything perfect, but this just wasn’t something that needed solving. We could figure out another way around faking a honeymoon. “You’ve done more than enough for me with this whole marriage business.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I like traveling?” He raised a brow before switching his attention to driving as the light turned green. “Also, you heard Sully. My family already thinks I’m a chump for not giving you a proper wedding. I’m not going to let them think I’m doing the bare minimum for a honeymoon, too.”
“Oh, so we’re doing this to save your bruised ego?”
His dark eyes cut to mine, crinkling around the edges. “You know how important my ego is to me, Delaney.”
“As much as I do know, we can’t just go to the Netherlands.”
“Why not?” he pushed.
But I didn’t really have an answer for that outside of the responsible ones I knew he was likely expecting. Answers that revolved around work. And I didn’t really need to add any more fuel to the fire surrounding Blake’s belief that I was a workaholic, considering he’d already brought it up multiple times in this conversation.
“Because that’s just…that’s just silly.” Wow , great. That was probably the worst reasoning I could have given, but it was also true, right? This was ridiculous . “And you and I don’t do silly things.”
“We did just get married on a whim.”
Fuck.
“Well, that’s…that’s different. It wasn’t entirely a whim. I’d been planning for it. To an extent.” I was losing this argument and fast. “Also I have a…thing coming up I can’t miss.”
“A thing ,” Blake repeated. He raised a brow. “Tell me about this thing, Lane.”
“A benefit thing.” I cleared my throat. “One of the hospital’s biggest donors is hosting. You know, the usual.”
“Sounds very important,” he said, his tone both serious and mocking at the same time.
I elbowed him because he deserved it. “I have to make an appearance, you know that. I can’t miss things like this when I just started. And I especially can’t unexpectedly take time off and miss something like this all in one week.”
He nodded, and I knew he understood, even if he wanted to give me shit about it. “When is it?”
“Thursday.”
“Then we’ll leave after Thursday.”
“Blake,” I groaned, exasperated. But my heart wasn’t really in it. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if a fake honeymoon would be so bad.
On principle, I knew that I shouldn’t let it happen.
But the tiniest part of me was aching to just give in. To stop and smell some fucking flowers—for just once. I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t, but…
“I think doing more silly things is exactly what we need,” Blake cut into my thoughts.
I shook my head because I knew it was hopeless at this point.
“This is an intervention, isn’t it?”
“It’s whatever you want it to be, Lane.” He grinned, and there was something electric about it. His expression was animated in a way I wasn’t entirely used to. He was excited . He really did want to go on this trip. And if there was anything I could get on board with, it was giving Blake something he wanted. “But we’re going,” he added, and the finality of his words sealed the deal.
“Okay, Blake.” There was no denying it at this point. “We’re going.”
But first, I had to figure out how to get the time off for it, and then I had to survive my first fundraising event at work.
Sighing, I braced myself for the week ahead.