23. Blake
23
BLAKE
With the past few days spent at Rob’s, the silence at my house is more profound than I remember, more so than when I was its only inhabitant. But as much as I cherished the lively chaos of a big family, it’s time to retreat to the simplicity of my own little trio. Me, Georgia-May, and Coco.
I firmly believe that the title ‘man of the house’ holds its weight, no matter how far civilization progresses. We men are wired with a primitive instinct to provide for, protect, and care for those who depend on us. For years, lacking these responsibilities left me with a void, a hollowness more severe than just the absence of love. Now, with my girls by my side, I’m invigorated with a purpose that completes me. I am fulfilled, useful, and wholly human once more.
Coco’s tired form is nestled against my shoulder, seemingly indifferent to Poppy’s enthusiastic antics intended to welcome us home.
“Mommy?” Coco searches for Georgia-May.
“I’m here, sweetie,” Georgia-May calls from her bedroom. “I’m just getting your crib ready.” Moments later, she sidles up to Coco, her arms flung open. “Want to come to Mommy?”
Instead, Coco giggles and tightens her grip around me, clearly choosing her current comfort over a change of arms.
Georgia-May chuckles, amused by her daughter’s trick. “Oh, you prefer Blake now, huh?”
“That’s my girl,” I whisper into Coco’s tiny ear, a whisper of alliance. “Let’s give Mommy a little break, okay?”
“Love you!” Coco waves at Georgia-May.
“I love you too, baby,” Georgia-May continues to coax her. At this moment, it’s a toss-up. Who’s more adorable, the mom or her daughter?
But Coco isn’t ready to switch. “I want Black,” she declares with innocent fervor.
Georgia-May and I laugh.
“Okay, then, I’ll leave you two be,” Georgia-May concedes with a smile. “Blake, tea?”
“Yes, please,” I respond as Georgia-May heads to the kitchen.
“Love you,” Coco whispers to me, pressing a kiss from her tiny hand to my cheek. Almost instantly, she rests her head against my shoulder, and sleep claims her.
“I love you too, sweetheart.” I kiss her on the crown.
She’s oblivious now, but I wonder what her reaction will be upon waking. It hasn’t escaped me that her friends have vanished as swiftly as they entered her life. The quicker we resolve the issue with Bertram, the sooner we can return to normalcy. It’s time for me to take the lead in hunting them down.
I move into the living room, treading lightly to keep her asleep and notice Georgia-May by the door. She’s given me space to handle Coco on my own, cementing my role as the undeniable daddy, even though the cheeky girl has stopped calling me that.
The hallway light casts a soft glow on Georgia-May, accentuating the shadows beneath her tired eyes. She looks as though she’s been battling more than mere fatigue all day.
She signals for me to follow her to the living room, where a pot of green tea is waiting. She has a special knack for making it, always getting the temperature and strength just right. I’ve set Poppy on ‘listening’ mode, effectively turning her into a toddler speaker system. Any sound she picks up, she’s programmed to alert us.
“What a week.” I sigh, sinking into the couch.
“It was magical. Seeing Anne again—that was amazing.” She rests her head on my shoulder. “Guess what she called you?”
“What?” I brace for some hilariously harsh nickname.
“She said you were a saint.”
The comment catches me off guard, and her seriousness makes me a little uncomfortable. “I’m in her good books now, huh? But you know I’m far from that,” I concede, my thought wondering. “You haven’t told her about?—”
“No, I promised you I wouldn’t tell anyone,” she affirms.
I thank her with a silent nod.
“Anne only sees how you are with me and Coco. Your past is no concern to her. Besides, she’s always had a soft spot for you,” she adds, snuggling closer. “You know, Rob, Clay, Isabelle, and Amber—they really restored my faith in humanity. I mean, you’ve always been there for us, but to see everyone else stepping up, too? It’s like a group hug for my soul.”
Hearing that feels like getting a hug from an angel.
We share a silent peace, simply holding each other. Yet, even in this fleeting moment of peace, I find myself unable to resist slipping into solution mode, disturbed by the injustice of a man somewhere pulling the strings, encroaching on our lives.
Breaking the quiet, I start, “We need to talk about Bertram. Handling his henchmen is one thing, but stopping him for good is crucial. He’s driven by a massive ego, and I need to be close enough to really understand him. To find his weak spots.”
“I agree, but you’re not suggesting…”
“I’m considering a trip to London.”
“No, Blake. There has to be another way.”
“Then how, Georgia-May?”
Her shoulders sag in frustration and resignation. “I don’t know right now. Can we shelve that plan for a bit?”
A twinge of guilt hits me, realizing I’ve ventured into heavy territory too soon. What was I thinking? We were just beginning to relax. I say apologetically, “You’re right. Let’s enjoy our break.”
She inhales deeply, her expression conflicted. “Look, Blake, I understand the need to deal with Bertram, but there’s another matter pressing on me. It’s about Sebastian.”
I hum, acknowledging her need. She had once mentioned that Sebastian was Coco’s father, and he had passed away before she was born. Perhaps it was the fear of what she might reveal next, but I realize that in my eagerness for a fresh start, a clean slate, I never stopped to ask for more. Never questioned the story.
She shifts in her seat, her haze lowering to the floor as though seeking the right words in the wood patterns. “Sebastian was my first, the only one I’ve truly been with before you. We met through gaming, but it wasn’t long before I realized he saw me for who I am, not who I was pretending to be.”
I adjust my position to see her face better. The couch groans under my weight. I remain silent, giving her the space to continue, though I sense a mix of fondness and pain in her. I keep my expression neutral, even though my insides twist with unease.
She pauses, swallowing hard. A sheen of tears glistens in her eyes. My instincts scream to pull her close, to assure her it’s all right, yet I find myself rooted in place, waiting for more revelation.
“He loved me, and I loved him. But his love for me…it cost him his life,” she whispers, her voice faltering on the last word. It’s as if she’s tearing open a long-sealed wound, exposing its rawness. I understand the burden of such confessions. I’ve faced similar demons with my own haunting past, my own losses.
“He knew about Bertram’s plans to win me back, to use me once more. That night, I told him about the pregnancy. He was overjoyed. I even proposed, and he was eager for us to marry immediately.”
She’d proposed to him? I’m not surprised. It only underscores how much he meant to her. As she recounts this memory, I’m drawn into her words, picturing that moment. How I wish it had been me who brought that kind of joy to her life. How I wish I were the one destined to make her the happiest woman in the world.
Georgia-May continues, “Then, without hashing out any further details, he insisted we leave England for America, a foreign world to him.” She exhales a wistful sigh. “But before we could act, Bertram’s men stormed in. Sebastian managed to smuggle me out, sacrificing himself to confront them. He stood no chance. They shot him.”
The depths of Bertram’s cruelty aren’t lost on me. Taking lives is part of their repertoire, including those of their targets’ loved ones.
Reaching out, I cover her hand with mine. She looks up, a flicker of surprise in her eyes as if she hadn’t anticipated my gesture. In many ways, we are alike. I lost Flo, and she lost Sebastian. I’m a firm believer in second chances because I’ve been granted a few myself. Love isn’t about finding that one perfect person. It’s about understanding and accepting each other’s scars, both old and new.
Tears spill over her lashes, and she lets out a shaky breath as she leans into my touch. “They won’t hesitate to kill you, as you know.”
“I know,” I respond. “Sebastian would have done everything in his power to protect you. I’m not here to overshadow his bravery, but I am determined to stay alive for you.”
“But you look worried,” she notes, her voice tinged with concern. “Has what I told you about Sebastian changed how you feel about me? That I’ve loved someone else before?”
“Sweetheart, I want to be with you, regardless of your past. Not just because I empathize with having a history that’s murky as a marsh. But because it’s you . And yes, you’re right. I’m worried about your safety. The memory of those men trying to drown you in that ice bath haunts me. And now, knowing they’ve taken the life of someone you loved, it terrifies me even more.”
“Blake, I feel the same. I couldn’t bear it if they hurt you.”
In fact, I’m not thinking about myself. I’m thinking about Coco and Anne.
I say, “I’m trained to handle danger. What I wasn’t prepared for was how deeply I’d feel for you. But you know what? That made my decision firm. You and Coco are my family now, and I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
I pull Georgia-May into my arms, embracing her with all the strength I have. Just as we settle into the comfort of each other’s hold, Poppy’s ‘whoop-whoop’ sound breaks the silence, signaling Coco’s stirrings.
“I’ve got her,” I assure her as I rise.
“Thanks, Blake. I think she’s officially relegated me,” Georgia-May says with a light chuckle.
I lean down and kiss her. “Never. You’re forever her number one, and nothing will ever change that.”
Cradling Coco in my arms, I feel an overwhelming sense of protectiveness swell within me. She’s not just Georgia-May’s daughter. She’s mine too. And come what may, I’ll stand guard over them both.