Chapter 26 Blake
BLAKE
Isaw this conversation going a lot differently in my mind. We’d eat and relax then maybe talk about where we see this going between us. I’d suggest he go change out of what he wore to his practice, but now doesn’t seem to be the time.
“What about me?” Cal enunciates, a mixture of defensiveness and vulnerability in his tone.
Exhaling heavily through my nose, I cross my arms and stare at him, my own walls wanting to go up.
It’s fine. It’s going to be fine.
“The gala is a few weeks away and I thought we could talk about the gala and what comes after. I’d love to show you around to see some of the hidden gems the city has to offer. There’s some really incredible art galleries and restaurants and—”
“Blake, there is no after,” he snaps, his cheeks flushing as he spreads his arms wide. “And what the hell does any of this have to do with Liam?”
“I’m falling for you, Cal, and—”
“Fuck. Blake…you gotta stop. You can’t be falling for me. We had rules.” Cal drags his hands down his face, his fingertips covering his mouth as he looks anywhere but at me. “I can’t do this.”
“I know. I didn’t mean to but…”
“This…” He waves between us. “This was supposed to just be fun, and galas and sightseeing in your hometown are not casual, Blake. Falling is not casual. I was honest. I told you I didn’t want this thing between us to be more than what we agreed on.
I like simple, and I don’t want tuxedoes and hundred-dollar plates of mediocre food. ”
“I just wanted to talk about it. I wanted to be honest.”
“It’s too much. You and me… it’s too much, too intense. You’re fucking everywhere, Blake—the blanket and the mug and a dozen other things that you swear were not gifts—but we’re temporary and I told you I didn’t want to complicate anything.”
“I’m not trying to complicate anything; I just thought we could talk. You don’t want to. I heard you.”
“Yeah, well, you should have heard me before and—” He stops mid rant, his gaze straying to his studio. “I told you not to go in there,” he barks, stomping toward the open door and slamming it shut.
“I didn’t go in there.”
“Bullshit. Then why the hell was it open?”
“I don’t know, but I didn’t notice it was open. I’d never invade your privacy like that.”
“I can’t do this with you right now. I’m going for a run.”
“Cal…”
He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t acknowledge that I’ve said a word.
He doesn’t believe me.
He doesn’t want me here.
He doesn’t want me.
It’s the last thought that has my mind on a slippery slope of panic. The timer on the oven
brings me back to the present as I turn everything off and remove the pan, gently placing it on the stove top to cool. It smells delicious but it’s a meal I won’t be around to eat.
I can’t.
Standing here, in the middle of the kitchen that he so eloquently stated is definitely not mine, I feel the walls I’d so freely taken down for Cal snapping easily into place. I was fooling myself thinking I could outrun the expiration date on this.
He wanted to fuck without the consequences, and now I’m paying the price because I couldn’t keep my heart and my dick separate.
Turning, I pull a trash bag from under the sink before shaking it out.
The blanket I bought for the back of the couch.
The pencil holder I made the night we went to the Kettle & Kiln.
The mug I got him that says World’s Greatest Art Teacher.
I can feel myself turning back into the man I was before I came to Blackstone Falls. Indifferent. Lonely. Disconnecting myself from this place and donning my former persona like a second skin, I move as quickly as I can from room to room, erasing all traces that I’d been there.
I didn’t know it could hurt like this.
But there’s time for breaking down.
Not now.
Grabbing my suitcase, I throw my clothes haphazardly into it, not bothering to fuss over my suits as I toss them onto the bed so I can carry them out.
The fact that it took me less than twenty minutes to scrub myself from Cal’s house should probably say something.
Temporary.
Replaceable.
I did this to myself.
And I won’t have to pretend everything is fine when he gets back.
This is easier.
I’ll tell my mother we broke up if she asks. I’ll do all the things I should have done at the start. It was stupid to think I’d survive another pretend relationship.
Someday I’ll learn.
Glancing one last time around the living room, I pull the house key from my key ring and grab a piece of paper from the kitchen drawer, scribbling out a message because this is done.
We’re done.
And there’s no coming back.