Chapter 30 Blake
BLAKE
It takes everything in me not to pull at the collar of my tux, the thing no longer like a second skin but a version of myself that no longer occupies this world.
It’s only tonight, then I’ll be gone.
The mantra is the only thing going for me right now. That and whatever I can find in the mini bar in my room once all this is over.
My house is ready to go on the market, most of the things I want already tucked away in storage. The movers will take care of the rest.
It’s one less thing to deal with and Lord knows I don’t need anything else tonight.
There’s a crowd gathering near the VinCo painting that arrived last night just before I succumbed to an epic meltdown. My stomach had been a ball of nerves, and I’d tripled security overnight to ensure the damn thing would be protected.
It’s perfect.
There haven’t been many times in my life that I’ve felt moved by a painting, but this one is breathtaking. The way the colors blend and collide is incredible, like a passionate dance filled with heartache and unmistakable love.
It’s impossible to put into words how one painting can make me feel all that, only that it does, and judging by the guests milling around, they feel it too.
My heart pangs a little at not seeing Ellison here.
For some reason, I feel more alone at this event than I ever have before. I know I’m missing Cal but he doesn’t deserve my attention—not right now.
I promised myself I wouldn’t open any of his messages until after tonight. This gala is too important to let myself spiral before the end.
Just a little longer.
Plus my grandfather said he’d buy me a bottle, so that’s something.
I’m just about to make my way to the other side of the room when my gaze snags on someone standing on the periphery near the VinCo painting.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
He wouldn’t.
But surely he would.
Because Calvin Spence is standing in the center of the gala he sure as hell wasn’t invited to.
How the hell did he get in here?
Pushing down the potent mix of anger and relief, I walk as confidently as I can toward him, thankful he hasn’t seen me before I can truly take him in.
He looks devastatingly handsome in a tux, his hair still a little long but neatly styled and his back straight.
To anyone else, he looks like he belongs here, but I see the tension in his body, the slight clench of his jaw, and the way he touches his left wrist before dropping his hands.
I’d bet the cost of this event that he still has the bracelet secured around his wrist, and that it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.
Is he nervous?
Devastated?
Aware that I don’t want to fucking see him right now?
The last thought has my feet carrying me the last few steps toward where he’s standing.
It never occurred to me that he’d fly to Savannah, this unexpected surprise causing my stomach to bottom out as his gaze slides to mine.
Electric.
Cal’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and I’ve never been so thankful for the ability to whip out a placating expression as I am right now.
“Blake, this is amazing,” he murmurs, my heart skipping a beat because the words are filled with genuine awe.
And I can’t have that.
I don’t want that.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I hiss, not wanting to draw attention. “I don’t want you here.”
“I just need five minutes.”
“Five minutes? Right now? You think right now is the best time to catch up?” Taking his elbow and leading him out of the room, I do my best to maintain nonchalance as we pass donors and guests with the promise of catching up in just a minute.
I hate how good he looks.
I hate the delicious smell of his cologne.
I hate his stupid bow tie and the way I know he did it just for me.
I hate that my heart is breaking with every second that passes.
“I want to apologize.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” The last part comes out as a growl as I push him inside an empty room and take two giant steps away from him.
“I know the timing—”
“Fuck you and your timing.” Dragging my hand through my hand, I whirl around. “We’re here. Now talk.”