28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Addy
Sometimes, you have to just try and move on.
And that’s what I’m doing. One small step at a time.
I glance down at my phone on my bathroom counter, knowing there won’t be anything from Blaze.
I blocked him.
Was it a harsh move? Yes.
But my heart hurts , and I can barely get through the day without crying.
It feels like a decade-long marriage has come to an end—not that I know what that feels like, but this is more than just the end of a little fling. This hurts so deeply that I think I might die.
It’s been almost a week since everything went down between us at that rooftop bar, and he’s yet to show face. Not that I expect him to. He probably knows he’s blocked. But I don’t know for sure.
“Addy, are you in there?” Mom calls out.
“Coming,” I reply, straightening my shoulders and my freshly styled hair.
I’ve taken my mom up on her styling advice, and now I look the part of the wealthy daughter. My black tank top is free of dog hair and stains, my jeans are designer, and my Gucci sneakers have replaced my Vans. This feels like a costume, but clearly I’ve been doing things wrong prior to this, so I have to try something new—reinvent myself.
“Wow,” Mom says as I step out of the bathroom. She’s been coming over a lot more, and I’m pretty sure she’s worried about me.
“You look nice. Ready for lunch?”
I nod, plastering on a fake smile. “Absolutely.”
“Aurora will be there,” she says as we head toward my front door. “She’s so excited to see you. I think their extra-long honeymoon has made her heart grow fonder of us.” Mom elbows me, and I force a laugh.
But is the distance making Blaze’s heart grow fonder?
I swallow hard and open the door for Mom. We step outside into the warm air, and I inhale a lungful. My eyes drift back to the spot Blaze’s Jeep was parked. It’s empty now, and I brush it off as we walk toward the breakfast café Mom likes to frequent—the one right next door to Blaze’s gym.
My heart has a nervous stutter as we meander down the sidewalk. “Do you think Aurora will be on time?” It’s such a stupid question, but I’m desperate to fill the silence and stop my head from running right back to Blaze.
“Of course, she will be.” Mom laughs. “But speaking of Aurora, she and I would like to throw you a party for your thirtieth birthday. What do you think about having an old-school Hollywood theme? You know, Aurora’s always trying to find a reason to glam herself up.”
“Yeah, sounds great.” I clench my hands at my side, hating the thought of my upcoming birthday. Mom never throws me parties. It’s always been Blaze and me doing something—just the two of us. But Mom knows what happened.
And I know she’s just trying to make things easier on me. I get it.
And I appreciate it. I do.
“Okay, cool. I’ll send out the invitations today. Is there anyone specific you want me to invite?” She keeps her tone so upbeat that I nearly roll my eyes.
“No,” I say flatly. “I can’t think of anyone.” My voice sounds distant as my eyes zero in on the familiar Jeep parked right outside the gym. My heart flip-flops in my chest, and I find a lump in my throat as the door swings open.
Why does he have to be getting here at this exact time?
I know the answer. It’s ten-thirty. He’s meeting his friends here to work out just like he always does.
I watch Blaze step out, his Converse hitting the asphalt.
“Addy?” Mom’s voice breaks my thoughts, and I realize I’ve stopped a few feet behind her.
I can’t respond, not as Blaze’s gaze flicks in my direction. His deep, amber eyes meet mine. I can’t breathe. His lip twitches, surrounded by a light grazing of stubble. He looks tired. Maybe even upset?
He probably hates me now.
He may have been the one who broke my heart, but I’m the one who called off our friendship.
Guilt pummels me at the thought, and I subconsciously wrap my arms around my middle.
“Maybe you should go talk to him?” Mom offers, standing beside me again, her voice barely above a whisper.
My lips part, and Blaze gives me a ghost of a smile. He’s not going to approach me, and the realization that it’s all in my hands makes me feel anxious. I chose that when I called it off and blocked him.
I take a step forward, but it’s too late. Blaze ducks his head and heads into the gym. He’s literally running from me.
I swallow the knot in my throat as Aurora’s face fills my vision.
“Hey, you,” my sister chirps, not even knowing what kind of cataclysmic moment I just had. She wraps me up in a hug. “Mom filled me in on everything that happened. You deserve so much better.”
“Shh,” Mom says, her eyes still on the gym. “He was just right here.”
“Who? Blaze? Seriously?” Aurora’s eyes widen. “Is he stalking you? Girl, I have some contacts. I can take care of—”
“No,” I cut her off. “And also, weird . I don’t know how you have those kinds of contacts. Everything is fine. Sometimes this city is just too small.”
“Yeah,” Mom says quietly. “Let’s go inside.”
I nod as she loops her arm around mine and leads me toward the restaurant entrance. As I enter, I take one more glance toward the Jeep in the parking lot.
I miss it.
I miss him . So much.
Part of me wants to go running back to him and tell him we can just be friends if that’s what it takes to have him in my life again, but…
But that’s not the answer for me.
I take a seat at the table, my eyes drifting to the window, while Aurora and Mom chat happily about married life. I tune out and reach into my pocket for my phone. I scroll to my blocked contacts and unblock Blaze.
I pull up our old message thread and start to type, “I miss you.”
But I can’t bring myself to hit the send button.
He should know I miss him, right? I mean, I told him I love him.
I close out of the message thread and put my phone back in my purse.
“You really love him?” My sister nudges me.
I look over at her, feeling pathetic and teary all over again. “Yeah, I do—er, I did.”
“Well, I think he loves you, too,” Aurora says in a tone that makes me want to dump my ice water down her shirt.
“ If he did, don’t you think he would’ve said that by now? I told him how I felt, and it all came back to bite me.”
“Men aren’t that easy,” Aurora tells me. “Let’s not forget that Blaze is an orphan. He has no idea how to do things like this. He doesn’t know how to tell you he loves you, and he’s probably scared.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, letting the conversation die at that.
Thankfully, Mom doesn’t chime in. We’ve talked it all to death, and she was pretty adamant that I shouldn’t block him—but she also knows how hard this is for me.
So, we keep the conversation focused on Aurora and Robert, and then my thirtieth birthday party, which will mostly consist of everyone else’s friends. Penny won’t be able to make it, and without Blaze, well, I don’t really have any other close friends. Apart from the team, of course—his team.
Ugh.
I don’t eat much, and finally, the scent of syrup is overwhelming me for whatever reason. I push back from the table, forcing a jovial tone. “I’m going to go wait outside for you guys to finish. I have a headache.”
“Okay,” Aurora chimes, though my mom only gives a solemn nod.
I slip from the table, a fresh stain on this tank top that costs more than my couch. I jog down the steps and head for the bench…
Right as Blaze steps outside of the gym, his phone to his ear.
As soon as our eyes lock, he immediately pulls it away and hangs up on whoever he was calling. He forces a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Addy.” He breathes out the greeting, his eyes dropping to my shoes.
“They’re new,” I say stupidly. “My mom bought them for me. Actually, she bought everything I have on. It’s all new.”
He nods. “Yeah, looks like it.” His eyes drop to his beat-up Converse, black gym shorts, and black cutoff. “Still the same over here.” The comment nearly rips my heart right in two.
“Yeah,” I choke out, my voice laced with defensiveness. “Well, I can’t stay the same, Blaze. It wasn’t working for me before.”
His brow furrows, and then he takes a step forward. “There was nothing wrong with you, Addy.”
“Yeah, well,” I scoff, raking my fingers through my hair, “I’d beg to differ. Besides, I read this article that says reinventing yourself helps you … um, move on.” I feel so awkward admitting it to the guy who’s the reason I’m trying to move on in the first place… Meanwhile, he’s not having to do anything.
Ugh. I’m so pathetic.
“Right.” Blaze shoves his hands in his pockets. “Is that the same article that mentioned blocking people, too? Because if so, maybe I should read it so we’re on the same page.”
My heart stumbles over itself, heat flooding my cheeks. “I had to. Otherwise, I probably would’ve gotten drunk and called you or something.”
That crooked grin tugs at his lips. “And would that be such a bad thing?”
“Yeah,” I snap. “I’d embarrass myself. That’s all I’ve done, Blaze. That’s all I ever do. I embarrass myself, and that’s why we can’t be friends. I’d just keep embarrassing myself.” I laugh dryly, because I know if I don’t, I’ll probably burst into tears.
Blaze takes a step forward. “Addy, nothing you did was ever embarrassing to me. If anything, I was the one who embarrassed myself.”
“Please stop.” I hold up my hand. “I don’t want to rehash our kiss. I really don’t. It hurts too much.”
“I don’t regret kissing you.” Blaze’s eyes search mine. “I don’t at all.”
“Okay, great.” I shake my head. “I’ll add that to my journal of things I don’t understand about you.” My voice increases in volume just as I hear my mom and Aurora’s chatter behind me. “I have to go,” I tell him, ripping my gaze away.
He doesn’t say anything as I storm toward my family, and it only serves to reiterate how freaking sick I am of always being the one who has the last word. I’m so over it. I place myself right in between my mom and Aurora.
“Well, that seemed heated.” Aurora eyes me. “So much passion for two people who apparently are moving on .”
“There’s no passion on his side,” I seethe, nearly dragging my mom and sister away from Blaze. “He just stares at me.”
“Are you serious?” Aurora gives me a funny look. “It’s written all over his face, Addy. Maybe you should try to give him more than five seconds to come up with something to say.”
I don’t say anything in response, telling myself it doesn’t matter.
I can’t listen to any more of his speeches about just wanting to be friends .