56. Blakely
FIFTY-SIX
Blakely
It’s silent on the car ride home, Lennox glancing at me every few minutes and then staring back at the road.
My hands are clammy and I rub them on my pant legs, wanting to break the tension but not knowing where to start.
As far as people who have wronged me, Lennox was unfairly placed in that category. It’s easy to see now, after some separation, that he’s been one of the most loyal people to have ever existed in my life.
“Do you love her?” I blurt out.
His jaw tenses as he looks at me, his knuckles tightening on the steering wheel. He blows out a breath and nods.
I bite on my lip, processing that information. “That’s good,” I finally say.
“It is?” His voice is surprised.
I nod. “Yeah. Makes it easier to forgive you.”
He huffs. “You have nothing to forgive me for , Blakely. I’m not required to tell you about my personal life.”
I press against the back of my seat. “I guess that’s true.”
He hums, rolling down his window, the breeze whipping gently across my face. “But I am sorry for keeping it from you. The way everything went down was…” He cringes. “Not ideal.”
Laughter bubbles out of me, and I snort, leaning my head against the headrest. “You can say that again.”
Our talk dies down and a sadness fills my chest, as I wonder if I’ll ever be able to forgive Kayla for the things she’s done. I like to believe that at one time she was actually my friend. Maybe she still is, and she was just misguided in her actions. Or maybe she’s lost in the clutches of fame, losing the girl she once was in the process. If that’s the case, I hope she finds her way out. I know all too well what that feels like.
I’ve been staring at my reflection for days, thanking God that the girl inside of me didn’t disappear for good.
She’s still there. Battered and bruised and rising from the darkness. Stronger.
“Do you think she regrets it?” I ask.
He blows out a breath. “You’ll have to ask her that.”
My stomach churns at the thought. “I’m not ready to talk to Kayla. I don’t know if I ever will be, she’s…a painful part of my past, and honestly, I’m worried that if I spend time with her now, I’ll get sucked into bad habits. Negative thinking.” I tap my head. “I’ve been working really hard to change that around.” Just the thought of seeing her again causes emotions to whirl around inside of me. “Yeah.” I shake my head. “Definitely not ready to see her.”
“Neither am I.” Sadness tinges his voice.
I think he’s saying he doesn’t see her anymore, even though he loves her. Empathy sneaks from my chest and pours into my heart, knowing all too well what that feels like.
As we turn onto a back road, I take notice of where we are and sit up straighter. I thought we were heading home, but this is on the other side of town, headed toward…
“Where are we going?”
“To meet your dad. He’s at Donahue Motors, so that’s where I’ve been instructed to drop you off.”
My heart flips, stomach sinking at the thought of running into Jackson. I had come to terms with never seeing his face again, learning to live just like my dad does—with a hole where my heart should be.
The thought alone sends a spike of panic through my chest. I recognize it immediately, but instead of trying to push away the feeling, I grasp onto it, closing my eyes and breathing deep. I tense up every single part of my body, stiff as a board, and then slowly relax, focusing intensely on the relief of each muscle as the tension melts away.
There have been numerous types of relaxation techniques I’ve tried since being at Turning Pointe, but my favorite, the one that works the best, is progressive muscle relaxation, or PMR.
“Are you okay?” Lennox’s voice rises in alarm.
I don’t answer until I’ve finished the routine, feeling the stabbing panic fall away, control rising in its place. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just keeping the panic at bay,” I say, reassuring him.
Lennox glances at me. “He’s not there.”
My chest pinches. “Who?”
“Jax. He left town right after you humiliated him on live television.”
My insides cramp. “I did not humiliate him.”
Lennox pulls into the parking lot of Donahue Motors, driving to the entrance and pulling to a stop, the car idling. He twists his body toward me. “Blakely, be real. Any man would be humiliated by what you did.”
My defenses start to rise. He doesn’t understand why I did what I did—no one does, and that’s fine. I can live with that because I still don’t have to live with the guilt of knowing that I was the reason Jackson didn’t get the one thing he’s always wanted. “I did it to save his dream, Lennox.”
He clicks his tongue. “I don’t think he sees it that way.”
My heart stalls as his earlier words filter through my brain. “Wait, did you say he left town? As in he no longer works here?”
“I did. It was all over the internet. I’m sure you can look it up if you want to see.”
Nausea rolls through me in tumultuous waves. “Paparazzi?”
Lennox nods.
“Damnit.” Frustration billows inside of me. “So everything I did was for nothing? He just left town anyway and threw away his dream?”
Lennox tilts his head, a sad smile creeping along his face. “Maybe his dream didn’t seem as sweet without someone there to share it with.”
Sadness and guilt mix together, forming a lethal cocktail, and I gulp it down like water, allowing the burn to flow through my insides and poison my blood.
It’s what I deserve, after all.
Forcing a smile, I lean across the center console, giving Lennox a hug. He stiffens but doesn’t push me away, and in Lennox’s world, it’s as good as if he squeezed me tight.
“Thank you,” I say. “For being you. You’re one of the most important people in my life. One of the only ones I can trust.”
His nostrils flare, the right corner of his mouth twitching as he nods.
“Are you waiting out here for me?”
He shakes his head. “Your dad said to drop you off.”
“Okay, well…see ya later. Thanks for the pep talk.”
He laughs, waving me off, and I get out of the car and make my way inside, searching for my dad.
I find him in the garage.
As I walk through the glass doors, memories spin like a record. Every corner of this place reeks of Jackson, and I have to hold back the tears, an intense longing exploding inside of me—the whip of regret striking new lacerations against my heart with every step.
My dad is standing next to a man who’s loading the cars on a truck. My eyes scan the area, taking in the scene. “Hey. What’s going on?”
He spins, his smile blinding as he beams from across the room. “Hi, honey.” Walking over, he pulls me into his arms. It’s a new thing of his—hugging. He visited me every week at Turning Pointe, and each time he’d grip me so tight, I worried he might leave bruises.
I sink into his embrace, allowing his warmth to wrap around me like a blanket.
Pulling back, his hands on my shoulders, he sighs. “Let me look at you.”
I roll my eyes, but my chest warms from his attention. “I was only gone for thirty days, Dad. And you saw me last week. I’m hardly different.”
He lifts up my arm, his finger poking my sides. “Hmm…I don’t know, you seem different to me.”
Giggling, I wrench out of his grasp. “Stop it. What’s all this?” I wave to Jackson’s work as it’s loaded onto the truck, worry tearing through my insides, hoping that he isn’t taking them somewhere to be hidden away, covered in dust, never to be seen again.
I’ll never forgive myself for ruining things when it didn’t make a damn difference in the end.
My dad’s face grows serious, and he leans against the red toolbox Jackson apparently left behind. “This is me, taking the last of Jax’s cars and putting them on set.”
My breath stutters, hope sticking to my insides like cling wrap. “You’re using them?”
He nods. “I’m using them. And I’ll be paying him for it, too.” His jaw clenches. “I never should have used his career as an ultimatum. I just…well—” He lifts a shoulder. “I don’t really have an excuse. I was angry. Protective. Not able to see past my ego to recognize that sometimes two people fall in love even when the world tells them they can’t.”
My heart throbs against my ribs, my abdomen flaring.
“You feeling good?” He lifts a brow. “Strong?”
I straighten my spine, pride filling every pore at all the work I’ve been putting into myself. “Yeah, Dad. I’m feeling strong.”
He nods, sucking on his teeth. “Good. Because I have the jet gassed up and ready for you.”
Confusion spreads through me. “Uh…for what?”
“To go get him back.”
I laugh, nerves lighting up my insides like a Christmas tree. “I’m sorry, to get what ?”
“You never would have gone through with that ridiculous charade if I hadn’t pushed you.” He grabs my hands. “Let me help you make it right. You love him?”
Choking back a sob, I nod, my hand coming up to cover my mouth.
“He saw you when everyone else was blind…the way I saw your mother.” He shakes his head. “You don’t let something like that slip through your fingers.”
I sigh. “Dad, there’s no chance?—”
“You fight , Blakely. And only after you’ve given it your everything, do you admit defeat.”
“I don’t…”
“Do you want him back?” he asks.
“Well, yes, but?—”
“Then take the jet. There will be a car waiting for you when you land. You go to him and you show him that you see him too.”
Sucking in a breath, determination attaches to my spine, rooting me in its confidence. In its strength. “Okay.”
“And, Blakely…” He tips up my chin. “I’m sorry.”
My eyes sting with tears, fragments of my heart being sewn back together. “I forgive you.” I glance around. “So guess I’m going to Sugarlake?”
He nods. “Guess you’re going to Sugarlake.”