Chapter 31 #2
“Blake’s still recovering from a bite, so he should be comfortable and around other people, in case there’s .
. . any complications. You never know, especially with a virus this novel, how differently people can react to it, even when it seems to have run its course,” I say, pulling the words completely out of my ass.
I don’t want to hurt Blake, but I also don’t want to hurt Nate.
However, I know someone’s eventually going to get hurt.
In the meantime, I just need to smooth things over, until I can figure out what to do with the two of them.
Despite the look of suspicion on Nate’s face (because he is a doctor, after all) and his eyes darting between Blake and me, he simply nods, most likely not having the energy to argue and not wanting to ruffle any feathers.
Blake softly smiles, though it fades just as fast as it appeared, like lightning flashing across the sky.
“All right then,” my dad says, clasping his hands together. “We’ll table this until Blake is feeling one hundred percent.”
Blake doesn’t move or give my dad any sort of reaction. He just stands there staring at me, but I can’t fully meet his gaze. Maybe it’s the guilt I feel from learning that Nate didn’t ditch me at all. Or maybe it’s because I don’t trust myself to only look at him.
Dad pats Nate on the shoulder. “It looks like you could use a hot shower and a warm meal, son.”
“That’s exactly what I could use.” Nate grins.
Blake’s Adam’s apple slowly rocks up and down the length of his neck, like he’s being forced to consume something he doesn’t want to. I get it. Life is sometimes hard to swallow.
Closing my bedroom door behind me, I let out a heavy sigh before turning to face Nate in more ways than one.
Immediately, his lips are pressed hard against mine, hungry for another kiss.
He wastes no time, his hands finding their way to my breasts, squeezing them, then sliding down my lower back and grabbing my ass.
His fingers slip between my skin and the waistband of my pants.
Even though I’m kissing Nate, all I can think about is Blake.
I pull away, breathless, looking everywhere but at him.
“What? What’s wrong?” he asks, confusion taking over his face.
My mouth parts slightly to answer him, but no words come out, because I don’t know which ones I should tell him.
If I had known Nate never intended to ditch me, that he only ran to lure the burners away so I could escape, then Blake and I would have never happened.
But I didn’t, and I didn’t realize he was out there risking his life trying to get here to me.
Knowing that changes everything. I mean, it has to.
We were engaged. We had planned to spend forever together.
We were working so hard to build a life that we would one day be able to live in.
Honestly, it’s a miracle Nate made it to me, and it feels weird to throw that away.
But for some reason, I can’t go right back to the way things were with Nate.
I need time to get over Blake before I can be with my fiancé again .
. . I just can’t tell Nate that’s the reason I’m pushing him away.
I inhale through my nose, nearly gagging on the smell of decay and rot Nate’s secreting.
I’m not sure how I didn’t notice the odor before.
The hair on his head, along with the new hair on his face, is caked in dried blood and grime.
His skin is covered in the same, giving it a muddy color peppered with fresh scrapes and scabs that have crusted over.
“Casey,” he says, impatient for my response.
I scrunch up my nose and cover it with my hand. “It’s just . . . you smell really bad.”
He glances down at his clothes, covered in ten days of filth. Tugging on the collar of his T-shirt, he sniffs it and retches.
“Sorry,” he says. “Is there really a shower here?”
“There really is.” I smile.
“Oh, thank God.” Nate sighs with relief.
I pick up the stack of folded clothes from my bed and extend it toward him. “Here. They’re my dad’s. Bathroom’s at the end of the hall.” I hold the door open for him and gesture to the left. “Towels and washcloths are beneath the sink.”
Nate nods and leaves the room, pausing once to glance over his shoulder. He waggles his brows. “Want to join me?”
“Oh, I would, but we’re not supposed to waste water,” I say awkwardly.
“Right.” He tilts his head. “Maybe when I get back then.” He winks and continues on, looking back at me once more when he turns to shut the bathroom door.
With him out of sight, I let the tension in my face melt away, allowing my smile to fade.
I close my bedroom door behind me and sigh with relief because I’m finally alone, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll be able to think this through.
My eyes land on Blake’s perfectly made bed, and I can’t help but imagine him and me in it, so I avert my gaze to my own bed.
But it’s not mine anymore; it’s mine and Nate’s, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
I know how I should feel, but knowing those feelings and having those feelings are two very different things.
I close my eyes, wishing I could just forget about this morning, wipe it completely from my brain.
I was with Nate for two years. We lived together.
We were engaged, and Blake wasn’t even a factor.
Once in a while, Blake would cross my mind, but the only thought I’d have about him was I hope he’s suffering.
Or I’d use the image of him as motivation to get through something really tough—like passing the MCAT, interviewing for residency, dealing with a difficult patient.
My spite for Blake was highly motivating.
But that’s not the case anymore. He’s lodged in my brain—the same way food and sleep and oxygen are, wired into it as a need, not a want.
I don’t know how that happened in such a short time.
I didn’t think it was possible. Somehow, the hours I spent loving Blake are just as significant as the years I spent loving Nate.
Then again, maybe that’s all this is supposed to be, powerful and fleeting, a reminder that love doesn’t have to be forever to be real.
My eyes spring open at the sound of my bedroom door creaking.
I whip around to find Blake closing it behind him.
Neither of us says a word. I mean, what really is there to say.
I can’t tell him what he wants to hear, and there’s nothing he can say that would change my mind.
My heart . . . he doesn’t have to change that, because he has it—at least for right now.
But I learned to love him, and I’ll learn to unlove him too.
Without warning, Blake crosses the room, and his hands cup the sides of my face as he pulls me in for a kiss.
Not just any kiss. It’s the kind you get lost in even though you know your way.
It’s the kind that awakens every part of you, even though you feel like you’re in a dream.
And it’s the kind you thank God for, even if you don’t believe he exists.
As much as I want this, I know I shouldn’t.
“I can’t,” I say, withdrawing from him.
Blake’s mouth barely parts, his lips still swollen from our kiss. A look of betrayal washes over him like I’ve stabbed him in the back or, better yet, the heart.
“What do you mean, you can’t?” His eyes frantically search mine.
“Nate’s here.”
That should be the end of it, but I know it won’t be because it doesn’t feel like a good enough reason—not with how fast my heart is beating or the way it’s pumping blood to every part of me he’s touched.
His brows shove together, and he recoils his head. “So, that means we’re done?”
“Did we really ever start, Blake?”
He looks away, unable to answer the question that pained me to even ask in the first place.
Two years versus a few hours . . . that’s what I keep reminding myself.
Time. Because that’s what matters. It’s all we have until we don’t have it anymore.
Blake had all the time in the world to be with me.
He just waited until the world ended, and even then, it was only because he had no other choice.
Nate chose me, whereas Blake chose me after every other choice was made for him.
“Tell me you don’t love me.”
It’s not a demand. It’s a challenge, one I’m not up for.
“No,” I say, blinking away the brewing tears.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t wanna lie to you.”
In an instant, his lips are on mine again, begging and pleading for me to tell him the truth.
“I want you so bad, Casey. And not right now—forever,” he says in between breaths.
“Blake, stop.” I pull away again, even though not a single part of me wants to.
“Stop what?” he says breathless.
“Stop making this so hard.”
“If it’s hard for you to tell me this is over, then you know it’s not the right decision.”
“I don’t know that, and neither do you.”
He takes a step toward me, grazing a finger across my cheek. “Without you, my world ends.”
“The world already ended, Blake.”
“Only for a little bit, until you came back into it.”
Without warning, tears fall. They’re too fast and too sudden for me to stop them. Before I can speak, the bedroom door is opening. Blake and I separate from one another. He walks to his dresser, pretending to rummage through it, while I wipe away the tears.
“Training starts in twenty minutes,” Blake says.
I turn to find Nate standing in the center of the room with a towel wrapped around his waist, his eyes darting between the two of us.
“What’s training?” Nate asks, slightly squinting.
I blink away the rest of the tears, hoping he doesn’t notice.
“Combat training, buddy.” Blake smirks. “And everyone has to do it.”