Chapter 49

Chapter Forty-Nine

BLUE

When we pulled up to the house, West walked me up to the porch. I hesitated at the door, my hand on the knob, my stomach twisting.

Even after everything we’d been through, I felt self-conscious about letting him inside. There was nothing shiny in this house. No new furniture, no pieces of value. Just a lifetime of secondhand things and memories worn thin.

But then I remembered that I’d never been ashamed of this place before. Not once. It was where my dad had worked his ass off to raise me as a single father since I was six years old. I was never going to be embarrassed by that, and West had never given me a reason to feel like I should be.

So I took a breath, turned the key, and let him follow me inside.

The living room was dim and familiar. The blankets Lisa had used were still draped over the couch, an empty coffee cup abandoned on the end table. I carried it to the sink, rinsed it, and left it there before coming back to where West stood.

He hadn’t moved. Hands in his pockets. Looking like he belonged nowhere and everywhere all at once.

“I’m just going to grab a few things from Dad’s room,” I told him. “Wait here.”

“Of course.” His head tipped slightly. “You need help?”

I shook my head. “I got it. No telling how messy Dad’s room is.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “You know I don’t care about that. But… let me know if you need me.”

“I won’t be long.”

I slipped down the hall, moving quickly as I gathered the small comfort items Dad would want if he ended up staying longer in Atlanta. When I came back, a bag slung over my shoulder, West was exactly where I’d left him.

And for a second, I almost couldn’t breathe. He looked too perfect standing in my living room, like a man sculpted out of marble dropped into my little world of hand-me-downs.

“Didn’t know you married the poorest girl in the county, did you?” I teased, praying he’d laugh.

But his eyes caught mine, steady, serious. He shook his head slowly.

“I’ve never judged you for what you have or don’t have,” he said.

“What I see is warmth. The kind of warmth I only ever felt at Grams and Gramps’ house.

The kind of stability a father spends his whole life trying to build for his daughter.

You and your dad, after everything you’ve been through, you’re lucky to have each other.

Lucky to have this place, these memories. ”

The words made my chest ache. Because he was right. And because I could hear the unspoken comparison in his voice. His home, once grander, had been reduced to ashes. My little house, worn and humble, had been enough to raise me.

I reached for him. “You’re right. We may not have had much, but I’m so thankful I had him.”

He pulled me into his arms, and we stood there, wrapped in silence. His mind was elsewhere, though because I could feel it in the way his body tensed against mine. Something was working through him. Something he needed to say.

When he finally pulled back, his hands framed my face. His eyes held mine, steady and unflinching, before he whispered the one thing I never expected.

“We should probably go ahead and finalize our divorce.”

The words hit me like a slap.

Of all the things I’d imagined he'd say, this wasn’t it. I’d rested my head on his shoulder in the car earlier, realizing how impossible it would be not to fall for him. That I’d have to admit that I broke my own rule. And now here he was, unraveling it all.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered. “Did I say something wrong? Did something happen? You don’t even have your deal yet.” The desperation in my voice embarrassed me, but I couldn’t stop it.

“The bar is already in your name.” His voice was quiet but firm. “So is the lake house.”

I gasped, pulling back as if distance would make the words less true. “What?”

“They’re yours. Paid for. Taken care of.”

Tears pricked hot at the corners of my eyes. I turned my head so he wouldn’t see them fall. “I don’t want that. I can’t accept it, not when I haven’t even held up my end. Especially the lake house, West. I can’t accept that. And dinner with your partner isn’t even until next weekend.”

“Blue.” His voice was softer then, almost broken.

“I just don’t want to take more time away from your dad.

Spending time with you two today… it made me realize how close you are.

What an incredible man he is. And the longer we keep pretending, the more it’s going to hurt everyone.

I wasn’t supposed to meet him. You weren’t supposed to be Grams’ new favorite person.

This was supposed to be simple. I’ll make the deal happen, or I won’t, but not at the expense of the people we love.

And definitely not at the expense of you. ”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn't stop the way my chest rose and fell like I was drowning. A soft pressure on my back pulled me into him, and I buried my face against his shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to be too much,” I choked out. “I know my life is a lot.”

“Hey.” He tilted me back so I had to look at him.

His eyes burned with conviction. “This is not too much. You are not too much. You’re perfect.

And I’m going to keep being your friend.

Maybe even your best friend. You need me and I’ll be there.

But as your best friend, I can’t keep asking you to spread yourself so thin.

To give me pieces of you that I don’t deserve. ”

I flinched at the word friend. Because I’d never had a friend who kissed me like he did. Who touched me like he did. Who made me ache the way he did.

But I didn’t say it. Didn’t let myself beg him for more.

“Okay,” I whispered. My voice shook. “Can I still catch a ride back to Atlanta?”

“Of course.” His arms closed around me, his voice low in my ear. “You’ll still come to the penthouse. Marshal will still be there if you need anything, as well.”

I nodded, unable to answer.

“I just need a minute.” My feet carried me down the hall, into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

I stared at the girl in the mirror.

She wasn’t the polished girl from earlier, the one in Connie’s blouse with her hair pinned just so. She was raw. Messy. Eyes red, lips trembling.

She wasn’t West’s wife. She wasn’t perfect enough to fit in his penthouse.

She was just Blue.

The girl who twirled bottles behind the bar, flashing skin on Friday nights to earn bigger tips. The girl who still lived across the hall from her dad because it was all they could afford.

I splashed water on my face, trying to calm the shaking in my hands.

And then—

“Blue!”

West’s voice carried from the living room, sharp, commanding, laced with something that sent chills racing down my spine.

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