Chapter 18 #2
“But I didn’t take care of her as I should’ve.
I should’ve been clear from the start. I guess I assumed too many things too.
” I sigh. “My life goes a million miles per hour sometimes. I’m responsible for so many people, so many families.
It’s all I can do to keep my head above water most days—but that’s my choice.
I love it. Kendra got sucked in and spit out, and I blame myself for that. Even if I didn’t mean to do it.”
I push my chair under my desk and then lean against it.
Blaire stands in front of me, her hands wrapped around her middle. She’s less rigid than she was when she first entered but still too tense to make me relax.
“I have a hard time letting people in because of that,” I say softly.
“I generally don’t like being too incorporated into someone else’s life, either, because then I have a responsibility that I don’t have time to take seriously.
I miss stuff. I miss signs. I can’t do things the right way, and the right way is the only way I want to do everything. ”
She leans against the bookshelf and watches me out of the corner of her eye. I think she’s mulling what I just said over and trying to make sense of it.
I know I sound pretentious—as though I have some crazy pull on women—but that’s not at all what I mean. I hope she understands that.
“Can I ask you something?” she whispers.
“Sure.”
“Why did you ask me to stay?”
Her eyes shine with some unnamed emotion. Whatever it is staring back at me is raw and unfiltered. This moment, beneath the harsh yellow light and in a plain white T-shirt that hangs mid-thigh—Blaire Gibson is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her.
“Honestly? I don’t know,” I say. “You’re strong. You hold your own. You’re gorgeous and intelligent, and I enjoy talking to you. And it probably didn’t hurt that you live a thousand miles away.”
She almost smiles. “I figured that helped.”
“At least I’m honest.”
She blows out a breath and paces a little circle. Her fingers tug at the fabric of her shirt—clenching and unclenching it on repeat. Finally, she stops and looks at me with a resolution that makes me hold my breath.
“I have trust issues,” she says.
“I’m aware.”
She cracks a grin. “I’m serious. I really do. I don’t think I even understood the depths of it until I got here.”
“Why here?”
“I’m out of my wheelhouse,” she says, looking around.
“I’m out of my routine. The people in my life know what to expect, and none of them pushes the agenda.
But then I come here and meet you, and you don’t know the lines I’ve established.
And then Sienna, bless her heart, somehow feels like I’m on her turf down here, and now we’re going to be best friends. ”
“She’s a good friend to have.”
Blaire’s shoulders fall. “I don’t … I don’t know how to be a friend, Holt. I don’t know how to tell you things about me and know you won’t ridicule me for them.”
I push off my desk. “Do you think I’d do that? Because, if you do, I’ve done something wrong.”
“No,” she rushes, sticking a hand in front of her. “That’s not what I mean.”
“I would never ridicule you for anything you say or choose to share with me. Unless you think Boone is a genius. In that case, prepare yourself.”
This gets a little laugh out of her.
She’s gathering her courage as I watch her from a safe distance.
“When my parents died, I was a wreck,” she says, her tone monotone and as if she just needs to get the words out. “They were my lifeline. My safety net. Having them pass away like they did just pulled the rug out from under me.”
I nod.
“I had a boyfriend. Jack was his name. And a friend named Lacie. And, at first, they were supportive.”
My jaw clenches. I don’t think I like where this is going.
She ignores me. “I couldn’t pull myself together.
It was … months before I could even function for a whole day.
I had their estate to settle. I had to keep my youngest brother from landing himself in prison.
Walker … I don’t even want to go there, and Lance had a health crisis that I had to get him through because if I didn’t, it would fall on our nana. ”
She paces back and forth across my office. The words tumble past her lips in quick succession. It’s as though she’s afraid that if she stops, she’ll never restart.
“That’s a lot,” I say softly, wanting to offer support but not interrupt.
She stops walking and looks at me. “It was so much.” Her voice cracks.
“And, like you, I looked up one day and realized that decisions had been made without me being asked. Only, Jack and Lacie had decided to move on together, and I was left holding a bunch of broken pieces of a life I had just a few weeks before.”
I was right. I don’t like where this is going.
“I remember asking him why he did that to me. How could he do this to me? And he said I was so self-absorbed with my own shit and that I wasn’t there for him.
That he needed my support to get through law school, and if I wasn’t going to give him that, then he didn’t see why he should waste any time on me. ”
A single, solitary tear slips down her cheek.
My heart breaks for her. Watching her cry feels like someone kicked me in the gut.
I reach for her, but she backs away.
“He told me I was weak and too emotional, and I would never make a good attorney. He threw all the things I’d confided in him back in my face and made me sound like an impulsive train wreck.” She wipes her eyes with the back of her hands. “Maybe I was.”
“You just lost your parents, Blaire. You’re entitled to be a mess. But you’re also entitled to have the support of your friends when you’re going through things like that.”
It takes everything I have to be kind and patient. What I really want to do is give in to the burst of adrenaline shooting through my veins and demand to know who this guy is and where I can find him.
But that won’t help her. And, for what might be the first time in a long time, she needs someone to put her first.
She sniffles. “I was staying in his apartment. I was on his phone plan. I had everything of mine tied up with his, and when he kicked me out, I had nothing. I controlled nothing in my life. I had to threaten to have the police come and let me get my things because he wouldn’t let me in.”
I take her hand in mine and pull her closer.
We stand with a few feet between us. The fear in her eyes from before is faded. A strand of hair is stuck to the side of her face with a tear. I use my free hand to brush it away.
The contact breaks an invisible wall. Her eyes fill with unshed tears.
“I broke down, Holt,” she says through a lump in her throat.
“I sat one night in the bathroom of this shitty apartment that I found for next to nothing and told Machlan how he had to straighten up. How his future depended on it. How I expected him to make good choices. I hung up the phone and just cried.”
Tears flow down both cheeks. She tries to slip her hand from mine, but I hold it tight.
“I sat there that night with a piece of glass in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other and a letter from the university that said if I didn’t get my shit together, I was out. I probably cried enough in that one sitting to fill the bottle up with tears.”
She lowers her eyes from mine.
“And I thought about just ending it all.” She hiccups through her tears. “I figured I could drink enough and then just do it and never wake up or feel anything again. I was so tired of feeling like I was drowning and that no one fucking cared.”
I pull her to me. She resists at first, but then melts in my arms.
My hands clasp at the small of her back as I rest my chin on top of her head. I squeeze my eyes shut and feel the sting of her words in my chest.
Her body goes limp in my arms as she succumbs to the emotions she’s been holding in for God knows how long. Her cries are quiet—her fists balling my shirt up and holding it tight.
I try to imagine her pain. I attempt to piece together a life without my parents, without my work, without my brothers who are my best friends.
The thought alone is enough to make me want to lose my mind.
We stand in the middle of my office for a long time, swaying back and forth. I hold her tight until her cries soften and then stop. My body doesn’t separate from hers until her fists let go of my shirt and her body stops shaking. Only then do I look down.
She peers up at me with a timid look on her face.
“I’m sorry I spewed all of that out like that,” she whispers.
“I’m sorry you held it in for so long.”
She grins. “Thanks for listening.”
“Thanks for trusting me.”
She steps back.
I let her go because I have to, but I hate that I do. I miss her in my arms almost immediately.
We watch each other with a heavy dose of hesitation.
I want to tell her how strong she is and that I’m honored she shared all of that with me. I also want to tell her that I want to take her to bed and kiss her and show her how amazing she is until the sun comes up.
But none of that feels right.
I look over my shoulder at the work I still need to do. It only takes a second to realize it can wait—or it will wait, even if it can’t.
I’ll figure it out tomorrow.
“Come on,” I say, taking her hand and tugging her behind me.
“Where are we going?”
“You said you like pizza, right?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I have some pizza in the freezer with our name on it.”
She laughs. “This one time in college, we ordered this pizza …”
As we round the corner into the hallway, I mentally check out. I don’t hear her words, just her voice and the way it’s less bogged down. It’s airier and freer … and music to my ears.