Chapter 4
BLAKE
Why is it so fucking bright in here?
A sea of faces stare past me, and briefly my eyes meet Danielle’s. Issac has his arm around her protectively, and I follow her stunned gaze to that of the body slumped on the floor.
It’s my father.
Like a gazelle in headlights, I pause, frozen momentarily in time before my mother’s scream fills the room.
“Nooooo!”
Something snaps within me, and I move, falling to the floor beside my dad.
“Someone call nine-one-one!” I bark out, horrified at the expression on my dad's pale face.
“We have,” someone answers softly, like they already know there’s no point panicking now.
It’s twisted in agony, his hand clutching at his chest.
My fingers tremble, searching for his pulse beneath the stiff collar of his shirt.
Nothing.
“Dad! Wake up!” I shake him, but the rigid flesh beneath my fingers sends me reeling.
“He’s gone!” Mom wails, throwing herself onto his chest.
I rock back on my heels, staring at the man on the floor like I’m in some kind of nightmare.
This is Dad. Dad doesn’t die; not on my watch.
But fuck…
Paramedics swoop in, pulling Mom from him as they tear his shirt open.
But I know, no matter how many times they pump his chest, counting and breathing, he’s gone.
Mom looks like she’s going to pass out, and I struggle to my feet, making my way to her.
She sinks against me, howling like an animal.
“I can’t…I can’t…” she repeats breathlessly.
I stroke her hair, staring at the paramedics who are trying everything to resurrect my dead dad.
Dead.
How the fuck is my father dead?
I can’t hear anything.
Silence throbs in my ears; not even Mom's screams penetrate the wall that’s keeping me sane.
The paramedics don’t give up until they’ve tried everything, and it’s only when they turn to us, the look in their eyes full of heartache and bad news, that Mom collapses into my arms.
Someone grips my shoulders, squeezing it in what I can only assume is a reassuring manner.
“Mom,” I croak out, smoothing her hair beneath my fingers.
This isn’t right.
Dad’s not even fucking old.
“I’m sorry.”
“So sorry, he’s gone.”
“Do you need a drink of water?”
Questions surround us, and Mom grips to me like a broken raft in a storm. I feel about as useful as that raft too.
Someone covers Dad with a blanket, and it feels so strange; too strange.
I wonder if he can breathe, then my chest tightens, the weight of reality crushing me.
He’s dead.
The room empties silently around us, and Mom lifts her head to mine, her eyes swollen with tears.
I hope she doesn’t speak because I’m not able to answer her.
I’m not able to answer anyone.
Mom's lower lip trembles, and she lets out a gut-wrenching sob.
I can hear her heart breaking, and there’s nothing I can do.
I want to tell her that it’s okay, but words won’t form in my mouth.
Where’s Dad when you need him?
He’d know what to do here.
A lump forms in my throat.
You’re the man, son. I hear his voice echoing through my mind like a ghostly breeze. Look after your mom for me.
I’m fucking hallucinating now. Hearing voices.
Someone stops beside me, crouching to their knees.
“Blake.”
The voice is so soft and serene, coaxing me to look at its owner.
Danielle.
“Breathe.”
Her eyes scan mine, and her face saddens.
“I’m so sorry.”
Yeah. Me and you both.
Danielle hovers for a moment, her hand patting my back as she bites her lip.
“I’ll look after him, babe,” Issac says with his hand on her back. “You go. I’ll call you.”
This is wrong.
Danielle shoots me one last sad look before rising to her feet, turning to whisper to Issac.
Issac nods, dropping to his knees beside me.
“I’m so fucking sorry. Let’s get you guys home.”
“Mom,” I croak out, dragging her close to me.
She feels frail and old, yet she’s not a day over sixty.
“Mom, we need to go.”
Mom throws herself onto the tan blanket that covers my father, emblazoned with the hotel's name.
“Alec!”
Soft sobs follow, and I stand, my legs feeling like Jello.
“I’m really fucking sorry.”
I nod, not needing to look at Issac to know how sorry he is.
He’s been my best friend for three years, and Dad thought the world of him. He’s at ours for every holiday, and there will always be a place for him.
He shakes his head, his mouth in a grim smile.
“What the fuck, man?”
I nod in agreement, not knowing where to look.
My mother is breaking her heart over her dead husband's body, and I can’t find a single word in the world to comfort her.
Not a damn thing.
“Is there anything I can do?” Issac asks with his hand on my shoulder.
“Call my mom's sister. I don’t know how to handle her like this.”
I back away, far away, until my back hits the wall.
This is it.
Dad’s gone.
DANIELLE
I've never seen a man break before. Not like this. I'd watched Blake walk into the function room not long ago—all jaw and confidence, that easy smirk still on his lips—and now he’s on the floor beside his father, looking like someone has carved his insides out.
“Please look after him,” I whisper to Issac, moving away from the navy-blue eyes that are breaking into pieces before me.
Where is his confidence? His control?
I desperately need to see it.
Blake James needs to stand up and own this situation; anything other than this.
Scream, cry.
Just don’t sit in silence staring ahead like you’re dead to the world, Blake.
My heart aches at the image of Alec on the floor, covered with a blanket.
Paramedics are keeping people at bay, lifting him onto a stretcher as Issac comforts Blake.
I inhale, grateful that Blake has Issac.
Issac is strong and kind, and I know he will look after Blake.
Up until now, I’d assumed the two of them were no more than colleagues; but from the way Blake grips Issac’s hand, I can see that they are much more.
Friends.
My stomach churns, urging me to move toward the exit, following the crowd of shocked staff.
“He’s just dropped dead!” a young woman hisses into a phone.
I cringe, scowling at her as I walk by, not seeing an iota of emotion on her face.
“And Blake James was fucking Keeley in the restroom! Can you imagine?”
I feel like I’ve been punched.
Of course, he was.
I grimace, shaking my head to myself as I push through the emergency exit doors toward the parking lot.
The cool air greets me, soothing my fraught mind.
Blake was having sex with some girl at a work party?
He’s never going to change.
Not that it matters.
The man has just lost his father, and I will respect him by not indulging in the past.
Right now, he’s a grieving son, and I’m a work colleague.
The way he’d looked at me when I’d told him to breathe made me almost fall over. His intense stare, accompanied by a look of absolute desperation, was something I’d never seen him wear before.
Grief.
I make my way home, kicking off my shoes and flopping onto the sofa.
I sit in the dark, my thoughts of Alec lying on the cold floor breaking me.
Nine days.
Despite being with Blake for a while five years ago, I’d never met Alec as Blake’s girlfriend.
So, I only knew him professionally.
But it still hurts.
I pull my knees up to my chest, remembering Alec's kind words.
“You’ll do well.”
I have to believe him because my dream of running a successful travel business is closer than ever.
With Alec gone, though, I can’t help but worry for his company.
Who will take over?
Will they know as much as Alec did?
Closing my eyes, I slump onto the fluffy cushion beside me.
I need to sleep.
Blake…breathe…
“He’ll be okay; it’s not your problem,” I tell myself, my eyes heavy and sore from tears. “He’ll be okay.”
Blake James will bounce back. He always does.