Blake blamed himself.He blamed himself for Noah’s death. And he blamed himself for beingdistractedbecause of that woman.
And suddenly,everythingclicked into place. He’d told me before he couldn’t promise me anything, and now I understood why. He didn’t want to risk being distractedagain.
“Blake,” I said, my breath hitching. I reached up, gently cupped his face, and tilted it toward me. “If they said there was nothing you could have done, then there’snothingyou could have done. Youhaveto believe that.”
“Ican’t,” he whispered, shaking his head. “If-failedhim.”
“No. No, you didn’t fail him, Blake.You didn’t. You’re looking for someone to blame for that loss, and theeasiesttarget you can find is yourself. Thatdoesn’tmake it true. That self-blame isnotthe truth. It’s just noise repeating itself.” His eyes searched mine, and I wondered ifanypart of him believed what I was saying. “You can’t keep blaming yourself, Blake. Youcan’t. What did you tell me that day I lost that patient? That what happened was entirely out of my control, and there wasnothingthat I could have done differently that would have changed the outcome. The same goes for you. There wasnothingyou could have done. And it’snotyour fault.”
My eyes dropped down. I hadn’t even realized he was fisting the fabric of my—his—sweatshirt in his hand, clinging to me. I covered his hand with my own, squeezing gently, and lookedback at him, my other hand brushing the tears from his cheeks as my heart pounded with empathy.
“It’s not your fault,” I whispered.
Blake leaned forward, resting his forehead on my shoulder, and I gently curled my hand around the back of his neck, tucking my face against his cheek.
After several moments, I broke the silence, trying to lighten the emotions of the moment so he wouldn’t dwell on them. “Tell me something real…”
I heard him let out a soft breath as he lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine. And then he whispered, “When I’m with you…inanycapacity…my thoughts are quiet.”
My expression softened. That’s why he asked me to come with him this weekend. Because I was a safe space for him.
And I washonoredto be that for him.
Chapter 29
Maverick let out a quiet,tired groan from his makeshift bed on the floor as he shifted to sprawl out on his side. I was staring out the window, watching the sunrise with Haley tucked in the crook of my arm and her head resting on my chest.
My mind kept replaying the conversation by the fire last night.
I never meant to unload on Haley. When she asked about Noah, Iwantedto close myself off—to shut her out of that pain—but when I opened my mouth, the truth came pouring out instead. Everything I had buried surged up, raw and unstoppable.
Once I started…I couldn’t stop.
She was the first person I told the whole story to other than Nate, but even with him, most of what he knew he had to pull out of me over several sessions. With her…it was as if I’d been subconsciouslywantingto tell her, waiting for the right moment.
Now, my chest felt strangely unburdened.
I always thought revealing the truth would only add to the guilt and shame gnawing at me, but instead, another piece of that crushing weight lifted. Haley didn’t judge me, didn’t look at me like the failure I saw myself as most days. She simply reached for my hand and, in her calm, gentle voice, told me it wasn’t my fault.
Maybe I didn’t fully believe her yet, but for the first time, I caught myselfwantingto.
I felt Haley stir, and I turned to look at her shifting against my side. She inhaled a deep breath, stretching the sleep from her body before tilting her head as her eyes fluttered open to meet mine.
God, she looked beautiful, even just waking up.
“Hi,” she said, followed by a yawn.
I smiled softly. “Morning.”
She stared at me for a moment. “Sleep okay?”
I knew why she was asking. “Yeah,” I answered, my fingers brushing her arm. And it was the truth. Despite the emotional night, I had slept fine with her by my side.
I felt a cold, wet nose against my hand, and I looked to the side of the bed to see Maverick staring at me expectantly. “You want to eat?” He barked in response, earning a soft chuckle from Haley. I turned my head back, brushing my lips against her forehead before I threw the covers off me as Maverick jumped excitedly. “Alright, come on.”
We spent the rest of the day lounging around the cabin until it was time for us to head home to Bayport—I got Haley back to her townhouse with just enough time for her to shower and get ready before she headed to her mom’s house for their Sunday family dinner. And while I half-expected her to bring up last night, even if it was just a small mention, she didn’t.
A part of me was glad, but at the same time, if she had, I think I would have talked to her about it. And that thought alone told me how muchfinallytelling someone had helped.
