“And outside that, I won’t make any other decisions until…later.”
“I think this is wise, Blake.”
“Okay,” I said. “Good talk.”
She smiled at me and this one wasn’t fake.
I smiled back and mine was.
“Is that all?” Christine asked.
“For now, yes. Thanks for coming up here, Christine.”
“My pleasure, luv. Are you sure you don’t want to come down for a spot of tea? I made a Victoria sponge for your dinner. It’s one of your favorites.”
She was always so kind to me.
Always.
“We can cut into it a little early,” she suggested.
“I’ll wait for dinner. But how about you eat with me? Erin too.”
I could tell she wasn’t entirely comfortable with that.
“We can do it down in the kitchen,” I said. “It’s cozier there.”
She got up and put her hand on the desk. “What I think is that you need to ring your little sister, or someone, and pour your heart out. That’s what I think.” She pushed away from the desk. “But in the meantime, I’ll set up supper in the kitchen for six thirty.”
“Thank you, Christine.”
She gave me a long, lingering look, pushed out a concerned breath and left the room.
I was not calling Alex, that I knew.
She would be lovely. Supportive. Everything I didn’t deserve her to be.
And I didn’t need that.
Especially not now, when the memories were so fresh of what an absolute bitch I’d been to her.
Dad was now so overprotective, he might get mad at Dair, when Dair was just protecting himself.
So Dad was out.
I was close with all of the G-Force, particularly a couple of members.
But they’d now met Dair too, and I could tell, they liked him very much, especially for me. They’d probably lean my way, but all of them knew the mean girl I used to be, so they’d get where he was coming from, and I didn’t need that either.
There was also Hale, who was always there for me, but ditto on the overprotective thing.
The bottom line was, I didn’t have anyone to blame for this but myself.
Maybe someday, I’d find another Chad, and put up with his cheating and neglect, but perhaps I’d be able to raise our children so they didn’t turn out to be assholes.
Like me.
Or maybe someday I’d be like Mum. Foot loose and fancy free, fucking young studs and living it up in St. Tropez.
