Chapter Twenty-Five
Blake shuffled his way into the darkened living room, blinking against the light. He’d fallen asleep earlier, and then woken up alone, in the dark, unsure what time it was.
The answer was five minutes to midnight. Which meant he’d missed the rest of the wedding.
He’d seen the important part. He’d watched his sister glowing at the altar, promising herself to a man she clearly, for some reason, loved. Blake wasn’t in the mood to judge her anymore.
He hoped this was the beginning of her living a happier, more fulfilling life.
Rusty was sitting on the couch, his tie hanging loose around his neck and his top three shirt buttons open, jacket nowhere to be seen. His head was tilted back, his eyes closed, the light spilling in from the kitchen just enough to highlight his two-day stubble.
He started awake as Blake approached, looking over at him and blinking.
“Oh,” he said, a tiny smile spreading across his face. “I told people you had a headache.”
“Thanks.” Blake smiled at that. Rusty really had been the perfect husband, in more ways than Blake thought he realized.
Most of it seemed to come naturally.
His stomach twisted as he looked down at the papers in his hand. He didn’t want to do this, but a promise was a promise, and Rusty hadmorethan held up his end of the bargain.
Blake’s mom was never going to worry about him again, as long as Megan didn’t tell. That was all he’d wanted. For his family to think he was okay.
And hewasokay, mostly.
He just would have liked to have someone like Rusty for real.
Well, no. Not someonelikeRusty.
Rusty, specifically.
But he couldn’t ask for that, and he knew it. Rusty had come all the way out here for a divorce, and he’d been kind about it, but it was obviously what he wanted.
It’d been fun while it lasted.
“Here,” Blake said, holding the papers out before he could get any more upset over it. “As promised. You’ve been amazing.”
Rusty blinked at him again, taking the papers with a frown. His eyes widened a moment later when he looked at them.
“I’d almost forgotten,” he said. “Thanks. For not making this harder than it had to be.”
Blake raised an eyebrow. “Dragging you to a wedding and making you pretend to be my husband wasn’t harder than it had to be?”
Rusty shrugged, shuffling over on the couch to make room for Blake. Blake couldn’t resist the urge to sit with him, letting himself indulge in curling up beside him, his head resting on Rusty’s shoulder.
Since he didn’t get any complaints, he assumed that was okay.
“Hasn’t been so bad,” Rusty said, rubbing his thumb against Blake’s shoulder, encouraging him to let him take more of his weight. “I’ve made friends, got to play a gig, scored free room and board for a few days… I’ve had worse weeks.”
Blake laughed softly. Rusty was a glass half full kinda guy.
“I’m gonna miss this,” Blake confessed, not sure he should be saying so, but not wanting Rusty to think he’d be glad to be rid of him. “I’d like to think of you as a friend, if that’s okay?”
Rusty chuckled. “Don’t worry, you’re stuck with me now. Friends for life.”
“Good.” Blake let himself snuggle closer, happy to soak up Rusty’s presence while he still had it.
“You should come visit me sometime,” Rusty said. “You’d like Melbourne. It’s like this place, but bigger.”
