His grin widened.Goodness.That grin should be federally regulated.
They shared the slice of cake while conversation drifted easier now.
Safer.
Until Blaze asked quietly:
“Why’d you stop answering my calls?”
Johanna froze.
There it was. The question waiting beneath the entire evening.
The restaurant suddenly felt quieter. Smaller.
Blaze’s gaze stayed steady on hers.
Johanna set her fork down carefully. “Because every time the phone rang, I hoped it was you coming home.”
Blaze went still.
“And after a while…” Her voice softened. “I got tired of being disappointed.”
Pain moved quietly across his face.
Real pain.
“Jo—”
“You left.” The words slipped out before she could soften them. Years of heartbreak tucked inside two simple words.
Blaze leaned back. His jaw tightened. “I know.”
Johanna looked toward the ocean because suddenly looking at him felt too vulnerable. “You promised me distance wouldn’t change anything.”
“Because I believed it.”
She laughed softly.
Silence stretched heavier now.
Real.
When Blaze finally spoke, his voice was rougher. “You think leaving you was easy for me?”
Johanna looked back at him and immediately wished she hadn’t. Because the emotion in his eyes hit too hard.
“I spent years trying to become somebody worthy of what we had,” he admitted quietly. “And by the time I figured out I already had it… you were gone.”
Her breath caught.
The ocean crashed outside. Soft jazz drifted overhead. But suddenly all Johanna could hear was her own heartbeat. Because Blaze wasn’t flirting anymore.
He was telling the truth.
And the terrifying thing was… she believed him.
Blaze looked down briefly before meeting her gaze again. “I’m not asking you to forget what happened.”
