“And that’s the way it’ll stay,” Blake said grimly. “You promised.”
Was it better that Farrah thought he played her instead of cheated on her? Probably not. Given his harsh words the night they broke up, cheating was more redeemable—even if she did hate cheaters. After all, Blake didn’t even remember his night with Cleo.
But that was the point. Blake didn’t want to be redeemable. Farrah deserved a clean break, and she couldn’t get one if she thought he still loved her and just made a mistake over New Year’s. She had to think he never loved her at all. It was the only way she could move on.
A spike hammered into Blake’s heart at the thought of Farrah moving on with someone else.
“Jesus.” Sammy rubbed a hand over his face. “What are you going to do?”
“The only thing I can do. Go home and be a father.”
Sammy’s gaze flicked toward the balcony door. He pushed himself off the railing and clapped a hand on Blake’s shoulder. “Good luck.”
Something in his tone compelled Blake to turn around. His blood ran cold.
Farrah stood in the corner, half-hidden in the shadows. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew every curve of her body. Her scent, the way she moved, it was all imprinted into his memory.
“How long have you been standing there?” His pulse pounded with fear. If she heard what he said…
“Right after Sammy left.” Farrah stepped out of the shadows, and his heart tripped over itself trying to get to her. Standing there bathed in moonlight, she reminded him of the first time they kissed. The Great Wall, the stars, their kiss…they may as well be a dream from a previous life.
Blake shoved his hands into his pockets and clenched them into fists, stopping his runaway emotions in their tracks. “You found your necklace.”
Her pendant rested against her throat, where it belonged. At least one thing went right today.
“Sammy found it.” Farrah fiddled with her necklace. “You guys looked like you were having an intense conversation.”
“We were reminiscing,” Blake lied.
This was their first conversation since the plane ride. Farrah wasn’t ignoring or yelling at him, but he would’ve almost preferred that to her obvious yet civil contempt.
“What time is your flight tomorrow?” Small talk wouldn’t wipe that look off of her face, the one that said she thought he was lower than scum on the bottom of her shoe, but he was desperate to hear her voice.
“Ten in the morning.” Farrah glanced over her shoulder toward the ballroom. “You?”
“Eight. At night. I’m one of the last ones out.”
There was a beat of silence. “Well.” Farrah stepped toward the door. “Have a safe flight.”
“Wait.” Blake didn’t know what made him do it. Maybe it was the fresh air or the fact it was their last night together. Maybe it was a last-ditch attempt to reclaim the magic of a love lost, if only for a moment. Whatever it was, it made him close the gap between them until they were only inches apart. “I need to tell you something.”
Farrah stared up at him, her eyes liquid in the moonlight, her face inscrutable.
“I—” Blake reached for her before he thought twice and dropped his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For everything.” For more than you can know. “I never meant to hurt you. I was a jerk when I broke up with you and I’m sorry.”
He was repeating himself from the plane, but dammit, he needed her to know.
“You were more of a jerk when you cheated on your girlfriend.”
Blake flinched. He deserved that. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch.
“I have something to tell you too.” Farrah’s voice was as smooth and cool as glass. “Thank you.”
He must’ve heard her wrong. “Excuse me?”