Cleo Bowden.
His ex-girlfriend. Ex-fiancée. Ex-mother of his child.
It had been four years since Blake had last spoken to her. Their last conversation had been stilted and awkward to the point of physical pain. It’d been right before Cleo transferred schools and moved to Atlanta. Her grandparents lived there, and her parents thought it would be good for her to get away from the bad memories. Cleo had been a shell of herself, withdrawn and in pain. Blake had been spiraling, consumed by guilt and self-hatred.
Two broken people who should’ve never been together, united by tragedy.
“I didn’t know you were in Austin,” Blake managed to say.
Did his family know she was back in town? No. If they did, they would’ve told him. Plus, they’d lost touch with Cleo a long time ago. It’d been too painful for the Ryans and the Bowdens to be around each other, knowing there was one less person in their family.
Because of me.
“I moved back a few months ago.” Cleo looked good. Glowing, even. Her face and figure had filled out since their college days, but the catlike eyes and dark ringlets remained the same. “After, well.” She gestured at herself with a blush.
It took Blake a minute to figure out what she was pointing to. When he did, his heart stopped.
Cleo wore a long, flowy dress that camouflaged it well, but now that he looked closer, it was unmistakable. A baby bump.
“I’m sorry.” A hint of sympathy crept into the doctor’s eyes as Cleo gripped Blake’s hand so hard he flinched. “I’m afraid you’ll no longer be able to have children.”
“H-how?” Blake didn’t believe in miracles, but he’d heard the doctor with his own ears. The car accident had rendered Cleo infertile. Too much damage to her fallopian tubes. Yet here she was, basking in the glow onl
y expecting mothers had.
The whole situation was surreal.
“IVF. In vitro fertilization. The first time didn’t work. Second time did, against all odds.” Cleo’s eyes swam. “Kind of a miracle, huh?”
“Yeah.” He squeezed the word past the lump in his throat. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you.” Blake meant it. One of the things that’d haunted him most from that night was knowing he’d fucked up Cleo’s future and dreams of starting a family.
Some of the guilt in his stomach eased. There was a shit ton left, but he felt just the tiniest bit lighter. “Who’s the father?”
Cleo’s ears pinked. “My accountant. I know what you’re thinking,” she rushed to add. “But he’s sweet. Stable. I could use stability in my life.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and the diamond on her finger flashed beneath the lights. “We got married last summer,” Cleo explained when she saw Blake’s questioning glance. “We moved to Austin after I got pregnant because my parents wanted me close, and they couldn’t move to Georgia because of my dad’s job, so here I am.”
“That’s great.”
There was a beat of silence before they both issued awkward laughs.
“Man, this is crazy.” Blake rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well. I’ve…well, I’ve always wondered how you were doing.”
Blood. Metal. Screams.
His ears rang with faded memories.
“I was in a dark place for a while,” Cleo admitted. “I took some time off school, too. There’ll always be a part of me that—” She swallowed. “Anyway, losing a child is not something you ever get over, but I’ve found my peace.” She searched his face. “And you? How are you?”
“I’m okay.”
“Heard you’re the king of the sports club world now.” Her mouth tilted up in a small smile.
“Hardly,” Blake said, even though he kind of was.
“Don’t be humble. You never were good at it,” she teased. Cleo fiddled with her shopping basket. “Listen, Blake. I’ve had a lot of time to think over these past few years, and there’s something I need to tell you. Something I should’ve told you a long time ago.”
Guilt flitted through her eyes, which didn’t make sense. What did she have to be guilty about?
Blake had been the one behind the wheel. He’d been the one who’d insisted they drive to Cleo’s place after he and his father had some ridiculous argument, even though it’d been storming so hard you couldn’t hear yourself over the rain. He’d swerved to avoid a deer, smashed into a tree, and killed both their son and relationship in one go.