Blake Ch. 10

Author's Note: When I started writing, I really had no clue what I was doing. This series was my first attempt at writing anything, so when I submitted the first chapter, I didn't know where I was going to go with the story. In all honesty, I didn't know until about chapter four or five, so there was a lot of uncertainty in the story.

That being said, this chapter is much longer than the others because it is designed to clarify the uncertainty and close up some plot lines. There is a lot of plot, but it is framing up the final few chapters of the series. So if you're not big on plot, sorry in advanced. I will try to make it up in the last few chapters.

Speaking of which, the next chapter will not be done until optimistically late August, early September. I will be writing another novel/novella and want to devote my full attention to that story. Sorry in advanced and as always, thank you for reading.

CHAPTER TEN

My blood was boiling and my jaw was clenched as I hurried down the street and away from my apartment. I was moving as fast as I could in heels, but it wasn't fast enough for my liking. A block away, I could hear a voice calling out to me, but I chose to ignore it, even as it drew closer.

Soon, Blake was just over my shoulder, trying to catch up to me.

"Kaitlin, please stop!"

"Fuck off, Blake," I yelled, not caring if I made a scene.

In a few strides, Blake was able to jump in front of me, effectively cutting off my path. When I looked up at him, he looked desperate and scared.

"Kaitlin please let me explain."

"No. I'm not going to listen to you try and weasel your way out of this with more of your lies."

I tried to maneuver around him, doing my best not to touch him. He countered my movement, refusing to let me pass.

"I would never lie to."

"Bullshit!" I screamed. "Everything you've told me from the beginning was a lie. You never had any intention of leaving Desiree."

"I have every intention of leaving her."

"I didn't know you buy engagement rings for women you plan to break up with."

"You don't understand."

"There's nothing too difficult to the equation, Blake. I saw the ring myself, held it in my fucking hand. I saw the engraving. 'Desiree and Blake.' I doesn't get any fucking clearer."

I moved passed him and hurried down the street. Blake was able to keep up with me easily.

"There's more to it than that. If you'd let me expl-"

"I don't care anymore, Blake. You lied to me. You led me to believe that you wanted me, but all along I was your little fuck toy."

"You've never been that to me. You know I think of you a-"

"As your girlfriend?" I interrupted, knowing exactly what lie he was going to use to try to suppress my rage. I wasn't buying it.

I stopped suddenly and faced him, anger seething through every part of my body. He looked fearful as to what I was going to say next.

"No, I'm definitely not that. She's up in her apartment getting thoroughly fucked by two other guys. I'm just your lowly secretary who is willing to suck your cock and let you fuck me in the office when you've had a rough day at work."

"No, you're not." The expression on his face matched the pleading in his voice. He was desperate.

"You're the only person who brings me joy and happiness. The only woman who likes me for the person I am, not my money. The one who understands dedication and hard work, the one who shares my idea of earning everything. I know this looks bad, but I'm going to fight and earn your trust back. Just give me a chance."

"How stupid do you think I am? Why the hell should I give you any more chances?" I was far from a charitable mood.

"Because I love you, Kaitlin."

I was caught off guard by his admission. If he had confessed this too me at any time during the past week, I would have been overjoyed, but now, I couldn't believe him. I didn't know if it was how he truly felt or if it was some ploy to win me over.

"How dare you! How dare you try and use that against me."

Blake took a step back, surprised at my reaction and hurt by my response. He straightened himself and tried to hide the pain, still pleading with me.

"It's true. I am madly in love with you and want a future with you."

"I'm not going to fall for that. You don't want a future with me. You just want me to stick around for an easy fuck. You want a future with Desiree."

I turned to leave again, knowing he would most likely follow me again, but I needed to move; it was the only thing that was keeping me from slapping him across the face.

"I'm not marrying her," he shouted to me.

"No, Blake. I want you to marry her," I replied, my back still facing him.

"You don't mean that."

It might have been his disbelief or it could have been that my anger had finally hit a tipping point, but I snapped.

"Yes, I do," I yelled, turning to face him. He was caught off guard by my reaction and took a step back.

"I want you to marry her. I want you to plan a lavish, expensive fucking wedding. I want you to travel to an exotic locale for your honeymoon and fuck her on the beach. I want you to spend years of your life with her. I want you to sit in the delivery room, holding her baby and wonder if it is actually yours or some other asshole's. And when she tires of you, because I know she will. When she tires of you, I want her to drag your ass through divorce court and take every fucking thing from you. Your money, your company, your reputation, everything. And when you have nothing left, I want you to look back on your life and see this moment. I want you to see that everything after this point is going to be karma getting back at you for fucking with my emotions, for destroying a woman who fooled herself into loving you."

Blake stood silent for a long moment, stunned at what I had said. I had no regrets about a single word of it. I wanted him to marry her. They were both horrible people who could care less about anyone else; they deserved each other.

I hailed a cab, wanting to escape him. I was done with this conversation and I had made up my mind. As the cab pulled up next to me, Blake made one final plea.

"Kaitlin. Please."

He reached for me, his eyes pained. I was cold to his expression of desperation. His hand touched my shoulder and he tried to pull me into him. I pushed him away from me and he stumbled backwards.

"Don't fucking touch me! I never want you to touch me again. I never want to see your face again. I'm done with you, Blake. You and Desiree deserve each other. So go back to your whore. I'm sure she can find a hole for you to fill."

I jumped in the cab without a second glance and urged the driver to speed off. I didn't look back at Blake, partly due to my disgust with him, but also because I didn't want to cry. Seeing him had rained more sorrow down upon me, which was sitting beneath the rage. I knew if I looked at him, standing alone and devastated on the sidewalk, the tears would reach the surface and I would come undone in the back on the taxi.

I hoped my anger would last, as it was my dam against the waterfall. I needed it to last just long enough for me to get far away from Blake and somewhere I could finally be alone to cry in peace.

***

A short ride to the train station, followed by an hour train ride, I arrived in my hometown in Stamford. The entire train ride home, I kept thinking about everything Blake had done to make me angry. It was the only way I could keep from having a breakdown during the trip.

I got in another cab and took a short ride to my childhood home. Nothing had changed since I had left for the city six years ago.

"Katie, sweetheart. What are you doing here? Why didn't you call first?" Rebecca was shocked to see me. I hadn't seen her since I moved out. She had aged well in the last six years and had seemed to be taking care of herself. It was encouraging that maybe she had changed from the person I was relieved to be away from.

"Sorry to just drop in unannounced mom, but it's kind of a spur of the moment situation." She leaned in, giving me a hug.

"Come on in, sweetie, and tell me what's going on."

The inside of my family home was unrecognizable. All the old furniture was gone, replaced by new, more expensive pieces. The yellowed walls of the living room and been painted a calming sky blue. It felt foreign to me and did nothing to help me feel safe and secure. I was afraid there was nowhere left me in the world to feel comfort

She gestured for me to sit on the brown leather sofa, sitting beside me. She looked at me, urging me with her eyes to tell her my story.

"I got a new job last week and it's just stressful." She nodded in understanding, but continued to look at me for details. I was reluctant to give them to her, but decided that maybe a little discretionary venting would do me some good.

"My boss was complicated and so work was overly complicated. I didn't want to be there anymore and I resigned this morning. Things didn't get better when I got home. My roommate is making it worse by being, well, Desiree." She rolled her eyes when I mentioned Desiree. We had shared numerous conversations about her behavior over the years.

"I just need a few days away to sort some things out. Is it okay if I stay here for the weekend?"

She embraced me, stroking the back of my head to keep me calm. While I appreciated the gesture, it did nothing to make me feel better. I just needed to be alone and I was hoping she would give me that alone time soon enough.

"Oh honey, of course. I'm so sorry for everything." She pulled away from me and pushed a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. "You know," she continued, "if you had a man in your life, he could help you through these stressful times."

There was the Rebecca I knew, the mother who believed that a person with a cock could solve all her problems. I knew it was too good to be true that she had disappeared. I sighed before continuing with her new, undesirable line of conversation.

"A man is actually part of my problems mom. I had a man, and I left said man. He was making my life crazy."

"I'm sorry sweetie," she said, all while cocking an eyebrow in disbelief. "He just wasn't the right man. You'll find him."

That's exactly what I needed at this moment, encouragement from the world's most notorious serial dater.

"Thanks, mom."

We sat in silence for a moment. I was hoping she would give me the segue to leave to the seclusion of my room, but it never came. I was about ask to be excused, like a child at the dinner table, but she had some news for me.

"There is going to be a slight problem. I'm actually leaving in a few minutes with Travis."

"Travis?"

"My boyfriend. We've been dating for three months and things are starting to get really serious. He's amazing! Kind, sweet, caring, charming, rich, fun..."

A giant pit grew in my stomach as she spoke about her man. As she described him, my thoughts were brought back to Blake. He had been all those things to me. Now he was nothing more than a liar who took advantage of me. Tears welled in my eyes as the glimpses of our time together circled through my mind. It was all a lie that I had loved and believed.

"You'd love h-" Rebecca paused, seeing the emotional toll it was taking on me. Although she had a habit of being dim witted, she wasn't cruel and it was never intentional. "Sorry, I got carried away."

"Yea, just a little," I tried to laugh, fighting back the tears.

My mother wrapped her arms around me, instantly becoming more comforting and matronly than before.

"Anyways, we're leaving for a cruise and I'll be gone all weekend and next week" she continued, softly. "You're still welcome to stay, but I won't be here."

"That's fine, mom. I just need to be away from the city. You go have fun with Travis."

"You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like."

Almost on cue, a honk came from outside in her driveway. My mother kissed the top of my forehead, gave me a final hug and left.

I sat in the living room for a moment as the threat of my tears loomed over me. I was finally completely alone. I felt uncomfortable sitting in a house that no longer felt my own. I considered leaving and finding a hotel to stay in, but decided against it. I was exhausted from the trip and wasn't in the mood to have to find a place to stay this late.

I grabbed my bag and stoically ascended the steps to the second floor. I traveled down the hall and stopped outside the door that had been my bedroom. I was nervous to open it and see that it no longer belonged to me anymore.

I took a deep breath and opened the door. For the first time since I had made my discovery this morning, I felt at ease. The familiar dark rose-colored walls greeted me when I entered. On them, where pictures of friends from high school and college, posters of bands, and a bulletin board full of concert ticket stubs. My dark wood furniture was still in the same place I had left it. My bed was dressed in sheets and pillows of various shades of pink. My bookcase still held all my favorite novels and movies that I had never returned to claim.

On my desk rested my photo album from my childhood, including many pictures of me and my father. My hand glossed over the top of it and I thought about opening it, but couldn't bring myself to do it. What would my father think of all this if he were still alive? What would he have done? Knowing him, he would have found Blake and beat him senseless for hurting his little girl. The thought brought a small smirk to my face. How I missed him.

I sat on the bed and removed my uncomfortable shoes before pulling my legs up into my chest. I looked around my room again, taking in all the familiar sights. I was in the safest place I could think of. It was my place, a place where I had complete control of everything. It was something that had been lacking from my life for the last few weeks.

Finally, in control, I laid back on my pillow and let the tears fall freely.

***

I awoke the next morning to the sunlight trickling in through my bedroom window. I was still dressed in my work clothes from the day before. Peering down at my pillow, I noticed it was stained with makeup and still slightly damp. I must had cried myself to sleep and possibly cried during my dreams.

I rose from my bed in a groggy state. I didn't want to do anything and the idea of laying back down and never leaving my bed seemed desirable. As I turned to lie back down, I caught sight of the photo album on my desk. Without thinking, I walked over and retrieved it, taking it back into bed with me. On the dusty cover was a photo of my parents in the hospital, holding a newborn me. It was the happiest I had ever seen them.

I opened the book and scanned the pictures on the pages. Many of the photos were of my father and me: one of us cutting the grass on his riding mower, another of me helping him at work, one of him pushing me on the swings.

One photo towards the back of the album caught my attention. I must have been no more than six years old. I was asleep in his arms on the couch, my arm wrapped in a pink cast. He was holding me closely, his hand on the back of head while he kissed my forehead. I remembered the incident vividly. I had just returned from the hospital after breaking my arm. I had fallen out of the tree in my yard. My parents were divorced by then, but when my father heard, he immediately ran to the hospital to comfort me. I was in tears and almost inconsolable. When we came home, my dad just held me closely, telling me everything was going to be okay; that lingering on the pain did nothing and that I had to keep trekking on, even though it hurt. Back then, his words made me upset, but his embrace brought me comfort.

Now I didn't have his embrace to bring me out of my dark place, to make me feel that everything was going to be alright. All I had were his words and they were where I would have to find my comfort. His words were true now. I could sit here and cry about the pain, but it would accomplish nothing. I had to start to piece my life back together. That's what my father would have done and if he saw me now, that's what he would advise me to do. This was going to take hard work, but working hard was what I was good at.

A tear of relief rolled down my cheek as I shut the album.

"Thanks, dad," I whispered to myself.

***

When I was finally clean and presentable, I set to the task of finding a new job and a new apartment. I pulled my laptop out of my bag and fired it up. When I did that, my cellphone clattered out of my bag and onto the floor. It was completely dead, so I stuck it on the charger.

I was scanning through the listings and making note of some places when my phone finally had enough charge to turn on. Immediately, it went crazy with notifications. I wasn't all that surprised, given how I had acted the day before.

I scanned through them. I had an email from Arthur, telling me that although he had received my letter of resignation, it was tentative pending a meeting with him. He told me to swing by his office whenever I was ready and wished me well. I was going to miss working for such a sweet man and I would be lucky if I could find an employer who was have as nice as he was.

The next notification was a text from Vance, checking to see if I was okay. I immediately texted him back, letting him know I was fine and I just needed sometime alone, making sure to thank him for his concern.

There was also a lengthy text from Desiree, who spent page upon page, bitching me out for bringing Blake to the apartment unannounced and getting her in trouble. I got about a third of the way through it before deleting it. I was not going to miss living with her at all.

Finally, I had numerous voicemails, texts, and even an email from Blake. In each one, he begged me for forgiveness and pleaded with me to contact him, saying he wanted to come clean about everything. A small part of me wanted to reach out to him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't know what I could believe from him or if I was emotionally ready to face him again. I exited the apps and returned to the apartment listings, deciding not to waste any time on it now.

For the rest of the day, I called apartments to schedule times to view them but was only able to secure one appointment. It would do for now. I also looked through the job listings, but didn't find anything available in my area of expertise. I decided I needed a break and spent the rest of my day doing pointless things to distract me.

Sunday was no different. I was parked in front of the TV early in the morning watching bad television and worse movies. The ringing of the doorbell had drawn me from my own little world and was about to pull me right back out into the real one.

I was shocked when I opened the door. Arthur was standing in front of me in a long, black dress coat. Vance was behind him, also dressed all in black. I wasn't sure how they found me, but I didn't have a moment to process that. The looks on both of their faces spoke of dread and concern.

"Mr. Owens."

He smiled, meekly.

"You can still call me Arthur, Kaitlin. There is no need for formalities. May we come in?"

"Of course."

Arthur slipped past me into the living room. Vance followed, but stopped in front of me, taking me in his strong embrace. It was unexpected, but welcomed. I needed a hug from a friend about now.

"Are you okay? I was worried sick about you," he whispered into my ear. His voice was full of concern.

"I'm fine. Better now. There's no need to worry," I reassured him with a smile.

"I wish that was entirely true."

His statement left me uneasy as he walked into the house. What could he possibly mean by that?

I gestured for them to sit down before commencing with the usually pleasantries of being a host to guests, expected or otherwise.