Blazed(53)

He left me panting when he pulled away from me and rocked back onto his heels, staring at me like I'd given him proof that the world was flat. The only other time I'd seen him look so lost is when we let ourselves get caught in this nightmare together in that dressing room. We should have parted ways then.

"Cupcake, no. That's not what I'm doing. Is it?" Scrubbing one hand over his face, he held the other out to me to pull me up from the floor, rising when I did. The tormented way he said my pet name made me want to cry again. "I'm not trying to manipulate you, Emmeline. I just want you to stop feeling like what we're doing is wrong."

"It is wrong. You're married."

"The marriage is what is wrong."

"Yes, because you're cheating a terminally ill woman in more ways than one!"

Blaze sighed and held out an arm, giving me the choice to curl up against his chest. I didn't, and I could have kicked myself for it, but he had to know that my morals were a sticking point. That was part of the reason why I would never tell Hunter how I felt. I didn't mess with anyone's relationship, no matter how much I could justify it afterwards.

"You want to forgive me, don't you?"

I nodded and strode over to the couch, slumping down onto it. "Yes. But I can't. I don't get involved in my dad's business so I can deny accountability when he gets caught screwing over the wrong person. I hate anyone who thinks that money is the be all and end all, worth everything and nothing— that everything should come with a price tag and anything should be sacrificed for it is perverse. If you'd betray a friend to make a quick buck, you have no place in my life. And I think that's what you're doing."

Blaze shook his head and sat down next to me. I didn't resist when he took my hand and pressed it to his lips. "I earned that money, Emmeline. I lost my band, my freedom, six years of my life and now I'm losing you for it. Except you might be the one thing I'll regret losing."

"That's because I'm the only one of those things with a voice. Your freedom can't tell you how cold-hearted and sick it is to take advantage of a dying woman who obviously just wanted to love you."

"You don't understand—"

My fingers shot out to pin his lips shut. "I do. I get it. You need the security and stability. Your youth was a f*cked up muddle of suffering from your dad's murder, and conflicted interests between your family and your ambitions. But I'm sorry, Mr Secure; I'm Miss Unstable, and I can't spend an indeterminable amount of waiting in the wings and wishing death on someone who already hurts enough knowing she's cared for by a man who loves her money more than her."

That shred of honesty stung him. It was obvious from the way he seemed to take an inward look at himself and grimace. I might have been proving to him that his motives were all wrong, but he was proving to himself that his beauty theory was right. He was ugly inside, so ugly. I never could have imagined that there was someone so calculating and callous inside him. But he was seeing it for the first time, and I could tell that he didn't like it.

His eyes dropped down to the floor. "If I give up now, every day I've spent caring for her was a waste."

"Was it such a waste if it led you to me?" My finger traced his Cupid's bow and my breath caught.



"... why do we have our scars?"

"Because we're not beyond hope."



He wasn't beyond hope either, that small scar was that tiny glint of light at the end of the tunnel.

I just knew for myself that I couldn't make him walk towards it. That was a journey he had to make for himself.





Seventeen





I SAGGED BACK and pulled my hand out of Blaze's. "I have to go."

"What?" He made a grab at me but I stood to evade him. I'd made up my mind and was certain that I'd judged the situation well enough to feel some conviction in my decision. "I thought you were starting to understand."

"I do understand." My fists clenched against the urge to stroke his panic-stricken face. "I understand that there are things you just have to do, but I know from experience that you can't make people do them with you. If I grabbed a knife and started cutting myself again, would you do it with me even if you didn't feel the compulsion?"

His brow furrowed while he stopped to think about a question I hadn't really intended him to answer. But I didn't talk because I was curious to see if he got it. "Yeah, I would. So I understood how you felt." I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. He so didn't get it and he was just saying anything to win my favour. That wasn't the way to do it.

"You can't understand and ruin yourself just by joining in, Blaze. Nobody will ever understand the drive and self-loathing that leads to something like that— to want to do something horrible to yourself just so you feel functional. I would never ask you to do that for me."

"But that's nothing like this!" He sprang up to match my eye-level and dug a hand into his pocket to retrieve a ring— My ring. I might have never known the truth if he hadn't given me that ring. By trying to keep hold of me he'd inadvertently pushed me away but I was grateful for it. "Nothing has to change. This can still happen— we didn't want to rush right into it anyway."

"Okay," I conceded, "there's a possibility that it might still happen one day. I'm tweaked enough to wait for you. I wasted nine years on a hopeless cause before so, yes, I will probably spend my life fantasising about a reunion. But I can't wait with you, Blaze. Do you understand that?"

It shred me apart to see him look so unhappy. He'd really plead his case but he couldn't win, not this time, and for once I was the strong one of us. There was no way back from what had transpired between us and it was doubtful that there was a way forward. We were standing at our impasse but neither of us wanted to be the one who turned away first.

"Emmeline, without you I have no reason to— ... Six years is already far long that I thought she'd—" Blaze averted his eyes, knowing he needed to pick his words extremely carefully. "She's held on so much longer than we thought possible. I don't know how much longer I'd be asking you to wait." And that's when I realised how insecure he was. He didn't think that I would wait for him. He maybe didn't know that he was worth waiting for when he was tearing us apart to do this. He would have done anything not to lose me for any amount of time, but I couldn't stay. I just couldn't. He needed closure as much as I did— a definitive answer to the question that would play on his mind. Is she coming back?

It was up to me to make that choice.

"Let's pretend," my voice came out as a hoarse whisper, "that we didn't have all this baggage between us. Let's pretend that this was normal." I stepped up to him and lifted my chin, pushing up onto tiptoes to brush my lip across his. "Let's try it on for size."

"Emmeline." He kissed me with a pained moan and dragged me down onto the couch, sliding his hands underneath my shirt to touch me, skin on skin. My finger brushed down the line of buttons on his over-worn shirt, then set to undoing them, one by one, so the bronze flesh I'd spent that first week itching to see lay open for me. I loved that he was naturally smooth and hairless, perfectly toned without trying. He was usually so warm to touch, but this time he was cold, almost shivering.

His thumbs hooked into my waistband and pulled my trousers down until I had to shift to kick them off along with my shoes. He lifted just enough to pull his own lower garments down for me to reach and stroke myself across his thick, throbbing penis. He was still hard, even now, still aching to be as inside me as physically possible. This was the only way we understood each other.

I pulled my underwear to one side and let him sink into me. There was an overwhelming sense of relief, regret, sadness and acceptance while I adjusted to his depth. This felt final. This was the last time we'd make love and once it was over, I'd go out of my way to make sure he didn't appear in my life again so neither of us tortured ourselves waiting for each other. He'd be just like every other man who could never match up to Hunter. Nameless. Faceless. I'd deny that I ever fell in love.

The finality made me miserable. Bowing my head, I pulled his against me and cradled it while I fought back the tears. I didn't want to let go.

"Emmeline?" Blaze's arms entombed me by the waist, pawing at me restlessly. "Why does it feel like you're saying goodbye to me?"

The tears came with my sigh. He looked up at me, eyes shining with tears of his own and my chin quivered. Despite being mostly covered, I'd never felt more naked. "Let's make it a good one, okay?"



WE both cried the entire time we were joined together, both of us too scared to jump the precipice that would separate us forever. Wet kisses covered every inch of flesh during something so melancholic even the part of me that drove me to hurting myself snapped. I just didn't have it in me, not anymore. Whatever was left over when Blaze was gone, I would have to rebuild into some semblance of a human. There was nothing left of Emmeline White for me to piece back together because in the time I'd known him, he'd blown it all to hell. I didn't know who I was without him, but that was better than knowing who I'd be if I stayed. At least there was nothing of a husk to hate.