If the Sun Never Sets - Ana Huang Page 0,66
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.
He hadn’t done it on purpose, but the guilt had weighed on his conscience every night since, especially when Blake remembered his prayer. He’d woken up at three a.m. one night before the accident, drenched with sweat at the thought of becoming an unexpected father at age twenty-two, and sent a silent missive to the heavens.
Please make this all go away.
A week later, the accident happened.
Blake hadn’t been thinking miscarriage. He hadn’t been thinking at all. He’d just been panicked and exhausted, and even though he wasn’t a super religious person, he couldn’t help but wonder if the accident had been God’s way of punishing him for his shitty, selfish, off-the-cuff prayer.
“Can you meet me at our old place tonight?” Cleo glanced around. “I don’t want to talk about it here.”
Their old place—the playground they’d frequented as teenagers, back in the good old days when they were nothing more than friends. They used to stay up through the night, swinging on the swings and staring at the sky, musing about what their futures would look like.
Neither had expected things to turn out the way they did.
“Of course.” Curiosity burned a hole in Blake’s stomach. Before he could ask her for more information, the scent of Old Spice assaulted his senses.
Blake winced. He only knew one person who wore Old Spice.
“Blake Ryan.” Daniel Bowden’s scowl could’ve melted stone. “Didn’t know you’d crawled back into town.”
“Dad,” Cleo hissed.
“Cleo, go meet your mother at the checkout counter.”
“Dad, leave Blake alone. We just ran into each other.”
“Now, Cleo!”
She grit her teeth but did as he bid. Playground, eight o’clock, she mouthed behind Daniel’s back.
Blake blinked his agreement.
Once Cleo was out of earshot, Daniel jabbed a finger at Blake’s chest. To most people, he was an intimidating man. Six feet four inches of corded muscle and fiery energy, all of which he aimed at his daughter’s ex.
He’d liked Blake well enough when he’d dated Cleo. Hated him when he broke Cleo’s heart. Fucking loathed him after the accident.
It’d been a rapid and ugly fall for the relationship between Blake and his ex-future-father-in-law, and if there was one thing Daniel Bowden was good at, it was holding grudges.
“Mr. Bowden—”
“Shut up,” Daniel growled. “And stay away from my daughter. I don’t want you talking to her. I don’t want you even looking at her. You’ve hurt her enough. She’s finally found someone who treats her right, and I will not let you screw that up.”
“I wasn’t plan—”
Daniel continued like Blake wasn’t speaking, and his next words turned Blake’s blood to ice.
“You’ve been toying with her emotions since you were old enough to vote, and I won’t let you mess things up for her again. Because that’s what you do. You screw up people’s lives. The world sees a golden pretty boy, but I see you for what you really are: a black star, a heartbreaker, and a selfish