An argument ensued when Kiefer actually got home, at one in the morning. Arguments were Blake's kryptonite. She'd felt the anxiety rising like bile in her throat every since she'd decided that it was going to happen. He'd ignored four text messages. Blake was not someone to triple text. A double text could be excused, but if you ignored two, you were doing it on purpose. It was acceptable to ignore Blake, but when Zelda asked about Papa, it became a problem. She hadn't wanted to go to bed because he wasn't home. He'd also promised to play Candyland with her that day, and she was very upset going to bed with a broken promise.
Words like "Where were you" were said, when words like "what is wrong with you?" might have been apt. "I texted you" was said, when "I shouldn't have had to" ought to have been tacked on. "You said you'd be home," didn't hit the same as "is this going to be a habit?" "It was your day off" really meant "this was our day off together." When he pushed, saying he'd meant to be home earlier, Blake managed the words that made her wring her hands. "Good intentions don't fix absence." He looked at her, about to argue something more, when she finally managed to remind him of his promise.
"She went to bed upset. You promised to play with her. She waited all day. She's hurt." She was hurt. Both females were hurt, but only one could be brought up. "You need to make it up to her." Another statement that could read for multiple ladies.
He looked genuinely remorseful when the words settled in. It was too late for this. He had work the next day. Blake had work the next day. She was tired and couldn't sleep even if she'd wanted to. She felt like throwing up. He came over and hugged her. The tension slowly drained out of her veins. It had been holding her up, and she held onto him now to keep her standing.
"I'm sorry. I'll take off early tomorrow." He kissed her forehead. Smiling, as if he hoped that she would return the gesture. She did, but it wasn't much.
"Where were you?"
He looked surprisingly thoughtful when she asked. She felt her grip on his sleeved tighten. "With friends." Sounded innocent enough. "I was being irresponsible. Sorry. I'll make it up to Zelda, and you."
Hopefully.
When Blake finished her work for the day she was greeted with a text from the front desk girl. A picture of Mary with blue hair. She'd been right. Blake could have seen the dye job earlier if she still followed that gossip site.
YOU ARE READING
Beginning of the end
Historia CortaBlake loves him very much. She has loved him for years. How can she not love the father of her child, her fiance? There are bumps and bruises along the way, but Blake is sure that in the end, when they get married, it will all be alright. It has to...
