When I Met You

Chapter 17 - Blake's POV

In the middle of fucking my newly hired assistant, my phone began blowing up. Are you fucking kidding me right now? I love her, but she's a fucking needy bitch. What the fuck does she want at two in the fucking morning? Shoving aside the woman crawling on top of me⎯Stacey, I think or Tracy, maybe her name was Lacy⎯I half-heartedly apologized, reaching for my phone. To my shock, I realized it wasn't Chelsea at all. It was Harper. What the hell does she want? Didn't I fucking tell her that I had other options? It's her own fucking fault for being slow. Too late now, I suppose.

At least 5 missed messages displayed on my screen:

Ok, first of all. Huge. Fucking. Problem.

Chels knows about us.

Dickhead! You better fucking read these messages! You're screwed! Go fix it, now!

Selfish bastard! I knew I should have called it quits after the first time. You were a fucking mistake and now you hurt my best friend. She loved you, and I know you love her still. Leave your fucking whore and pick up the damn phone!

Nevermind. Fuck You! This is all your motherfucking fault! You can fix it on your own! I hope she never takes you back, you selfish son of a bitch! P.S. We are done!

3 missed calls from her as well.

Holy Shit! I really am screwed!

Within 5 minutes I'm all cleaned up and speeding to Chelsea's apartment. Fuck!

This car won't go fast enough! The rain was pouring down on the windshield as the darkness swallowed my headlights. Green light. Only 500 feet away. Yellow light. Only 100 feet away. I'm going a good 80 miles per hour. I can make it! I have to make it for Chels!

I was making my way through the intersection as the traffic light flashed red.

* * *

My nostrils inhaled the faintest smell of death and an overly clean kitchen. It was a weird combination that I wasn't accommodated to. Dim artificial light peeked through my eyelids as I awoke from my slumber. I was laying on the most uncomfortable mattress with scratchy linen rubbing against my skin. A shiver ran down my spine when I noticed the IV dangling in my vein. Why the fuck was I in the hospital?

I had so many questions and little to no answers. I grew even more confused when I looked up to see a beautiful, but obviously exhausted Chelsea sitting by my side. A smile creeped its way onto her freckled face. "You're awake. I was so worried." Worried? My arm began bitterly stinging as her hand retreated. Ouch. "Don't fucking do this shit again! Jesus, Blake. You had us all worried as hell! Fuck, I had to drop out of school."

"W-what happened?" I never felt more guilt than that moment. She worked her fucking ass off for tuition and she dropped everything for me. Hell, I fucking cheated on my girlfriend and she was here. As I was dying, a glimmer of hope made me realize, my girlfriend still loves me!

"You were being a fucking idiot! That's what fucking happened, Blake! What were you thinking driving 80 miles per hour in the pouring rain? You ran a fucking red light and nearly killed two innocent people. And, you? You scared me, baby. I thought I lost you. Three weeks!" The tears fell down, caressing her cheeks. Fuck, what have I done? She finally managed through the uncontrollable sobs. "You w-were unconscious for th-three whole weeks. I-I love you, B-Blake."

I sat there in silence. Her sadness always made me uncomfortable, because I didn't know what to do or say without worsening the situation. She loved me. Even after everything I've done, I knew she'd always come running back to me. However, I didn't expect her to run back this time, and yet she was here. I decided the least I could was attempt to comfort her as she leaned over the bed, still sitting in her chair. Lying her head in my lap, I smoothed out her hair as I whispered, "I love you, more."