Turning Pages

Chapter Twenty-four

TWENTY-FOUR 

Blake seemed a lot more like himself the next day, and he actually smiled and talked to me and stuff. Melanie clocked out at five, and Blake and I finished the night on separate sides of the library. I handled the last of the patrons, then shooed the lingerers out the door and flipped the sign to CLOSED. 

"That was a really long day." I sat down on one of the couches and closed my eyes for a minute. I had some things to do, but they could wait for just one second. 

When I opened my eyes, I saw that Blake was wearing his distant face again, the one that told me he was shutting everyone out. He's not a sulky person, and I knew something had to be bothering him or he wouldn't be acting this way. Part of being on the Bad Breakup Brigade means not letting the broken-up-with person suffer alone. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and walked over to where he was gathering up the magazines scattered all over the tables. 

"Blake," I said softly, "do you want to talk about it? Is Tara-"  

"She's fine," he interrupted. "We're both fine, actually. I talked to her for a while the other day, and we both feel good about how things turned out." 

If Tara wasn't responsible for the way he'd been acting, it had to be me. He'd somehow picked up on my "I love Blake" vibe and was trying to let me down easy by keeping his distance. 

"I thought she and I had a good foundation," he said, "but we didn't, so it's better this way." 

"I know how important that is to you." I would never forget the talk we'd had sitting on the library floor with Melanie when he played Dr. Phil and gave relationship advice. At the time, I'd thought I wanted a guy like Blake-I didn't realize I wanted Blake. "I'm sorry."  

"No, it's okay. Seriously. I've had some time now to step back and look things over, and she was right. I'm not cut out to be married to a ruthless lawyer." He studied the cover of the magazine he held. "And I can't marry her when I'm in love with someone else."  

"But you're here all the time. You're a classic workaholic. Who . . ."  

As his words sank in, I fell silent, realizing what he was trying to tell me. I blinked, attempting to hold back the tears, but two slid down my cheeks anyway. Blake met my gaze, his own eyes filled with anguish, and he dropped the magazines on the table. They slid every which way, but it didn't matter, because he was crossing the room, and he was taking me in his arms and kissing my cheeks, wiping away my tears with his lips. 

He pulled back and looked at me for the smallest moment, then lowered his head and brought his mouth to mine. His arms cradled me against his chest, his lips were soft and sweet, and my heart leaped out and wrapped around his. I could not believe he was kissing me. I could have died of happiness at that moment. "I love you," he whispered into my hair. 

"I . . . I love you too," I said, wishing I could come up with something wonderfully poetic to match the way I felt inside. Just repeating "I love you," without adding anything to it, seemed kind of unoriginal. He didn't seem to care, though-his face broke out into a wide grin and he pulled me in for another one of those amazing, sense-defying kisses, making me feel beautiful and confident and very, very wanted all at the same time. 

"But wait." I pulled back against my will. "I'm not a homewrecker. Please tell me your breakup wasn't all my fault. I couldn't handle that." 

"I told you-we'd been having problems for a long time, Addie. Even if I had never moved here and taken this job, Tara and I would have struggled. I was playing ostrich, sticking my head in the sand and ignoring what was going on around me. Our breakup was inevitable."