Page 79 of Drive Me Crazy
“Ella, baby. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I can’t do this,” I interrupt. “Not now.”
“You can’t do what?” The unspoken questions hang in the air.
I can’t do this conversation? This relationship?
“I don’t know.” My voice cracks as I fight to get words out. “I need … space.”
“Okay,” he agrees quickly. “I can get you from Josie’s tomorrow and—”
“No.”I’m trembling, struggling to find my breath. “I need space from you, Blake.”
The silence through the phone is deafeningly loud. My throat is thick with guilt, not wanting to hurt Blake, but not wanting to comfort him either.
“What does that mean?” Blake asks, an eerie calmness in his voice.
“I-I don’t know. I just … need time.”
Time to mourn the loss of privacy this will bring. Time to figure out how this impacts me and any future career I may have. Time to deal witheverythingwithout also having to handle Blake’s own emotional fallout.
“Okay,” he says slowly, voice barely above a whisper. “If that’s what you need, Ella.”
“Thanks,” I say so quietly it’s a surprise he can even hear me.
“I’m so sorry, El. I promise I’m going to make things right,” Blake continues agitatedly. “I’m here whenever you’re ready to talk, okay?”
“Okay,” I mumble before ending the call.
Sagging into the couch, I make no attempt to wipe away the tears falling down my face. I try to create a tally of all the shit that’s gone wrong in the past few hours, but I don’t have enough fingers or toes to count that high.
THIRTY-FIVE
Blake
I CAN’T LEAVE my house without reporters shoving their cameras in my face and their questions down my throat. Even thoughThe Elliot Brown Showhas taken the episode off air after both my team and PlayMedia threatened to sue, it’s been a media circus. Some people are applauding me for calling out a predator, especially since a few other women have come out with similar claims following the interview.
Those close to me are calling me an absolute bloody idiot for doing so at Ella’s expense. They’re right. I am an absolute bloody idiot. There are no two ways about it.
I’ve been a dead man walking since Ella flew back to Chicago. I don’t blame her. I hate myself for what I did, so I can only imagine how she’s feeling. I promised her I’d be the kind of man she deserves, yet I’m the reason she’s reliving her own personal hell. I lost my cool and may have lost the love of my life in the process.
There is no me without her and the thought of living life without her is the worst kind of pain I’ve ever experienced. It’s been over a week since we last spoke, and there’s not enoughwhiskey in the world to burn the thought of her out of my mind.
I’m pouring myself another drink when I hear banging on the door. I have a pretty good guess who it is, and if I’m right, I’m not in the mood for it. I take my time finishing making my old-fashioned before slowly heading to the door. I find Theo, Lucas, and an absurd amount of beer on the other side.
“It’s cold as tits out there, mate,” Theo complains. He pushes straight past me into the warmth of my foyer. “You really took your sweet bloody time, didn’t you?”
Lucas rolls his eyes at Theo. “What he means to say is ‘Hey, Blake, how are you doing?’”
“You should’ve texted.” The deep timbre of my voice is diluted down to a tired, raspy pitch. “I’m not in the mood for company.”
“We did text.” Lucas walks past me, closing the door behind him. “And we brought beer and pizza. When’s the last time you ate?”
His guess is as good as mine. A loud crash from the kitchen indicates Theo’s making himself right at home. They’re not leaving anytime soon, whether I want them to or not. Lucas and I follow the noise and find Theo sitting on my kitchen counter while a glass pitcher lies shattered on the floor.
“I leave you alone for one minute, Walker.” I sigh, rubbing my brow. “And you break shit.”
I listen to Theo explain that he’s on the counter to avoid getting glass in his feet. They are his money maker after all.
