Broken Promises

76 | noah

I can tell by the way her features pinch that Blake doesn't find anything.

"You never called me back," she says, voice heavy. I can't put into words how broken she looks in this moment. It's odd, knowing I'm the one person who has the power to fix her, to put her back together again. Yet I make no move to do so.

"Why would I?" I question. "I didn't have anything to say."

Blake purses her lips and nods, looking as if I've slapped her across the face. I guess I have, in a way, except my words landed a blow to her heart instead of her cheek. I wonder which hurts worse.

"I'm so sorry about your mom," she murmurs. I can tell she genuinely means the words. She blinks back tears, and I wonder if her sudden urge to cry was inflicted by me or the death of my mother. "She was a lovely woman. I can only imagine how much you're hurting."

"I'm not," I reveal. "I don't feel much of anything right now, to be honest."

Blake glances up at me in shock. I guess what I've just said is slightly inappropriate, especially considering my mother died just days ago. Yet it's the truth, and I see no reason to start lying to Blake now.

"You're packing," Blake notes as she studies the boxes scattered in the driveway around us and in the bed of my truck, blinking furiously.

I can't hold back a sarcastic smirk. "Way to state the obvious, sweetheart."

"What for?" Blake's voice is strained.

"I'm leaving." I don't feel pain at the words. I don't feel anything. Empty. I feel empty.

"You're . . . leaving?" she repeats in disbelief. "What do you mean you're leaving?"

"I mean I'm taking all my stuff and skipping town, sweetheart. What do you think I mean?"

Blake's bottom lip trembles as her tear-filled gaze meets mine. However, a new light shines in her eyes. They're still full of sadness and hurt, yet anger is evident in her gaze, as well. She's angry with me. I'm not surprised.

"So you were just planning on leaving? And you weren't going to tell me?"

"What was I supposed to do, Blake?" I snap. "Send you a text? Something tells me you wouldn't be pleased either way."

"Damn right I wouldn't!" she cries, voice echoing in the air around us. I didn't know such a small girl could be capable of such a forceful yell. Blake's glare is fierce as she stares me down, chest heaving as she breathes erratically.

"See? I—"

"It's my turn to talk, Noah!" Blake cuts me off. She steps forward, a lone tear tracing a path down her cheek. My hand flinches with the urge to wipe the tear away, yet the gesture doesn't make it past the thought.

"I get that you're hurting, Noah," she says as another tear falls. "I know that your mother passed and that the car accident rattled you and that all of this is overwhelming. But why are you acting like this? Do you know how worried I was? Waiting for you—" Her voice breaks entirely, her tears turning to streams that run down her cheeks.

"Waiting for you to come see me, or call me, or anything!" she finishes, expression crumpling. "I don't get why you're doing this. Why are you pushing me away? You know I'm here for you. I've always been here for you. I always will. Just let me in, Noah. Please."

I can't look at her when she's crying like this, so I don't. My gaze focuses somewhere to the left of her as I inhale sharply, wishing this was over.

"I'm sorry, Blake," I mutter. "I can't do this."