Blaine.
Blaine with the long flowing blond hair, those twinkling eyes. That face only plastic surgery could produce, even though he’d never admit it.
He looks up a me from the pair of skis he’s showing my dad.
“Hey there, beautiful.”
I freeze, my jaw dropping and my blood boiling in my veins.
“What are you doing here.”
My dad clears his throat, shooting me a look.
“Ivy, Blaine was just-”
“I was just telling your dad about these new alpines I’ve been testing out.” He grins at me, that unnaturally white flashing smile dazzling. Dazzlingly, of course, from the custom crowns he’s had put in.
How did I ever even LIKE this man?
“Yeah, I got him a pair, since I know how much fun we had skiing last winter up at Sugarloaf.”
“Get out.” I spit the words out, feeling the heat flood into my face.
My dad steps forward, shaking his head. “Now, hang on, Ivy, Blaine just explained the whole thing to us.”
“Dad he left me for another woman!”
“Sir? May I?” Blaine beams at my dad, utterly charming him before stepping forward towards me. I take a step back.
“Ivy, I was confused when I called you. I just-” He shakes his head. “You work so darn hard all the time, and I was worried that I was just going to be holding you back.”
They’re not actually buying this shit, are they?
But they are. Even Stella can’t help but smile at the stupidly charming man standing center stage in this ridiculous living room drama production of “Blaine lies through his fucking teeth.”
“You’re joking, right? You posted pictures with her, you ass-”
“Ivy,” my dad’s booming voice cuts through. “Let him explain, honey.”
“Ivy,” Blaine reaches out for my hand, but I yank them back. “It was a shoot, Ivy. It was all a staged shoot to push that new casual city-wear line they’ve been pushing on me.”
My jaw drops as I look around to see my family smiling and nodding, just eating this shit up.
“She’s a model, Ivy,” Blaine laughs, like it’s just hilarious that I’ve misconstrued the situation somehow.
“The management company hired her for the day, that’s all.”
I haven’t misconstrued anything, I know that. Because I can remember that phone call.
“Is there another girl.”
“I don’t know how you want me to answer that.”
And a hundred other times and examples come flowing though my head. The dinners he was an hour late for with bizarre “work” excuses and a wave of his hand. The anniversaries he missed entirely. The unwillingness to commit to anything.
“No.”
I shake my head, taking another step back from him as the color leaves my face. “No.”
“Ivy-”
“No, we’re done here.”
“Honey,” my mom rubs my back. “Maybe you and Blaine should talk just the two of you?”
It suddenly feels like the walls and the ceiling are closing in - the room growing smaller and the air slowly getting thinner.
I have to get out of here.
I whirl and run from the room, and it’s not until I get to the front door that I feel a hand on my arm.
Stella.
“Hey,” she gives me a meaningful look. “You okay?”
“No,” I say quietly. “He’s completely full of shit.”
She chews on her lip, nodding. “Okay, get out of here, I’ll cover.”
“Thank you.”
“What else are sisters for besides helping each other escape horrible and awkward family encounters, right?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Silas
“Hi.”
I grin at the sound of her voice as I down the pier, even before I look up to see her sitting there.
“Hi yourself.”
She’s sitting on the edge of the roof of my boat, perched by the ladder with her feet hooked onto the top rung.
“You lost, Hammond?”
She shakes her head, her teeth raking over her bottom lip in a way that makes me want to grab her and claim those lips right here and now.
“Blaine’s here. In Shelter Harbor.”
I frown, my jaw clenching at the sound of that fucking douchebag’s name.
“Oh?”
I’m old enough to understand that what happened with us the other night doesn’t mean anything more than whatever it was that night. And I’m not stupid enough to think one night with her changes any of the other shit going on in her life - with her family, with work.
With Blaine, even if they were officially split before I even touched her the other day.
We’ll look past the part where she’s legally my fucking wife.
But I’m also realizing how tenuous my newfound existence in her life is. Sure, she and I have a lifetime of history, but that history was a lifetime ago. We’ve both been out in the world, and as much as I want to bury that smug little shit Blaine at the bottom of the Harbor, I’m aware that he and her have their own history.