If the Sun Never Sets (If Love 2)

“It’s too late.”

They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Unless Farrah wanted a nice long stint in an insane asylum, she needed to stop believing Blake. How many times was she going to let him hurt her until she got the hint?

Blake’s eyes darkened. “Is it Paul?” He spat out the name like it was a rotten piece of fruit. “Are you in love with him?”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Disbelief and anger replaced the humor in Farrah’s laugh. “Get out of my house.”

Instead of leaving, Blake moved closer. Farrah stepped back, he stepped forward, until her back hit the wall and there was nowhere left to go. He was all she could see, and his presence was so powerful, so all-encompassing, she drowned in it.

“What is it about him?” Blake demanded. “How could you move on so quickly? From me? From us?”

Farrah’s blood hissed in her veins. “I’m serious, Blake. Get the fuck out.”

“I need to know!”

“I’m not in love with him, you idiot!” she yelled. “I’m not even dating him! God, how dense can you be?”

Blake looked thunderstruck. “You’re not?”

“No.” Farrah shoved him off her. “We met on a dating app. I’d only known him for two weeks. That night you ran into us? It was our third date. Do you think I’m so fickle that I could turn around and fall in love with someone else just like that?” She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

The paleness of Blake’s face could’ve given Edward Cullen a run for his money. “Does that—you fell in love with me again?”

Farrah wanted to bang her head against the wall. “I was always in love with you. Even when I thought I forgot you. Even when I thought I was over you.” Her voice trembled. “From the day I met you, you chipped away at my heart, piece by piece, until you took the entire thing. And you never gave it back, you bastard.”

Blake grasped her chin and tilted it until his eyes bored into hers. “And I’m not giving it back. Ever,” he said fiercely. “It’s mine, and mine is yours. A heart for a heart. It’s only fair.”

If only that were true.

A chill settled in Farrah’s chest, fortifying her defenses and keeping her standing until she did what she had to do.

“Here’s the difference between you and me,” she whispered. “I saw you taking my heart, and I let you. I gave it to you unconditionally. You gave me yours in a locked glass box—beautiful, close enough for me to believe I could touch it, but every time I came close, you pushed me away. Because you didn’t trust me, or you thought I couldn’t handle it, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. In the end, you kept the key, and you ran. Even though you said you loved me. Even though I was right here, all this time.”

Blake trembled against her, tiny, barely imperceptible shudders that belied the stony set of his jaw. He ripped his hand from her chin and grasped her palm, pressing it flat against his chest. “There is no glass box,” he said, the storm in his eyes intensifying into a hurricane. “This is my heart. Feel it. It’s there, and it’s beating. For you. Only for you.”

Silence.

“We can make this work.” Quiet desperation leaked from Blake’s voice and crackled in the air. “I’ve fucked up more times than I can count but tell me how I can make it up to you. You want the key? I’ll give you the key. I’ll give you ten keys. I’ll give you the whole goddamned house! Just tell me what you want and it's yours.”

“I don’t want anything.” Farrah slipped her hand out of his grasp, as calm as if they were sipping tea on a summer porch in the Hamptons. “You see, there’s only so many times you can push a person away before they never come back.”

“Farrah…”

“The key is useless because I’ve given up trying to unlock what’s inside.”

“Don’t do this.”

“You can keep my heart.” She blinked up at Blake, trying to feel something beyond the numbness spreading through her limbs. She couldn’t. “But I no longer want yours.”

Until today, Farrah didn’t think it was possible to see a person actually die inside. Now, she witnessed it in slow motion as the light bled out of Blake’s eyes, turning the crystal pools into flat, empty swaths of ice. His strong, muscular frame crumpled, and devastation lined his face. He was no longer Apollo but a fallen god, mortal and bleeding, and she couldn’t bear to watch any longer.

Farrah closed her eyes. Apparently, there was a limit to her numbness.

Blake’s laugh was short, rueful, and laced with pain. “For someone who claims never to have touched my heart, you have an uncanny ability to rip it out and tear it apart.”

His footsteps stopped at the door. She felt rather than saw him look at her. “It’s still yours, you know. It will never belong to anyone else. Not in this life, and not in the next thousand lives. You have my heart until the earth stops spinning and the stars turn to dust. You can love it or hate it or forget all about it. But it will always be yours.”