17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

BLAKE

" C an you walk me to school today, Uncle Blake?" Freya asked, wandering into the kitchen in her pyjamas as I sat at the table drinking my coffee.

I glanced at the time on the microwave. Usually, I struggled to do the school run with my work hours, but today was pack down day and the scaffolding crew wouldn't be at Inika's until ten. Probably eleven, knowing Jordy. He was always late.

"Sure, Frey." I took my coffee with me as I headed over to the bench to make her breakfast.

"Good." She climbed into the seat I'd just vacated. "Grandad got so tired yesterday that we had to stop lots on our walk, and then I was late."

I paused, milk bottle hovering over the cereal bowl. "He was getting tired?"

"Mmhm, from walking. Grandad says he's too old to be traipsing around town."

That definitely sounded like something Dad would say. My stomach churned with guilt. He'd have had to walk home after dropping her off too. How many stops had he made out of exhaustion on the way back? Was he ever going to tell us about it? Probably not. It would be just like him to suffer in silence.

I set Freya up with her breakfast before heading upstairs, knocking on Dad's door and quietly letting him know that he could sleep in and I'd get Freya off to school. I didn't even bother letting Leo know. If he wanted to know where his daughter was, he could try fucking parent her for a change.

Freya went off to school easily, and I jogged back home before climbing in the van and heading straight to Inika's house, stuck in traffic most of the way.

Graeme ignored me as I passed him in the corridor, heading upstairs.

Before Jordy and his crew arrived, I made sure the scaffolds were clear of my own stuff, before doing my initial clean of the floor, loading up the van with any big pieces of plaster and doing a round with the hoover.

I was done. The job was finished. In all honesty, it could have been done a couple of days ago, but I'd been dragging the process out.

Enough was enough, though. If we let this go on any longer, we were only going to end up hurting each other's feelings. Inika's approaching heat was a deadline we couldn't negotiate with.

Not only that, but this morning had proven that I needed to be spending more time at home. Maybe I could bring on an apprentice. I'd put it off, assuming that Leo would eventually be less useless, but clearly that had been overly optimistic of me.

I stood aside as the scaffolding crew removed their gear, packing up my tools as I went, ready to load them in the van.

Where was Inika? While she used so much Om-Guard that it was impossible to track her scent around the house anyway, I usually had some vague idea of where she was, if only based on how the rest of the staff were acting. But everyone was quiet today, and I wondered if Inika had even emerged from her nest this morning.

Fuck, I wanted to check on her so bad. I wanted to crawl into that jewel-coloured nest with her, and tell her that her dad was a prick—the words I'd wanted to say yesterday, but had chickened out of saying.

He was, though.

The problem was, I was too.

Who the fuck was I to complain about how other people treated Inika when I literally got off on degrading her? Yeah, she got off on it too, but I still felt like I was in no position to defend her honour.

Once the guys were done, I removed the protective floor covering and hoovered up every bit of dust I could reach. Undoubtedly, Graeme would be along afterwards to polish, tutting and complaining, but he didn't have anything to complain about.

It looked fucking phenomenal in here.

The rest of the house was still boring—with the exception of Inika's suite of private rooms—but the ceiling above this formerly abandoned staircase was a fucking masterpiece once more.

Inika appeared right as I was considering messaging her, dressed surprisingly casually in loose forest-green shorts and a matching top that hung off one shoulder. She'd pulled her hair up off her neck, though loose strands curled around her face, and I was pretty sure she didn't have any make-up on.

It took everything in me not to snatch her up into my arms and carry her away to whatever nest she'd let me into, just to hold her.

"Blake…" Inika breathed, staring up at the ceiling. "It looks incredible . I love it."

"I'm glad," I grunted, forever uncomfortable with anyone complimenting my work.

She looked up at me with a beaming smile, eyes shining with happiness, and my lungs were suddenly too small to hold the air I needed.

"We have to stop doing this now," I rasped, my throat strangely tight. "This… Us. We need to stop."

Her expression shuttered right in front of my eyes, all of that openness melting into perfect… politeness.

I felt my heart crack in my chest.

"You're probably right." She exhaled like the weight of the world was on her shoulders, and all I wanted to do was take it away. "I've honestly been thinking the same—I'm not just saying that to assuage my ego. I'm not confident that I had the courage to make the call, and it's… Well, it's time."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, my throat dry. "What do you mean you didn't have the courage to make the call? I never want you to feel afraid around me, Inika."

"I'm not afraid," she assured me with a brave smile, though her eyes were sad. "Never that. I've just grown more attached to you than is probably appropriate, considering the circumstances. That's my responsibility to manage, not yours," she added hastily when I opened my mouth. "And I'm sure it'll pass with time as these things do. I certainly hope you'll still feel that you can call on me as a friend and support system for Freya. I really would like to keep in touch with her."

I nodded mutely, not trusting myself to speak. If "I've grown attached" had felt like a spear to the gut, it was nothing compared to "it'll pass."

Those two words had unravelled my entire world.

With one last sad smile, Inika backed away, her gaze lingering on my face until the last possible moment. And then she rounded the corner and she was gone, leaving me alone in the hallway.

Had she gone back to her nest? Did it still smell like me? If it did, she was probably stripping off the linens right now.

That thought had no right to hurt as much as it did.

This had always been a dangerous game. It was always going to feel like paradise at the time, and an acute kind of agony when it ended.

The ventilation system kicked into overdrive as I gathered up the last of my things, cycling fresh air through the corridor and erasing the last of my scent.

With shaking hands, I headed down through the staff entrance and out to my van, leaving my access card on the kitchen counter on my way past.

It'll pass.

Maybe it would for Inika. She wanted love, she wanted a mate, she just hadn't found the right one yet. When she did—and how could she not? Inika was perfect—she'd remember me as a fond blip in her memories.

I'd remember her as my one great love.