Chapter 10 When Blake Left
"What do you think?" Ethan's arm landed directly on my leg, his elbow firmly anchoring itself on my knee.
I stared at him, heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape. My mouth opened, but no words came out.
"Uncle Ethan? Olivia?" Blake's voice rang out from the hallway.
Thank God. I shot up from the couch so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet. I raced toward the sound of Blake's voice like a drowning person reaching for a lifeline.
Blake stood in the doorway, relief washing over his face when he spotted me. Before I knew what I was doing, I grabbed his hand, clutching it tightly. My fingers trembled against his palm.
"Olivia." His voice softened as he noticed my distress.
Instead of pulling away as I normally would, I held on tighter, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Blake's expression shifted to concern as he gently brushed a strand of hair from my face.
"Blake, can you take me back to campus..." I began, my voice catching with a hint of tears.
"Mr. Bennett," Walter appeared at the doorway, his timing impeccable as always. "Mr. Ethan would like to see you in his study."
Blake squeezed my hand reassuringly before letting go. "Go wait by the pool. I'll find you there in a bit," he whispered, lightly touching my shoulder.
The late afternoon sun painted golden streaks across the swimming pool's surface. I sat alone on a bench, my hands anxiously twisting in my lap. Every minute felt like an hour as I waited for Blake to return.
---
After what seemed like forever, I finally spotted Blake walking toward me across the manicured lawn. I stood up immediately, meeting him halfway.
"Blake, what did your uncle want?" I asked, searching his face for clues.
He smiled easily, taking my hand. "Nothing major. Just some issues with the bar I opened."
I didn't press about the bar problems; that was his business. All I cared about was getting away from here—away from Ethan.
"Blake, please take me back to campus," I pleaded. "I really don't want to stay here. I feel so uncomfortable around your family, so out of place."
He guided me back to the bench and sat down beside me. "If you don't want to stay here, how about I take you to Switzerland instead?" His eyes lit up with excitement.
"What? Switzerland?" I stared at him in disbelief.
"Summer break is two months long, and it's so hot here. The Swiss Alps would be perfect to escape the heat."
Something inside me snapped. "No!" I nearly shouted. "I don't want to go anywhere!"
The emotions I'd been suppressing all day finally broke through. My eyes filled with tears, and my voice cracked as I spoke.
"Blake," I choked out. "Please stop pushing me like this."
My outburst clearly shocked him. He quickly pulled me into his arms, patting my back gently. "Okay, okay. We won't go. Please don't cry."
I sniffled, trying to regain my composure. As I pushed against his shoulder to break the embrace, I glanced up and froze. Through the second-floor window, I could see Ethan Bennett sitting there, watching us with cold, piercing eyes.
My heart nearly stopped. His expression was so intimidating that I instinctively ducked my head, burying my face against Blake's shoulder.
Feeling me press closer, Blake mistook my fear for affection. He pulled back slightly, his hands on my shoulders, eyes bright with hope. "Olivia, does this mean you've started to—"
His phone rang, cutting off whatever he was about to say. I stole another glance at the window, but Ethan was gone. Relief washed over me as Blake answered his call.
"Hey, Uncle Ethan, what's up?"
The mere mention of his name made me flinch involuntarily. My body had developed a stress response to Ethan—even hearing someone call his name was enough to make me tremble.
"Sure, we'll be right there," Blake said before hanging up.
I leaned against a nearby column, my eyes still watery, creating the illusion of vulnerability that wasn't entirely feigned. When Blake turned back to me, I could see his expression soften at the sight.
"Babe, what's wrong?" His voice was tender as he approached.
I looked up at him with glistening eyes. "Blake, I want to go home."
He crouched before me, his face level with mine. "I'll book you a flight right away, but you have to promise not to break up with me. When you come back after the break, you'll be my real girlfriend. Deal?"
I nodded, tears still clinging to my lashes. "Deal."
Blake gently wiped my eyes with his thumb. "Being with me... is it really that unbearable?"
"It's not you," I said quickly. "It's me. I just... I don't feel secure here."
He smiled, giving me a quick hug. "Silly girl. I chased you for a year, and I haven't dated anyone else that whole time. I've been waiting for you."
I didn't want to continue this conversation. "Didn't your uncle call? You should go."
Blake leaned in closer, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "What do you think of my uncle?"
My heart skipped a beat, panic rising in my chest. "What do you mean? He's your uncle, not mine. How would I know what kind of person he is?" The words tumbled out too quickly.
Blake pulled me to my feet. "Come on, Uncle Ethan wants us to join him for dinner."
---
"Uncle Ethan." Blake approached the wheelchair with a respectful tone.
Ethan turned to face us, his eyes sliding past me as if I didn't exist. Without a word, he wheeled himself toward the dining room.
I took my seat—same as at breakfast—with Blake to my left and Ethan directly across from me. The tension was palpable as Ethan maintained his icy demeanor, somehow seeming colder than he had been this morning.
After dinner, instead of retreating to his study or bedroom, Ethan moved his wheelchair to the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out silently at the darkening sky.
I sat quietly on the sofa with Blake beside me. Neither of us dared to leave while Ethan remained in the room, but he wasn't speaking, creating an awkward standoff.
When Ethan's back was turned, I couldn't resist rolling my eyes at his dramatic posturing. Blake caught me and stifled a laugh, which he quickly disguised as a cough.
"Uncle, are you bored?" Blake finally ventured. "Would you like to play chess?"
"Your chess skills are terrible," Ethan replied without turning around.
Blake shifted uncomfortably beside me, rubbing his nose. "Well, maybe Olivia and I could play Texas Hold'em with you?"
I shot Blake a horrified look, but to my surprise, Ethan turned his wheelchair to face us.
"Let's play." His voice was cool and measured.