Chapter 72 I CAN BE HIM
\[CASTELLAN'S HOUSE\]
Ixora's face beamed with a smile as she walked in. Drexton didn't let her leave his side for once. They even had lunch together, though he didn't eat, just watched her.
Her actions at the office today were... so not hers. She had no idea why she felt the need to claim Drexton in front of Bonnie.
What she didn't expect was that he'd play along. He didn't look nor act shocked when she did it, and she was glad. Bonnie's mistake was threatening her.
She chuckled inwardly, remembering the look on her face and the fact that she had passed out.
She wanted to take another step when she felt a presence in the sitting room. Looking up, her smile broadened when she saw Blake.
She ran and hugged him.
"I'm sorry," she muttered.
Blake flickered her forehead. "Silly, why are you apologizing? I'm not dead."
Ixora punched him, a frown on her face. "Why would you say a thing like that? Die because of rain."
Blake smiled. "You're right."
Ixora raised her lid to his face. His lips were somehow pale, and his hair was slightly messy. He looks like he came for her after being discharged.
"How are Audrey and Skye? They stayed all night."
She had gone to see him in the morning, but they were still sleeping. She would have gone this evening if he hadn't been discharged.
He gave a slight nod, slowly dilating his pupil.
She could see it in his eyes. The same look he had when he proposed to her. Was he about to do it again? She wiped her sweaty palm on the back of her skirt.
His eyes found hers, peering into them. "I asked you a question before I passed out." He paused, sulking in a deep breath. "I'm here for the answer."
Ixora gulped, breaking the stare. "I..." she trailed.
It breaks her heart to see him this way. What was she going to tell him? That she loves Drexton despite his torments. That she wishes for every ounce of herself to belong to him. His madness, control and all, she loves them all.
He'd see her as someone mentally unstable. He has done a lot and even suffered because of her. Whenever Drexton hurts her, he's always there for her. He cares about her deeply and genuinely. But she only sees him as her best friend, and she wishes he would continue seeing her that way.
"Do you love me?" he murmured, his voice almost broken.
It's as if he could already see the answer before him. Rejection.
Ixora turned away. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.
Blake staggered without being pushed, staring at her wordlessly.
"Blake." Ixora rushed to hold him.
Their eyes met.
Tears gathered in his eyes, burning red. He could feel his heart ripping apart, breaking into a million pieces. He had suspected it a long time ago. Audrey told him, countless times, and before coming here, he had prepared himself for the worst. What he didn't know was that it'd hurt like this. Hearing her say the word 'sorry', what other proof does he need to know that he's lost her for good?
He grabbed her arms. "Why?" He pulled her closer. "Why?!" He yelled, tears pouring out of his eyes.
Ixora throat bubbled for words, but nothing meaningful came. He was hurt, but she was also hurting. Why did she have to be in this situation?
"Sorry," she repeated, feeling her tears rolling down her cheeks.
As if sorry could solve anything.
"I've loved you since the very first day we met. I held onto your hairpin—onto hope, hoping and praying we'd be together. Why did you have to choose him and not me?" He released her arms, crouching to the ground.
His muffled cries filled the room.
"I didn't plan for it this way, nor did I plan to fall for Drexton. I might have met you before Drexton, but I fell for him the very first day Hazel showed him to me." She rubbed the back of her palm on her cheek, sniffling. "We are good friends, and I cherished every moment together. If I had even the slightest idea that you love me, then—"
Blake cut her off by roughly grabbing her arms. His eyes, red.
Ixora was worried about him.
She has never seen him react this way before.
"Why him, Ixora? He's done nothing but cause you pain. Did you forget? He burned my keytar, he fucking framed you up, he made you play mad psychological games with him, hates you to his core, swore to ruin you, and now, he's saving you, acting all nice. You think this is love? It's obsession! He's fucking obsessed with you!"
"Well, maybe I'm in love with the obsession as well! His ruins, all of them!" She yelled back, jerking his hands away. "I admit to everything he did, but people do change. He hates me and I don't think the hate has changed, not just yet. I don't know why, but I feel a part of me owes him. A part of me deserves his hatred!"
Blake chuckled, sweeping his hair backward. If someone had told him that a madman like Drexton would be his biggest rival in love, he'd have said no. And, Ixora, too, seemed to be out of her mind.
And again, he grabbed her hand, pulling her hard to his chest. "Tell me what he has that I don't? What do you see in him?" He shook his head, a bitter smile appearing on his lips.
"Blake." Ixora struggled, trying to release herself from his grip.
He tightened it. "Oh, I get it, his psychopathic ways. I can be like him. I can frame you up. I can play even more mind games with you. I can exert full control over you. Like this, right?" On saying that, he slammed his lips on hers.
Ixora pushed him away. "Blake!" She yelled.
"No," he shook his head. "Like this," he crashed his lips on hers, biting and sucking her lips senselessly.
Ixora struggled, banging her fist on his chest.
She successfully pulled her body away and landed a slap across his cheek, making it turn the other side.
"Have you gone mad?! I fell for Drexton without knowing he was dominating! I didn't fall because of all these things you mentioned! What the hell is wrong with you?!" She asked, panting heavily.
Blake's eyes fell on her red lips as a result of the force he used; guilt began creeping in. It seemed as if the slap had brought back his senses. The eyes once mad with obsession were now replaced by guilt... guilty of trying to force his best friend into something she doesn't want. Guilty of what he has just done.
He took two steps back, words refusing to slip out of his mouth. "I—I..." he opened the door and rushed out.
Ixora slowly dropped to the couch, resting her head on her palm. One thing she hated was hurting him. He was deeply hurt, and she saw it all. Blake was not someone who resorted to violence so easily, but he did today.
No matter how she tried not to think about it, she felt guilty. She had no slightest idea that he was in love with her. Even if she did, what could she have done?
Nelly had once told her the same thing, and she chose to ignore it. Blake's soft and—she exhaled. He doesn't deserve it.
She stood, picking at her nails. He left the house in guilt.
She reached for her phone and dialed his number.
"Not reachable," she muttered, trying again.
Same response.
She's worried about him. What if... she shook her head, waving off all negative thoughts away.
She dialed Audrey's number.
"Yes, Ixora, did my brother come to see you?" Audrey asked, and from the background, she sounded tense.
"He did come and leave. Now, his number is not reachable."
\[A BAR\]
Banging music hit Blake's head, sending a throbbing headache as he emptied the bottle of vodka. This would be the second bottle he's emptying, and uncorking the third. If guilt were a person, that'd be him.
Why did he act like a jerk and a bastard? Why did he have to lose his cool and kiss her? He's heartbroken, but should have remained within his boundaries.
He couldn't even look her in the eyes, nor could he apologize. He found the bar because of the noise. Maybe all his sorrows would flow away with the noise. Right now, his eyes were focused on the strippers performing on the stage. Anything to take his mind away from Ixora.
She was his first love and the only one he let into his life, even before Skye. He gulped another large amount of vodka, feeling the effect taking over his senses.
His tears mixed with the vodka. He wouldn't be surprised if his tears were what made the vodka sour in his mouth.
No one told him heartbreak would be this painful. It was even more painful than when his mother left.
He chuckled bitterly when he remembered his mother.
"First my mother, and now..." he slurred, pointing at his chest as if he was talking to someone.
The club cheered for the strippers on stage, but none of that mattered to him.
"Blake," a soft voice called, sitting on the chair beside him.
Blake smiled, recognizing the voice as Ixora—maybe not.
He turned, the smile still intact.
His blurred vision made him see two faces—one Ixora and the other...
"Ix... Xora..." He blinked repeatedly, trying to clear his sight.
The person held his hand, tender.
Still blinking off the drunkenness. "I... M... Mum."