But you won’t, will you?”
“No,” I said simply. “The house sale is proceeding. The wedding vendors have been paid their cancellation fees. Tomorrow, I’m leaving for the Carolina coast.”
Blake absorbed that with a thoughtful nod.
“I thought as much.”
Then he added, quieter, “For what it’s worth, Mrs. Carter… I’m sorry. Not just for how today has unfolded, but for my role in allowing Amber’s misrepresentations to continue. I should have questioned things more thoroughly.”
The apology surprised me with its maturity.
“We all have our blind spots, Blake,” I said. “Especially when it comes to those we love.”
My mother appeared with a tea tray, setting it on the small table between us.
“Evening, Blake,” she greeted him with minimal warmth.
“Interesting day you’ve had, Mrs. Carter the elder,” he acknowledged with a slight smile.
“That’s certainly one way to describe it.”
“Hm.” Helen poured tea with practiced efficiency. “And what are your plans now, young man, besides imposing on my daughter’s final evening before her departure?”
“Mother,” I chided gently, though I appreciated her protective instinct.
Blake accepted the tea with a respectful nod.
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” he said. “Everything I thought I knew about my relationship, my future… it’s all in question now.”
“Good,” Helen pronounced firmly. “Questions lead to better answers than assumptions.”
Blake smiled faintly. “My father said something similar earlier today.”
We sipped our tea in surprisingly comfortable silence as darkness fully enveloped the yard.
Finally, Blake set his cup down with a decisive clink.
“I should go,” he said. “Amber is at the hotel, and there’s a lot to discuss.”
He stood, extending his hand first to Helen, then to me.
“Thank you for talking with me,” he said, “and for the clarity you’ve provided—however painfully it came about.”
After he left, Helen and I remained on the porch.
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