Chapter 55. We Need to Talk

“God, I screwed up,” Blake admitted to the reflection in the window, the faint city lights flickering across the glass like distant stars. The image staring back at him was unfamiliar—a man hollowed by regret, weighed down by choices and missed chances. His jaw was tight, eyes shadowed with sleepless nights, and yet it was still him, still Blake Ward, the man who had once made her laugh until her cheeks ached.

“Talking to yourself now, Ward?” he muttered, shaking his head at the absurdity. A small, bitter laugh escaped him. Self-deprecation couldn’t mask the ache, the yearning for a time when things had been simpler, when he had been the one who mattered most to Camila, the one who could make her smile effortlessly.

“Enough,” he said, setting the empty glass down on the counter with more force than necessary. The amber liquid had done nothing to soothe the knot of anguish in his chest. “This