When I stepped into Blaine’s room that first night, with a tea tray in hand, the party long over, he was on the phone, by his window.
It sounded like he was trying to see reason with someone, convince them about something.
I would later realize that had been Ophelia, the arrogant Miss World.
He was trying to convince her to get back with him, and end their break, but she was rude to him and hung up.
At the time, though, I only saw a man with deep sadness. He looked exhausted instead of angry.
“Thank you.” He said gently, and walked over to sit on a couch in the seating area of the bedroom.
I nodded and said nothing, my shy personality already making me want to run away.
But I stayed and made his tea with careful, steady hands, although he was watching me the whole time.
I straig
