Chapter 162
Blake’s POV
The coffee shop across from NYU hummed with morning activity. Students grabbed coffees before class while professors typed away on laptops.
I followed Laurel to a booth, watching her closely. For someone who wanted to “investigate at NYU, we hadn’t made it past the coffee shop.
“Blake darling,” Laurel said, sliding into her seat, “I remember telling you how much I love the caramel latte here.
She looked up, eyes nostalgic. “I wanted to bring you here three years ago, but never got the chance.”
I frowned at the menu.
“I’ve had the caramel latte here,” I said flatly.
Laurel’s smile faltered.
“Iced americano,” I told the server.
“Caramel latte for me,” Laurel added.
Once the server left, Laurel leaned forward.
“When did you try their caramel latte?” she asked.
She blinked at me. “Did you come here alone when I was gone because you missed me?”
I gave a half–smile and turned toward the NYU sign outside.”
I did come here before, but I wasn’t alone.
Back then, I’d just woken from a six–month coma. I refused to engage with the world, staying in a wheelchair even though I could stand. I was angry, bitter, lashing out at everyone – especially Audrey Sinclair, the woman who’d married me while I was unconscious.
But she was also the person who put up with me most. Despite my attitude, she’d wheel me to NYU, to this coffee shop, and tell me stories about her college days.
She talked about–changing from a country girl nobody respected into someone who earned her place through hard work. She described studying while juggling jobs, making friends who accepted her, finding her way in the city.
Her stories weren’t complicated, but she’d light up telling them, smiling as she described her friends and experiences.
At first, I’d cut her off with harsh comments, finding her optimism irritating. But gradually, I found myself drawn to the determination in her eyes.
Eventually, I willingly came here with her. I’d sit while she drank her caramel latte, listening to the same stories over a
over.
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Though I never said it, I drew strength from her energy. It helped me accept my changed self and face a world that had almost forgotten me.
I started rehab, relearned business, stood again, and took back control of Parker Group.
Audrey and her stories played a crucial role in that comeback.
Back then, I even thought spending my life with someone like Audrey might work.
Until I saw her true face and learned why she really stayed with me…
After that, our interactions became purely functional meeting basic marital obligations, nothing more.
I never came back to this café and grew to dislike caramel lattes.
“Blake darling?”
Laurel’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. I realized I’d been staring at the NYU sign.
“Want to visit your old campus?” I asked, turning back.
Laurel stiffened. “I’m kind of a minor celebrity now,” she stammered. “Going on campus might cause a scene.
“True,” I said.
The internet hasn’t been kind to her lately, and college students follow everything online.
Our drinks arrived. Laurel took a sip and pulled out her phone to type something. I pretended not to notice.
Five minutes later, the door swung open. Jennifer rushed in looking flustered, with a thin, pale guy trailing behind.
“Laurel!” Jennifer called. “We have a lead!”
She pointed to the young man. “This student says his roommate disappeared last night and hasn’t come back!
I leaned back, drinking my coffee while studying the supposed student. He looked frail, with pale skin and tired eyes.
Ethan Davies studies sports science. This guy doesn’t look like an athlete at all. Too thin, too pale, wrong build. Something’s off.
“Really?” Laurel stood up. “His roommate vanished last night?”
Jennifer nodded. “Yes! According to him, his roommate met a newly divorced woman who invited him for… a car date. Now they can’t reach him.”
She lowered her voice. “He saw the accident news online and got worried it might be his roommate.”
The pale guy spoke up, his voice soft and raspy. “Ethan Davies left around midnight. We worried about him being out so late. This morning we saw that a couple died in a car crash. We didn’t connect it to him at first, but when we couldn’t reach him all day, we started to worry.”
“Ethan Davies?” Laurel tapped her chin. “That name sounds familiar… Blake, doesn’t it ring a bell?*
“It does,” I replied. “He’s the college student who was friendly with Audrey Sinclair.”
“That’s him!” Laurel gasped, hand over her mouth. “If he was the man last night, then who was the woman? A recently divorced woman… It couldn’t be… Miss Sinclair?*
Jennifer’s eyes widened. “No way! Miss Sinclair just divorced Mr. Parker, but she loved him deeply. How could she **
“I’ve seen Ethan’s woman before,” the pale student cut in. “This Sinclair lady – got a photo? I could tell you if it’s her!
“We do!” Jennifer showed him her phone.
The young man nodded quickly. “That’s her! That’s definitely who left with Ethan last night. I’d know her anywhere!”
Laurel’s hand went to her mouth, tears forming. “Oh no… Miss Sinclair?”
She turned to me, dabbing her eyes. “Blake darling, I never thought my attempt to help identify victims would lead to Miss Sinclair…”
She sniffed. “Should we go to the morgue and notify her family? Even if what she did was inappropriate, her family deserves to know.”
I finished my coffee and set the cup down with a soft click. The café seemed to grow quiet.
“Based on just this student’s word,” I said calmly, “you’re convinced Audrey Sinclair died last night?”
Laurel faltered, glancing at Jennifer. “I’m just guessing… since he recognized her in the photo…”
I turned to the pale young man.
“You’re a student at New York University?” I asked directly
The young man flinched under my gaze, then nodded. “Yeah… I attend NYU.”
“Show me your student ID,” I said, fingers tapping the table.
Without hesitation, he pulled a card from his pocket and slid it across.
I picked it up, scanning it briefly. “Economics department.”
I placed the ID down with a cold smile. “So an economics student is roommates with Ethan Davies from Sports Science?”
His smile vanished. “I… well…”
After stumbling over his words, he turned to Jennifer. “Ms. Carson… what do I tell him?”
He spoke louder than he intended. Everyone at nearby tables turned to look.
Laurel’s face drained of color.
Jennifer shot him a death glare. “Why the hell are you asking me?”
“Mr. Parker just caught you pretending to be someone’s roommate. I should be asking why you lied to me!” She watched
Chapter 162
me from the corner of her eye as she spoke,
“That’s enough,” I said.
I stood up, straightening my sleeves. “Laurel, when your agent schedules your next acting workshop, bring Jennifer and your hired actor here.”
I looked between them. “You all need the lessons. This performance was amateur at best.”
I walked out without looking back.
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