Home.
I know I could go to my parents’ house, but for a moment, I consider a hotel. Then something pulls at me to go home and, for some reason, I do. Honestly, I’m too fucking wiped and know I need some rest.
As I lay in the guest bedroom that used to be my old room, I’m haunted by too many things that are keeping me from sleep. That’s why, when morning moves in, with sunshine peeking through the blinds, I still haven’t shut my eyes. I’m tired and worn the hell out.
It’s been one thing after another. Precious needing an escape, Cook bullshit, losing Big Jim, not looking forward to his funeral tomorrow, and now my mom. Not to mention, Pixie and all the knots she’s got me fucking tied up in.
Since I can’t sleep, I might as well get up and make myself some coffee to get me through the day.
I make it halfway down the stairs to the main floor when the doorbell rings. Who the hell could that be?
Making my way to the door and opening it, I’m not prepared for who is on the other side.
Amber.
Seeing her again after so many years is like taking a punch to the gut. Or even a kick to the nuts. It doesn’t hurt so much as it enrages me to see the woman who cost me everything. At the same time, I wonder how much I cost her, too.
She looks good, so maybe that means I didn’t fuck up her life too much.
Not giving her a chance to speak, I say, “What are you doing here, Amber?”
“I’m sorry to just show up like this, Trevor, but I really need to speak to you.”
“Got nothing to say to you. Listened to everything you had to say seventeen years ago. Think that was enough, don’t you?”
Amber shakes her head. “No, that’s why we need to talk. The past is wrong, and I’m here to make it right.”
Not understanding where she is going with this, I snap, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Can I come in please so we can talk?”
Blocking the entrance with my body, I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You can say whatever it is you want to say out here, and then go on your way.” There is no way I’m going to have her inside this house alone with me.
She sighs, looks down at her feet, then nods in understanding. Looking back up at me, she finally says, “I came here to tell you the truth. You didn’t rape me all those years ago, Trevor.”
Feeling surreal, as if this whole conversation might be a dream, I whisper the only words that come to mind, “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
Amber straightens her spine, as if trying to give herself courage. “I said, you didn’t rape me that night. I’m here to tell you that I’m sorry for not being honest with my parents.”
“You’re sorry?” I murmur back in shock.
I watch through a haze as she nods again. “Yes, I’m sorry. You see, I have a little girl—”
At that, my head snaps up. “Is she mine? Tell me right fuckin’ now, Amber; did you have my kid and not tell me?”
She shakes her head violently. “No, no!” Holding up her hand, she points at a wedding ring. “I’m married now, Trevor, and my husband and I have a little girl together. She’s eight years old.”
Something about her statement releases a tension in me that I didn’t realize I had until it was gone. My shoulders sag a bit as Amber keeps talking at a fast pace.
“What I was trying to say is that, as I’ve been raising my little girl, it’s made me think about when she’s a teenager. And I don’t ever want her to go through what I’ve been through.”
Her words make my back rigid. “But you just said I didn’t rape you, so what the fuck are you talking about, Amber?”
Holding her hands up in surrender, I can see they are shaking. “This is all coming out wrong. Just let me finish please.” I don’t say anything, so she reiterates, “Please.”
This time, it’s me who gives her a nod, and then she continues.
“What I meant was, I don’t want my little girl to ever be afraid of talking to me. I want her to have the comfort to tell me the truth, no matter what. My parents had me scared out of my mind, that when I found out I was pregnant with our baby, I lied to them about what happened. That was wrong of me, and I know I can never truly make it up to you, but I’m doing what I can—I’m telling you the truth. And most importantly, I’m here to say I’m sorry, Trevor. So sorry for the hell I must have put you through. I never had any right to lie like that.”