I watched him sleep, studying his features—the elegant arch of his nose, his pouty lips, the nearly invisible scar on his cheek, even the light freckles on his nose that you couldn’t see unless you were up close to him like this. They were all such simple things, but they were a part of him. What I loved the most about Trenton though, wasn’t what he looked like, it was his heart—he was the kindest, most giving person I knew. He cared so deeply, it was a rarity to see that in a man—I would know with all the men my mother had brought around as I grew up. Despite the distance in our social classes, Trenton understood me. At a time when I’d been the scared new girl, he’d taken me under his wing and made me feel comfortable. He’d been my best friend. I had trusted him more than I ever had anybody. He’d tried to claim my love before I was ready to give it, and it sent me running. Because of it, I had made some horrible decisions I could never take back. Regret is funny and it does terrible things to you. It robs you of happiness.
As if he felt me watching him, his eyes cracked open and he smiled sleepily. His smile quickly turned to a frown though as memories of last night flooded him.
“I’m ready to go home,” I whispered sadly. I had to force myself to say the words. I didn’t really want to go back to that place, back to my shitty mom and my sleazy step-dad. I wanted to stay right here with Trent. However, I knew if I let myself linger much longer, the pain I’d feel later would be even worse. The sooner I got away, the sooner I could grieve this loss and move on. Well, there never really would be any moving on for me. Every day I’d be reminded of what I had done, and what I had lost because of it.
Trent swallowed thickly and nodded. He clearly didn’t want to let me go, but he knew he had no choice.
He extracted his body from mine and stood, pulling on his boxer briefs and then rummaging around his suitcase for a pair of jeans. “I’ll take you home.” His voice was thick, whether from still being sleepy or emotions he was fighting, I didn’t know. I held the sheet to my chest and sat up, looking around his room for my own suitcase.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw what I was searching for. He grabbed my suitcase, which had been hidden from my sight by the mountain of blankets on the bed, and deposited it in front of me.
I dressed as quickly as possible and pulled my hair back in a messy ponytail. My eyes were bothering me from having fallen asleep in my contacts, so I went to the bathroom and removed them, perching my glasses on the end of my nose.
My hand hurt like a bitch this morning, but its constant throb helped diffuse the other pain inside me.
I eyed my tired reflection for a moment. My eyes were sunken in with dark circles beneath them and my mouth was turned down in a frown that I couldn’t force into a smile no matter how hard I tried. Yesterday had been a trying day for me. I still couldn’t believe I’d had that meltdown in the car, and then again in the bathroom. It wasn’t like me, but everything was catching up with me and I didn’t know how to process my feelings.
I finished in the bathroom and found Trent waiting by his bedroom door with both our suitcases. “Let’s go,” he muttered without looking at me.
It killed me that he couldn’t bring himself to look at me. This had to be done though. We had to end. He couldn’t find out what I had done and I wanted to tell him so bad. Some secrets have to be kept quiet and I was bound to mine.
He carried the suitcases down the steps and out to the garage. All the while not saying a word to me. I wanted him to look at me, to say something…anything. Silence, ultimately, was better though.
He drove me home, his jaw tight with anger, but sadness too.
I knew he’d hate me for this—for breaking his heart a second time.
But better he hate me for that than the truth.
He parked in the driveway, not the street, and hopped out to get my suitcase.
I knew better than to argue as he wheeled my suitcase up to the front door. I walked slightly in front of him and jumped in surprise when the door opened. I expected it to be my mom or step-dad, since they should’ve been the only ones home, but instead it was Tristan.
“Row!” He cried my name with joy as he came barreling into my arms.
My heart stuttered in my chest.
They weren’t supposed to be home yet! I was supposed to pick them up tomorrow! Tristan shouldn’t have been here!
“Hi,” Tristan released his stranglehold on me and turned to greet Trenton.
Trent’s mouth fell open in shock as his eyes landed on the little boy. His eyes narrowed in puzzlement, then flickered to me, and back to Tristan again. Recognition lit his eyes and my throat closed up.
He knew.
There was no denying the resemblance.
“Hello,” Trenton finally responded, his voice slightly squeaky as he stared down at Tristan.
I knew what he saw. I saw it every single day. Tristan had the same light colored hair I’d had as a child, but everything else about him had Trenton Wentworth written all over it—especially his vivid blue eyes.
“You need to go inside now.” I gave Tristan a slight shove. He didn’t need to be here to witness this.
“Why?” He peered up at me with inquisitiveness.
“Just do it,” I said, my voice harsher than how I normally spoke to him.
He frowned, but finally went back inside, waving at Trent before closing the door.