A funeral. A wake. In our house. And I’m alone. My best friend—my dad—six feet under, buried in dirt. And the fake ass**les bringing me flowers, frozen meals, false promises that one day it would hurt less—I just want to throw them all out and let the door hit them on the way. Just like Mac would have wanted.
But I don’t. I put on my mask, nod, say my line, and wait until the sun finally sets, and the moon takes over watch.
Three Years Later…
Chapter 1: Trevor Appleton’s Girl
“I have to go to tutoring. If I don’t go, I’m going to fail. And I can’t fail,” I say, fighting to hold in my laughter, while Trevor pokes my side as we lay in bed.
“Come on, baby, I’m going to be gone all week. Just stay a little longer,” he teases, pulling me back on top of him and nibbling at my ear. I want to stay. I always want to stay. His warm chest, deep gravely voice, and dark stubble on his chin that he scrapes along my jaw almost have me back. But I really am failing calculus. I need to pass to continue with my program studies. I fought too long and too hard to get into Western’s architectural program, and I spent most of Mac’s inheritance on my first three years. Thankfully, reason prevails, despite Trevor’s best efforts, and I make my way to my feet.
“You are so tempting, you know that?” I say, smacking him playfully on the arm. “But I have to go.”
Trevor puts on his best pout, which earns him a small kiss, but nothing more. I race into the bathroom at my apartment to shower and change.
“Hey, I have that dinner next Sunday to meet with the chief of staff in Judge Sumner’s office. You’re still good with that, right?” Trevor asks through the door while I’m showering. Damn, I’d forgotten about dinner Sunday. I just promised Caroline yesterday that I’d come home next weekend for Mac’s ceremony. It’s been three years, and every anniversary they have a candlelight memorial at the front steps of Louisville PD headquarters. I’ve missed them all. I’ve always been busy, made myself busy.
“Uh…” I’m hedging. I don’t want to let down Trevor, and truthfully, I don’t want to go relive my father’s death. But Caroline made me promise this year. My dad’s sister, my aunt, hasn’t been able to move on from it. She lives in it, literally. Mac left her his home—she never had one of her own. He always looked after her, giving her money and excuses for her emotional problems. He loved her—I know that’s why he couldn’t cut her loose. But she’s never fully been able to grow up because of it. I’d gotten a taste of it all for the three months I had to live with her before I left home to come to Western. I wasn’t going back—ever. Being there meant I ran the risk of becoming like her. And I knew being there wasn’t going to bring him back. Nothing would. So why bother.
“You’re not backing out on me, are you?” Trevor asks, pulling the shower curtain open and surprising me. He has a tone in his voice—I can tell he’s disappointed. Trevor has a way of getting his way; he doesn’t come across needy, but he has this face that just makes me want to please him. It’s satisfying to see him happy.
“No, I’ll be there. I just have to call Caroline. I forgot, I’m sorry. I told her I’d help her with something, but it can wait,” I lie. Trevor knows about my dad, and he’s met Caroline, so he knows how difficult she can be. But he doesn’t know all of the details—I always leave those out. They make me feel weak and pathetic, and I don’t want to feel his pity. Trevor is the one person who makes me feel strong, like I’m some power player in his world of lawyers and politicians—Cat Woman to his Bruce Wayne. And I like feeling that way.
He slips his head in the shower and kisses me hard, grabbing both sides of my face and making my call to Caroline easier. I smile and flit my eyes at him as he backs away. “Good, you’re my lucky charm, you know?” he winks. “I gotta go. But I’ll call you later, when I get in from my flight, okay?”
“Okay,” I smile and flick a little water at him as he leaves. He chuckles and shakes his head, walking out and shutting the door.
Trevor is classically handsome—dark hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders—he’s the alter ego of some brooding movie star and a Hilfiger ad rolled into one. He was a swimmer at Western his first four years, and he’s still built like one. In December, he’ll be graduating with his law degree, and if Sunday’s dinner goes well, he may be the youngest student in the college’s history to clerk for a circuit court judge.