“Let’s get you home,” he says, reaching for my coat and purse, and pulling me up against his side. He’s so warm and familiar, and part of me relaxes for a moment. The cab ride is thankfully peaceful, Trevor stroking my hair while I lay my head on his shoulder.
He gives me privacy in the bathroom while I change for bed, and he doesn’t even balk at my quick goodnight as I turn out the lights. For the first time in hours, I’m breathing. Barely, but breathing. I’m clutching the blankets to my chest, facing the window away from him, and blurring the stripes of light that are bleeding into the room through his blinds. Trevor’s breathing has become quiet, and I start to relax even more, thinking that he’s asleep now, and I can worry openly on my own until the sun comes up.
“My dad helped me pick the ring,” he says, his voice a knife in my back. I shut my eyes tightly at his words, and my opposite hand reaches up instinctively and twists the ring from my finger, squeezing it—almost like I’m attempting to destroy it. I hate this ring. A small tear forms and slides down my cheek, and when I feel Trevor’s hand slide along my shoulder and back, I jerk.
“I’m sorry, were you asleep?” he asks, his voice close. I squeeze my eyes tight again.
“No, I’m awake,” I say. I’m short, and I know my tone is going to make him ask questions.
“Is something wrong? You sound…you seem angry,” Trevor says, almost a whisper. I’m sweating, and the lone tear on my face has now been joined by a few others. I sniffle a little and wipe my eyes dry, sucking in a deep breath as I push for courage.
“It’s your dad,” I begin shaking the second I start. I know this is one of those conversations that you can never erase. There are so many things racing through my head, but there was something about hearing that Jim was involved in Trevor’s proposal that set my course in this direction. I owe it to Cody.
Trevor is sitting up now, the light flipped on by his bed. I roll over to look at him, but slip the ring back in place first. This is going to be hard, but I know it might just ease some of the tightness in my chest.
“What about my dad?” Trevor says, his voice slow and steady. He doesn’t sound angry, but he’s far from happy. I sit up to face him, meeting him at eye level.
“Trevor…what all do you know about your dad’s relationship with Cody?” I say, gripping at the blankets next to me, squeezing them for strength.
Trevor’s reaction isn’t a surprise. I see his body get rigid the second I ask my question, and I know his defenses are up. “What did that lying piece of shit tell you about my father?” he asks, his nostrils flaring. I reach over to touch his hand, but he pulls it away, looking down at my hand like it’s the enemy. Maybe it is.
“Trevor, I know you don’t want to hear this. I know it’s going to be hard for you to hear, and hard for you to believe, but I’m asking you to…for me,” I say. His eyes slide up to meet mine, and they’re wild looking. His face has me rattled, and I’m fighting against my instinct to scrap this all and just tell him I’m being silly. But I can’t. And I know I can’t because of Cody. “Trevor, your dad’s having an affair.”
“Bullshit!” he’s loud now. He stands and walks to the other side of the room, and his body is still while he faces the wall. I can’t read him, and I’m not sure if he’s going to storm from the apartment or punch a hole in the closet door, but I know he’s angry.
I push on. “It’s not, Trevor. I promise you. It’s not,” I say, sliding closer to him, but staying on the bed, the blankets around me somehow making me feel safe.
He turns to face me, his eyes red, and his mouth in a hard line. “Yes, it is,” he sounds so cold when he says it. Part of me is glad he’s angry; it’s going to make it easier to tell him the rest.
“I know you don’t want to believe me, but I promise you. And there’s more…” I start, but wait to see if he’s going to let me finish. He doesn’t blink, but he doesn’t move either. “He owns the loan on Cody’s garage, the one his dad left him. And he refuses to let up. Trevor, he wants to sell it out from under him.”
Trevor shrugs and rolls his eyes, clearly unaffected by Cody’s bad fortune, which spurs me on even more. I stand now and grab his wrist, forcing him to look me in the eye.
“Listen to me, Trevor. It was his dad’s—his dad! That garage? That’s all he has left…in the whole goddamned world. And Jim wants to knock it down, rip it away from him, destroy it,” I’m begging him to understand me, hear the words I’m not saying. Trevor knows enough about Mac, even without the details about my nightmares and fears, to know what this means to me. Surely he has to understand why something from your dad could be so important.