Trevor left for San Francisco last night, after begrudgingly making me food and tucking me into bed. I couldn’t ignore the way he avoided touching me though. How could I? We went from being all over each other on Christmas Day to him barely looking me in the eye. Even as he tucked me into bed, the familiar warmth in his care was gone. He was doing everything the same ashe always had, but it didn’t feel right. Sweet, generous Trevor turned cold and distant in the blink of an eye.Just like Carter.
I try to shake away the thought and focus back on the Jorgensen portraits in front of me, but it slowly creeps back in. As much as I’d like to think it isn’t the case, the similarities are messing with my mind. Trevor was well on his way to becoming my person, and as soon as I let him claim me as his, he flipped the script. When a major crisis hit, he closed himself off. How can I rely on someone who does that?
“Okay, Boss Lady…what’s going on?” Emily sidles up to my desk. Cara and Monique are out for lunch between appointments.
“What do you mean?” I mumble distractedly.
“I mean, you haven’t left that chair all day. You’ve been scooting it around the room like you’re glued to it, and it’s starting to freak us all out.”
I guess now would be a good time to tell the girls at work about the baby and the complication. They’ll need to know what to do in case something happens. I should prepare them for working with a guest photographer when I need to take maternity leave anyway. “I’m?—”
“What the hell, Willa!” The boom of Trevor’s voice makes me flinch as he storms through the door, indignation burning in his eyes. I’ve never seen his face turned up in anger like this, and certainly never directed at me.
“What are you doing here? My appointment’s not for two days.”
“I could ask you the same damn thing.” He stands by the door, huffing like a dragon, just glaring at me. “What are youthinking?”
“What’s going on?” Emily looks between the two of us like a deer caught between rifles.
“The doctor told me to take it easy, and I have been. I’ve been sitting down all day.” My voice falters at the end, and I purse my lips.I sound fucking ridiculous.
“She meantat home, Willa! Are you shitting me right now? I drove all damn night to take care of you this morning. Imagine my goddamn panic when I walk into your house and you’re nowhere to be found.”
Our eyes locked in battle, I almost forget Emily’s in the room until she asks, “Willa, wha?—”
“I’m preg?—”
“She’s pregnant!”
We both shout at her. If the message alone isn’t surprising, the sheer volume may be the reason her eyes are bugging out of her head. I’m so keyed up, noise is the least of my worries.
Trevor takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut like he’s trying to force the anger from his body. He’s pissed; that’s clear as day. But even with the shouting match, I don’t feel unsafe. “Get in the truck, Willa.”
“My car’s outside, so no.”
“I’ll get your car later, just go get in the truck.”
I turn to my computer screen with a roll of my eyes. “No.”
A strangled gurgle emanates from his throat, his fists clenching at his sides. “Don’t make me carry you…”
“Becausethat’sgoing to help with the bleeding,” I chide. “I’m not a fucking hostage, Trevor. Your caveman threats don’t scare me.”
“You’re bleeding?” Emily gasps, her voice barely registering in my ears.
“You can’t just threaten to carry me whenever I don’t do as you say.”
“Try me,” he says with a tick in his jaw. “Get in the goddamn truck, Willa.”
Lips pursed, I lean back in my chair, arms crossed tightly for effect. A moment of vulnerability flickers in his eyes, so brief that I wonder if I imagined it, before he sets his jaw back into that hard clench. It’s just enough to make my tenacity waver. When Trevor takes a determined step toward me, I throw up my hands.
“Fine. Whatever. Give me five minutes to pack up. I’ll meet you in the truck.”
“Nope. I’ll wait by the door.”
“You think I’m going to escape out the bathroom window or something?”
“I wouldn’t put it past you. Five minutes, and I’m dragging you out of here whether you’re ready or not.” He shuffles off to the front desk, and my middle finger follows his retreating form, rage burning in my chest.