“Oh, Tre…” she says with misty eyes.
I glance away to get through the rest. “That’s why Maya started putting me in the closet when he got out of control. If I was out of view, I wasn’t a problem. The night we went into foster care, he stepped on one of my toys and lost it on me. Threw a table lamp against the wall above my head and a shard caught me here.” I tap the scar in my right eyebrow. “When I started dripping blood on the carpet, he came after me, yelling about it being my fault he was gonna lose the rental deposit. His eyes werealmost black, like the rage blew out his pupils. I remember that part. It sobered Mom up enough that she locked meandMaya in the closet.”
“What could a literal toddler have done to him, though?”
I take a deep breath and shrug. “Even back then, he and I looked alike, and he hated it. Our parents had Maya in high school. Both of their families kicked them out. They moved to Heritage for the cheap housing. Maya said it was okay for a little while. She remembers fun and laughter until bio mom got pregnant again. I was the surprise neither of them wanted, and I guess me looking like him was a constant reminder of all his mistakes. He started drinking, lost his job, and couldn’t hang on to anything for longer than a couple months after that. She started drinking after I was born, mostly to find common ground with him again. The rest is history.”
Willa reaches up and swipes her thumb over the scar in my eyebrow with a pained look on her face. “I hate that you had to go through any of that. You were so little.”
“I’ve mostly worked through my trauma from back then, but those key phrases have always stuck around, no matter what I do. With everything that happened after Christmas, I let it get the best of me. But this,us, no matter how new it is or how slow we decide to go, it’s important to me to get this right with you. I never want you to feel like you’re anything less than perfect, exactly as you are. I don’t want to be like him.”
“You’re not.” She smiles softly.
“But Iwas.I have the potential to be…”
“No. You had to face a traumatic moment and shut down. We both did… But you—the man that you are—Tre, you’re nothing like him.” Sliding her fingers around the back of my neck, she pulls me toward her. Her kiss is soft and sure, and the one I return embodies every apology that’s been in my mind since that night. She smiles against my lips. “I mean, you put up with me, for fuck’s sake. That has to count for something.”
“Willa,” I whisper, shaking my head. These self-deprecatingcomments she makes about herself being too much kill me. She bites her lip and looks down, but I need her to truly hear me when I say this. Tilting her chin up, I dust another kiss on her lips. “How anyone could ever want to change a thing about you is beyond me. You’re the prototype—they broke the mold with you. You’re timeless, a masterpiece, and I’m in awe of everything you are.” Her eyes glisten behind fluttering lashes, but the growing smile on her face is all the reassurance I need. “I promise you, no more yelling and no more shutting you out.”
Willa shakes her head. “No more shuttingeach otherout. Communication always. We talk about it, even when we’re scared shitless.”
“Even then.” I smile and nuzzle her nose. “Especially then.”
“Then I should tell you something.” Willa’s eyes widen, and I swear her heart beats straight through all the layers of clothes between us so I feel it against my skin. “I’m scared of what you mean to me, Tre.”
The pounding in my chest matches hers. Our entire journey has been a whirlwind thus far, but we’re about to go the deepest we’ve ever gone with each other. “And what do I mean to you, Gem?”
“…Everything,” she whispers. Her eyes stay fixed on mine as she shows me the full range of her fear. It’s raw and breathtaking, seeping into my chest. A privilege I swear to never take for granted.
“You mean everything to me too, Willa. Everything.”
With slow kisses, she brands me as if she’s my first and my last. Everyone before her is irrelevant. She’s the only one who matters. I urge the message forward, my heart to hers, and her kiss answers the quiet call, laying claim on the secluded places inside my heart.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
WILLA
It took all of my composure to keep from erupting into tears right there in Dr. Quentin’s office. Three to four weeks of bedrest to see if the spotting will stop. I have a business to run, and an intern to teach. A fucking New Year’s Eve party to suffer through tomorrow. I can’t do any of that from my bed.
“Gem?” Trevor asks, face pinched into a frown.
“I’m fine.” My fingers are gripped so tightly in my lap, I’m not sure how he wiggles his in between them, but as soon as he intrudes and brings my hand to his lips, a wave of calm washes over me.
“Nah. We’re not doing that anymore, remember? Talk to me.”
“I’m just pissed that I’ll be stuck in bed for a month. And I have to come up with an emergency plan for the studio now.” I reach my other hand up to slide my camera charm against the chain, the new habit quickly occupying my fingers. It’s more than aggravation. Ever since I found out I was pregnant, a small part of me has held on to the hope that I could somehow make Europe happen. Despite the extreme costs a new baby brings, there’s been a small glimmer that I could make it work—even if it’s a year from now. But every complication I’ve had threatens to snuff out thathope, and now that I won’t be working for a month, I can barely see the flicker. I underestimated just how taxing all of this would be. Juggling a business, a baby, and a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Europe feels daunting now.
Trevor nods and kisses the back of my hand again, knowing I don’t need a solution from him. I’ll figure it out; I always do. Him sitting with me while I process this means more than any problem-solving could.
He pulls his SUV up to the cluster mailbox, then sets the pile of mail in my lap as he finds a place to park. Flipping through the junk ads and bank statements gives me a short reprieve from my brooding until my fingers still on the large white envelope at the bottom. I readU.S.Department ofbefore the final words are obscured by a stream of blurriness. The car jolts when Trevor parks, and his arms are around me as soon as his seatbelt hits against the window.
There’s no hope of stopping this right now. Holding my passport in my hands is the final whisper in the wind to snuff out the one thing I’ve dreamed about for years. This envelope represents something that remains just out of reach—just out of my ability—as my responsibilities drag me back down to earth. I’m about to be a mom. Babies are little for a while, and as much as I’ve tried to hold on, there will be no Europe anytime soon. To give the nurturing I never got, I need to shift my priorities. My shoulders tremble while I come to conclusions I’ve pushed away for weeks.
“Let’s get you settled inside, sweetheart.” Trevor presses a kiss to my forehead as he grabs the stack of mail, the simple act sending a fresh torrent through me. Even without understanding all this nonsense, his support is a constant. He’s the calm in the storm, the beacon of light, and as he leads me into the house, he’s every last bit of comfort I need.
Trevor drops the mail on the counter and leads me back to the bedroom. I’m still a bumbling mess when he sets me on the edge of the bed, and even more of a disaster as I watch him pull my favorite pajamas from my dresser. He takes them into mybathroom, and as soon as I hear the shower turn on, I wail. Going from stifling despair at losing my dream to utter admiration as I watch Trevor ignore everything else just to care for me shatters my last remaining walls. I adore this man.
He guides me to the bathroom, wipes my tears with his thumbs, and presses a kiss to my lips. “You relax in the shower. I’ll meet you in the room with a snack when you’re done.” The door closes behind him, and I have no hesitation to do what he says. The way my heart is lit up like a Christmas tree, he could ask me to Hula Hoop, and I’d do it.
