37. Willa
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
WILLA
D r. Quentin confirmed everything yesterday. A midrange “SCH” as she called it, with orders to take it easy until my sixteen-week appointment in a couple of days. She’ll recheck everything then, hoping it’s shrunk.
The percentages for complications are terrifying, no matter how small they are.
But after researching for most of the last twenty-four hours, I’m feeling a little more acceptance about my new condition.
While I’m still worried, Dr. Q seemed hopeful that it could resolve on its own.
By the time I woke up this morning, the bleeding had slowed to spotting, giving me the confidence to get some editing done in the studio.
The doctor said to stay off my feet as much as possible, but didn’t say anything about not coming to work.
I let the technicality propel me right into the studio this morning, staying seated for most of the day.
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 as he 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 you thinking ?”
“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 meant at 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…”
“Because that’s going 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.
“Congrats, Boss Lady…” Emily stands next to me, anxiously bouncing on her toes. Her nervous laughter irks my entire being right now.
“Thanks,” I murmur, selecting the RAW files to back up to the external hard drive. “Monique and Cara should be back from lunch soon. I’m sure you’ll fill them in. I’ll call everyone with a game plan when I have one.”
“Got it.” Emily slips her sleeves over her knuckles, her shoulders scrunched up to her ears. “He’s right, you know. You really should be home. My sister had a rough pregnancy too. You don’t wanna mess around with bleeding.”
“I know.” I sigh, glancing at the giant dummy checking his watch by the front door.
Trevor thinks he can give me the cold shoulder for two days and storm into my studio with demands?
I don’t care how right he is, I’m the one in control of my time.
I take an extra two minutes for petty’s sake, grab my things, and walk right out the door.
His silver SUV is parked front and center, and I tap my foot on the blacktop while I wait.
He keeps the doors locked until he’s next to me, reaching for the handle.
Once it’s open, he steps back, folding his arms to avoid touching me.
The move is like gasoline to the flames.
“I can open my own damn door, Trevor,” I snap.
He sucks his teeth, waiting for me to buckle up, and then closes my door without a word.
Everything’s the same as it has been, but it all feels wrong.
We don’t even make it a block down the street before he starts in on me.
“I’m getting real sick of your attitude when all I’m trying to do is help, Willa.
” I lean forward and turn up the radio to ignore him.
Childish? Yes. But he fucking started it.
He turns the radio back down, and I’m tempted to reach for the dial again.
Tit for tat. “Oh, so now you have nothing to say?” he asks.
I crush my lips between my teeth to keep my rebuttal to myself, turning my body to the window like the view is my favorite movie.
“You heard Dr. Quentin. You’re supposed to avoid stress, Willa.”
“Okay, well you’re the one stressing me out right now, Trevor .”
“Me?” He chuckles without an ounce of humor behind it. “How am I stressing you out?”
“You’re yelling at me!”
“I’m not yelling at you; I’m yelling at the situation!”
“It’s the same damn thing! I get it, okay? You’re mad at me. Message received.” My voice cracks, and the wall of tension inside breaks, opening up the floodgates. I swipe at my face.
“I’m not—” Trevor sighs and checks over his shoulder before changing lanes. “What are you talking about? Why would I be mad at you?”
“How the hell should I know? You haven’t touched me since we left Nebraska, and after all the things you said you wanted, I’m just really fucking confused.
And scared. And tired. I had the nightmare last night— twice— and couldn’t get back to sleep, but I couldn’t even talk to you about it because everything’s changed.
” The words fall out of me in a jumbled mess.
“Shit. Willa?—”
“And you haven’t called me ‘Gem,’ Trevor.
You like dead plants more than me, and you keep calling me Willa !
” When his eyes meet mine, I wail, burying my face in my hands.
It sounds so irrational, but I don’t even consider whether all of this nonsense is hormone-induced because it really doesn’t matter.
Everything I said is true. We need to talk about it, as messy as it gets .
The car slows, and I feel it drift to the side of the road.
My embarrassment keeps my head in my hands, and even though the music still plays, I hear the driver’s side door open and close.
After a few seconds, my door opens too. My seatbelt, the only thing keeping me upright, goes slack, and my slumping body is caught by an orange, clove wall of warmth.
Trevor’s arms wrap around me, his palms making slow passes over my back.
“I’m not mad at you, Willa. I’m mad at myself.”
“For what?” I sniffle. “You didn’t do anything.”
“I hurt you, Gem. You’re fucking bleeding because of me, and I didn’t think you wanted me to touch you after that.”
Gem . I never thought those three letters meant so much until now, like the sun peeking out from the storm clouds. And then I hear the rest of his sentence and pull back, confused. “You didn’t hurt me…”
“You were just fine before we…” He looks down.
“Tre, both Maya and Dr. Q said this complication isn’t anyone’s fault. It just happens.”
“Yeah, I know.” He tips his forehead to mine with a sigh, his knuckles gliding over my upper arms. “This is my own shit, and I’m sorry I pulled you into it.
I got inside my head… Shut you out, thinking that’s what you wanted, when I should have just talked to you.
” He flicks his worry-filled eyes to mine and back down, and my heart breaks.
Whatever it is has been eating him up inside.
“Can you tell me what shit you’re talking about?”
He nods. “I will, but we need to get you home first. Please? I’ll tell you anything you want to know when we get home.”
I expect him to pull away and get behind the wheel, but he doesn’t move.
His face is pulled in tight, eyes still down as if he’s trying to figure out what to say next.
He looks so worried, so tired , and I want to grab it all from him and throw it out the window.
This isn’t him . Taking his face in my hands, I caress his cheeks with my thumbs until he looks up at me with wet eyes.
“I’m sorry for shutting you out, for the yelling.
I let you down after I told you I’d always be there for you, and I’ll never let it happen again. ”
“I believe you.” When I lay a soft kiss on his lips, he clutches my arms as if he’s found a life preserver after days lost at sea.
He kisses me back so earnestly; I have full confidence this was a one-time lapse in judgment.
Trevor’s not this person. I know better than anyone what it’s like to get caught up in your own shit.
“I’m sorry for going into work. I think I was trying to convince myself I’m still in control of this pregnancy. It was stupid…”
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he whispers, finding my lips again.
After a slow, repairing kiss, Trevor nuzzles my nose, returning my smile with a small one of his own.
God, I’ve missed those dimples. I never realized how much I love his smile before now.
Seeing it for the first time in days sets everything right in the world again.
When he gets back behind the wheel, the first thing he reaches for is my hand.
We still don’t say much, but this feels different. This feels like it should .
With the tension between us earlier, I didn’t notice the mountain of items smashed into the back of his SUV. “Tre?”
“Yeah, Gem?”
Gem . I melt inside, and it distracts me for a second. When I squeeze his hand, he sends me a smile. “What’s all this stuff in the back?”
“Uh, it’s my belongings.”
“So, you flew home last night, packed up your place, and drove all the way back here?”
“Yep. I need to be here. For you and the baby.”
“What about your lease? Your furniture?”
“I’ve been paying month-to-month for a while now.” He shrugs. “It’s all just stuff. Not important.”
“Did you even sleep?”
He chuckles. “Not really. I tapped into Coast Guard bootcamp sleep deprivation mode.”
“Are you safe to be driving right now?” I eye him skeptically, and he wiggles the steering wheel to mess with me .
“I’m good. And before you lecture me about taking a day off, I got approval to work remotely while I wait for the LA transfer to finalize. EdTechU requires a mandatory three days off to transition my workstation to the remote server. I’m all yours until Friday.”
“Good. You can entertain me while I’m stuck in bed,” I grumble.
He raises our hands to his lips and kisses my thumb. “I’d love to.”