Twenty-six
Greyson
I grip the steering wheel, knuckles white, as I cross the bridge back to Paradise Hill. My mind is a tempest, churning with thoughts of Trinity and the mess Anita has caused, that I caused by not telling Trinity about Anita.
Driven by some sliver of hope, I steer my car toward the vineyard. Maybe Trinity sought refuge there.
Tarryn spots me the moment I step out of the car, her fury unmistakable. “Greyson! What the hell? How could you let that woman kick Trinity out of your house?”
Her words freeze my heart, but I don’t have time to wallow. “Tarryn, it’s not like that,” I assure her. “I was in the shower. By the time I realized she was there, Anita had already…” I trail off, the words catching in my throat.
“Trinity left.” Tarryn’s eyes soften with concern before hardening again. “She went back to Vancouver for work. ”
“Vancouver?” My heart sinks. “She wasn’t planning on going back today. For how long? When is she coming back?”
“She told me she’d call the next time she comes to town.” Tarryn shakes her head and walks back inside, leaving me to grapple with the magnitude of my mistake.
The drive back to my condo is a blur. When the elevator opens on the fifth floor, the sight that greets me steals my breath. Anita, bare as the day she was born, sprawls across my couch, a smirk on her lips.
“Anita, get dressed and get out,” I demand, my voice cold.
“Come on, Greyson,” she whines, tears welling up again. “Can’t we just—”
“No!” I cut her off. I grab her clothes and stuff them into her bag, tossing it into the open elevator. “I can’t say it any other way. It’s over. I’m in love with someone else. Not you.”
Naked and defeated, Anita gathers what’s left of her dignity, steps into the elevator, and vanishes.
I dial Trinity again, the ringtone echoing around my apartment. Voicemail. “Trinity, it’s Greyson. Please, just talk to me. I’ll explain everything. I just… I need to hear your voice and see you.”
I sit down and stare into space, frozen and overwhelmed. Perhaps I sleep, perhaps I just shut down, but the next thing I’m aware of, the sun is casting long shadows across my condo. The walls feel like they’re closing in on me, suffocating me with the silence of Trinity’s absence. My phone lies abandoned on the coffee table, its screen dark and unresponsive.
The elevator’s soft ding startles me, and I drag myself up, hoping against hope that it’s Trinity. But when the elevator doors slide open, Ryker stands there.
“Tarryn filled me in about Trinity,” he says, exiting the elevator. “How are you holding up?”
“Not great,” I admit.
Ryker surveys the room, his gaze pausing at the crumpled cushions where Anita laid earlier .
“Trinity went back to Vancouver,” I say. “She left because of Anita.” I can’t meet Ryker’s eyes. “I should’ve made her feel secure here with me. I should have told her about my past with Anita.”
Ryker doesn’t speak, but I see the question in his eyes. Why didn’t you?
“Trinity…she’s different,” I continue. “There’s something about her that just fits. I never wanted her to leave.”
“If you’d told her about Anita, she wouldn’t have been able to send her packing so easily,” Ryker finishes for me, nodding in understanding.
“Exactly.” I run a hand through my hair. “Now, she’s gone, and I’m left wondering why I let that happen. I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming.”
“Greyson.” Ryker places a hand on my shoulder. “Only you can fix this. You can’t let her slip away over a misunderstanding.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I know.”
I turn away from him, looking out the window at the fading light, wondering how I’ll bridge the distance between Paradise and Vancouver, between the life I thought I wanted and the future that now seems so uncertain without Trinity.
I pace the length of my condo. Paradise, with its familiar streets and the faces I’ve known all my life, feels claustrophobic now, like a beautiful cage that’s suddenly too small.
“Why are you here?” Ryker asks after a while. “You could live anywhere in the world. Why Paradise?”
The question hits an unexpected nerve, and my anger simmers. “Why do you live here?” I shoot back. I’ve never questioned it before, the deep roots I have in this place.
He shrugs. “I like it here. But if something were to happen, if I got a head of cardiology position at a major hospital or I fell in love with someone who doesn’t want to be here, I’d leave.”
His words knock the breath out of me. Move? Leave Paradise? The very thought sends a jolt through my system. “ Never thought about it. Even when Anita left for Toronto.” I admit. “The winery is here. I’ve never wanted to live anywhere else.”
Ryker studies me for a long moment, and I can see the gears turning in his head. He doesn’t know Trinity—not really—but he understands more than enough. “Oh. I thought you were in love with her.”
“I’m not in love with her!” I yell, my frustration mounting as I deny what I’ve already said is true. But I want to tell her before I tell the world. It’s bad enough I told Anita before I said anything to Trinity.
“Trinity’s important to you,” he amends. “Don’t lose out on something great just because you’re tied to a place. You say you don’t want to live in Vancouver, but what’s more important? The where or the who?”
His question is like a splash of cold water. What am I willing to sacrifice? My comfort zone, my town, for her?
“Think about it,” Ryker says, his hand on the doorframe. “If she’s the one, figure out what you’re willing to do to prove it. You’ve always been good at fixing things. It’s time to fix this. That is, if you want her.”
With that, he turns to call the elevator, but his words linger long after he’s gone, planting a seed of determination I can’t ignore.
Can I let go of the life I’ve always known? The answer isn’t clear, but the image of Trinity Blaine’s face—the way she laughed, the way we were together, the depth of her understanding—makes my heart lurch with longing. There is no one else like her.
I lean my head back, close my eyes, and allow myself to imagine a different life. One that might not be set against the backdrop of Paradise but is nonetheless filled with the light of Trinity’s smile. Suddenly, there are more possibilities than I ever considered.