Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Trevor
H arry Styles crooned on the radio as I peered over Teresa’s shoulder at her home. It was one of the new complexes—six units crammed onto a lot that previously might have accommodated one medium-sized house. The units were so narrow I wondered how they’d managed to fit stairs in them. The windows faced a busy road which led to a large intersection, the one with the corner deli I knew she liked.
I’d never been invited here, but I knew the approximate location. My latest rental was close by—not totally by accident—and I’d walked past many times, trying to imagine which ones of the identical three-paneled windows belonged to her. I’d only been able to narrow it down by a process of elimination, concluding that her tiny strip of lawn was the one that didn’t have kids’ toys lying around. It was cute in that factory-made way that always made me think of Lego.
“Handy location,” I commented.
“You can say it looks boring,” she shot back. “And before you ask, it feels exactly as narrow on the inside. You’d bruise your shoulders.”
Was this her way of saying I wasn’t invited?
“I better drop ye off here, then. Don’t think I can take any more bruising.”
She turned to look at me, holding still, her teeth skating along her bottom lip, her eyes conflicted. “I need time, Trevor. I need to clear my head.”
“Okay,” I replied. What else could I say?
“Thank you. For everything,” she finally uttered, opening the car door. “I’ll talk to you later.”
And then she was gone, leaving behind an empty seat that mocked me. I’d freaked her out. I’d driven her away. And I still wasn’t over her.
Would I ever be?
“Meet me for a beer,” I said as soon as Charlie picked up.
I’d arrived home to my stale and dusty apartment with one wilted house plant, but I couldn’t be alone with my thoughts.
“Hang on a sec,” Charlie said. “I’ll check with Bess.”
I dodged a pile of moving boxes to throw myself on the brick-like couch. Next week, I’d have to give up this place and move to my cabin in Cozy Creek. I would either work remotely, or the company would move closer. Either option didn’t worry me. I’d taken this gamble for a reason. I couldn’t keep living in the same town, two streets over, hoping to run into her at the deli. It was probably best I put some distance between us and start over. Besides, with my current income, I couldn’t keep both places.
I waited for a moment, listening to the muffled conversation between Charlie and Bess, with Celia’s young voice in the mix. She must have missed her parents during their little getaway. I heard Bess say something about me needing a friend, and Charlie agreed. I did, too.
“O’Malley’s in half an hour?” Charlie finally replied.
“Perfect.”
It was the Irish pub around the corner that had at least two happy hours every night, possibly more. We’d never been able to avoid one.
Ten minutes later, I pushed open the door, taking in the sticky floors, cracked vinyl seats and bowls of beer nuts you usually ate, by accident, after a couple of beers, and ended up ordering vodka after to disinfect your mouth. Not that I was planning on getting wasted.
Charlie appeared thirty minutes later, his jacket hanging open and cheeks red from the cold. I’d already ordered for us, snatching a private booth at the back.
“Sorry if it’s gone flat.” I nodded at his beer. “I got here a bit early.”
“All good.” Charlie took a sip and winced. “So, what’s going on?”
Normally, we would have wasted a good half hour with idle chitchat, talking about work or sports or movies. But today, it seemed pointless.
“So, I’m not over Teresa,” I said.
“No, you’re not,” he confirmed.
“But she… I don’t know if she feels anything for me. What should I do?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“I think, in general, you’ve done… enough. More than any man should ever do. I mean, you make the rest of us look lazy.” Charlie took a sip of beer and grimaced.
“And sane.”
“That, too. But also, a bit lame. Bess asked me yesterday if I was obsessed with her before we got together. I mean, I had a crush on her, but I didn’t know her last name. I didn’t know where she lived. I didn’t know what she did outside of work.”
“We work pretty closely together,” I argued. “We have a private chat, and we talk every day. It’s different.”
Charlie straightened in his seat. “You have a private chat? She talks to you… in private?”
“Yeah.”
“You mean, before this trip, when she was avoiding you in these super-creative ways?”
“Like when she suddenly had covid with no symptoms when I was coming to the office?” I let out a sad chuckle, finishing my beer.
“Or when she had huge bunions and couldn’t walk?”
I laughed a little less sadly. “She definitely doesn’t have bunions.”
Charlie’s laugh fizzled out and he gave me a serious look. “You’re saying, she was talking to you all that time? In private?”
I nodded, not sure what he was getting at. “It started as a work chat. I had to send her all these alternate headings, and she ripped them apart and I needed to be there to rewrite and rewrite… It made sense.”
“For the culinary school campaign? That was months ago!”
“Why is this news? We all work together. Of course, we talk.”
“But… privately. Is it all about work?”
“No. We talk about anything. I try to make her feel better when she’s stressed out. She sends me memes…”
“She was dating that other guy. Did she talk about him?”
“No.” I hadn’t asked, either. “Sometimes, she said she’d had a late night, or something like that, so I figured she’d been out with him.” I thought back to our chats. “Sometimes, she messaged me on the weekend. Once when she was babysitting Celia and was nervous about bedtime.”
“She talked to you about it? You don’t even have kids.”
“I have nieces and nephews. She doesn’t. And I’m sure she was talking to her sister, too. Maybe other friends. I was probably way down the list.”
“I don’t think you are,” he said. “I don’t think you realize how much she’s leaning on you.”
I shrugged. She could lean on me as much as she liked.
“Has she messaged you since you dropped her off?” Charlie asked.
I picked up my phone and there it was—a chat message from Teresa. The first one she’d ever sent me with a photo of herself. She sat on an unmade bed, wearing a white tank top, her hair shower fresh, smiling.
Teresa: Shower + fresh clothes = magical combo!
I showed it to Charlie, who shook his head, looking almost angry. “You need to cut her off.”
“Cut her off, how?”
“Close the chat, man! She’s friend-zoned you in that chat box and you need to get out.”
“She’s never sent me a selfie before,” I argued, my eyes lingering on that smile, heart aching over how much I wanted to touch her.
“She’s stringing you along.”
I released a heavy sigh, turning the phone face down on the table. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
Charlie huffed at my hesitation but changed the subject. “You still moving house? Because I’m not sure we can move the office just yet. They discovered a leaky pipe and there’s some water damage that needs to be fixed first. The agent just called me.”
“Okay. That’s fine. I’m moving on Wednesday. I can’t keep paying rent.”
“We can raise your salary.”
I shook my head. I knew what he was talking about, and it wasn’t an option.
“Suit yourself,” he finally said. “Did Teresa say what she’s going to do if we move? Is she leaving?”
“We barely spoke on the way back. She was rather shaken when I picked her up from Kyle’s.”
Charlie’s chin lifted in curiosity. “What the hell happened there?”
I gave him a rundown of what I knew. His frown deepened with every word. “She thought Kyle was going to murder her?”
“I know. It’s a bit wild.”
“There isn’t even a murderer loose or anything. They found the missing tourist. It had nothing to do with Gavin or Kyle. She just ran off with her ski instructor and finally emerged from her sex-cation. It was just in the news.”
“So, she didn’t know everyone was looking for her with dogs and helicopters?”
“Apparently, there’s no cell phone coverage around there and they were… busy.” Charlie raised his brows.
“Bloody hell.” I let out a long sigh.
“So, is there something going on between Kyle and Teresa?” Charlie asked.
“Other than one thinking the other is a serial killer? I don’t know. I think Kyle likes her. He was hitting on her at that Fourth of July party.”
“Wow.” Charlie took a drag of his beer, staring out the window. “She’s got two guys with cabins in Cozy Creek after her.”
“So, what do I do?” I asked again, part of me still hoping for a different answer.
“About what?”
“Teresa.” I hated how desperate my voice sounded. “I love her. I’m an idiot, but I do. All that stuff we found out about her past, I want to fix it. I want to take down that jerk who threatened her. But she didn’t sound that keen. She told me she needed time. So, what do I do?”
Charlie looked at me like I was playing dumb. “I already told you. Nothing. If she needs time, you give her time.”
My stomach twisted. “How much time?”
“As much time as she needs. And stop talking to her. Delete that chat.”
We sat in silence, slowly draining our beers, as I digested Charlie’s advice. He was right. I couldn’t insert myself into any of it. All I could do was wait.