15. Trent
Trent
I worked around the clock to pull it off.
Between managing three active residential build sites, co-ordinating crew schedules for the next two weeks, and ensuring Gideon had everything locked down, I didn't sleep a wink. But the moment Kat’s raspy, feverish voice faded over the phone two nights ago, I knew I wasn't staying in Canada.
I booked the first direct flight out to her, packed a single duffel for myself, and filled my checked luggage with her favourite things from home; including three boxes of NeoCitran, her specific brand of dark roast coffee, and two boxes of smarties she always craved when she was stressed, a cozy throw blanket she had left at my place and one of her favourite hoodies of mine.
Nine hours later, I was standing in the cold, damp morning air outside her Zurich apartment building, clutching the spare key Mark had helped me coordinate with her landlord.
I unlocked the front door, walked up the narrow stairs, and let myself into her apartment. The place was freezing, dark, and eerily quiet.
I set my duffel down by the door, took off my boots, and walked down the hall toward the bedroom.
Kat was curled into a tight ball under a thin duvet, shivering violently despite her thick flannel shirt, my flannel shirt.
Her forehead was slick with sweat, her breathing shallow and laboured.
My heart twisted into a tight, painful knot.
I stepped into the room, crouching beside the bed, and gently laid my palm against her cheek. She was burning up.
"Kat," I whispered softly.
Her eyelids fluttered open, heavy and glassy with fever. She blinked at me once, twice, as if convinced her brain was playing tricks on her. "Trent...?" she rasped, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm... am I hallucinating..."
"You're not hallucinating," I murmured, smoothing a damp strand of dark hair away from her forehead. "I'm right here."
"What are you... how are you..." She struggled to sit up, but I gently pressed my hand against her shoulder, guiding her back down onto the pillows.
"Shh, lie down," I said softly. "I took a flight. I'm here for a few days to take care of you. You don't have to worry about anything."
Tears welled in the corners of her glassy hazel eyes, and for the first time since everything blew up, she didn't push me away. She just let out a long, shuddering sigh, buried her face into the side of my hand resting on her pillow, and fell back asleep.
For the next thirty-six hours, I didn't leave her side.
I stripped her bed and washed the sheets.
I went to a local market down the street, bought fresh produce and chicken, and made a massive pot of homemade soup from scratch, a family recipe my mom shared with me.
I boiled water, mixed up a mug of warm, lemony NeoCitran, and sat on the edge of her bed, holding the mug to her lips until she finished every drop.
While she slept off the fever, I cleaned her kitchen, sanitized every surface, and batch-cooked meals to freeze in individual containers, the chicken soup, pasta, baked chicken breasts, and roasted vegetables, a few casseroles my mom was famous for and Kat always mentioned how much she loved; labeling each one with a sharpie so she’d have real food for weeks after I left.
By Friday afternoon, the fever had broken.
Kat sat wrapped in a blanket on her couch, sipping on broth from the chicken soup, her skin finally regaining its healthy, warm colour. She watched me quietly as I wiped down her kitchen counter, her expression soft, curious, and completely unguarded.
"You didn't have to fly across the Atlantic, Trent," she breathed, her voice still a little raspy. "You're supposed to be running the company."
"Gideon and Dad have it covered for a few days," I said, leaning back against the counter, folding my arms. "And yeah, I did have to. You were sick, exhausted, and running yourself into the ground. I couldn't just sit thousands of miles away knowing you were hurting."
Kat stared into her mug, tracing the rim with her thumb. "Lars was furious when I didn't show up yesterday," she admitted with a faint, tired laugh. "He sent me three emails demanding my doctor's note or that I make up the time."
My jaw tightened, the protective impulse flaring instantly. "I saw those. I took care of it."
Kat’s head snapped up. "What? Trent, what did you do?"
“Nothing illegal," I said smoothly, a small grin touching my lips, thinking about the look on his face.
"I took the note the doctor emailed you after that video consult yesterday morning, walked into the arena, and handed Lars a physical copy stating you were unfit for work until Monday. He tried to puff his chest out, spewed who knows what at me, so I stood over his desk glaring at him until he signed off on your sick leave.”
Kat stared at me, her jaw slightly open, before a soft, genuine laugh burst out of her. "So you are telling me that you gave Lars the stink-eye?"
"I gave him the 'if-you-overwork-my-girl-again-I'll-dismantle-you' eye," I corrected gently, stepping over to the couch and sitting down beside her. "He won't bother you this weekend."
Kat’s laugh faded, and she looked at me, really looked at me, for a long, breathless moment.
"What are we doing, Trent?" she asked softly, her eyes vulnerable and clear.
"Besides seriously overstepping on some major things like getting a copy of my key and reading my emails… I don’t think I have it in me to be mad either, because having you here has helped so much, and I…
What... What do I even call you right now? My friend?"
A low, rumbling growl escaped my chest before I could stop it. I reached out, gently capturing her chin between my thumb and forefinger, forcing her to hold my gaze.
"Don't call me your friend, Kat," my voice dropping into a rough, husky register. "Call me whatever you need to call me to feel comfortable right now. But don't call me that."
Her breath hitched. "Trent..."
"I'm yours," I whispered, sliding my hand up to cup her cheek, feeling the soft warmth of her skin.
"I've been yours since the day I met you, and I’m going to be yours whether you're in Canada or Switzerland.
I'm not asking for a label today, and I'm not asking you to make any promises.
I just hope that someday, when you're ready, you'll agree to be mine again. "
Kat swallowed hard, her eyes searching mine, filled with emotion that went far deeper than anything we’d ever shared during our engagement. There was no duty here. No secrets. Just us.
"I'm going to hold you to that," she whispered back, leaning into my palm.
On Saturday morning, my time was up.
My bag was packed, my boots were laced, and my taxi to the airport was waiting downstairs.
I stood in her doorway, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her small frame tightly against my chest. She wrapped her arms around my neck, resting her head against my collarbone, smelling like my cologne.
"Eat the soup in the fridge," I instructed quietly into her hair. "Take your medicine. And don't let Lars walk all over you."
"Yes, boss," Kat murmured against my chest, a small smile in her voice.
I pulled back just enough to look at her, cupping her face in both hands. I leaned down and pressed a deep, lingering kiss to her forehead, holding it there for three long seconds.
"I don't want to go back," I admitted, my voice tight with a sudden, aching grief. "I want to stay right here."
"I know," Kat whispered softly, resting her hands over mine. "Thank you for coming, Trent. Truly."
"I'm still all yours, Kat," I said, looking straight into her eyes so there was zero doubt left in her mind. "I'll be waiting for you when you get back in May."
I gave her one last, gentle squeeze, turned, ready to leave when her small hand wrapped around my arm, pulling me back.
“Kat?” I questioned, unable to ask what was wrong, because before I knew it she was up on tiptoe, her eyes so vulnerable, as she slowly brought her lips to mine in a kiss that took my breath away.
I wrapped my arms around her, holding her to me as we kissed for the first time since New Year's Eve.
When she pulled away with a shy smile on her face, I wanted to thump my fists against my chest and throw her over my shoulder, and take her home.
But I suppressed my inner caveman and promised to text when I got to the airport and landed back in Summit City.
The entire drive to the airport, I had a smile on my face and carried a light heart for the first time in months.