16. Katerina
Katerina
May
The remaining months in Zurich flew by in a blur of long shifts, high-level rehab sessions, and a steady rhythm that had taken root between Trent and I, even with the distance between us.
He kept his promise. Every day, without fail, a message arrived from home.
Sometimes it was a voice note while he was walking a job site, telling me about the kitchen layout he was framing.
Sometimes it was a quick update on Cynthia, who was doing remarkably well under strict bed rest, her blood pressure stabilizing, or a joke about Gideon getting roped into running the company's administrative side.
And every few days, he dropped another memory into my inbox:
I loved how you stole my thick wool socks when the temperature dropped in October. You'd roll the cuffs twice and slide across the hardwood floor to get coffee in the morning. Like a blue-collar version of Risky Business in one of my flannel shirts and my bulky work socks.
Thankfully, Lars was no longer an issue.
After Trent’s visit, he had backed off, leaving me to manage the players' recovery programs unimpeded.
When my contract officially wrapped up, the front office offered me an extension for the following season.
I politely declined without even thinking twice.
My time in Zurich was done, and it was time to go home.
And I had a strong inkling of who, rather than what, had made me want to go back.
The flight back to Canada felt shorter than the one that had carried me away four months ago.
When I walked through the sliding doors of the international arrivals terminal, my heart took flight.
Standing near the edge of the barrier, wearing a fitted dark t-shirt, jeans, was Trent. He looked rested, healthy, and completely grounded. The desperate, panicked edge from January was gone, replaced by the man I had originally fallen in love with.
The moment his eyes locked onto mine, a massive smile spread across his face, and he stepped past the barrier to meet me.
"Welcome home, Kat," he said, stepping in to take the handle of my heaviest suitcase before pulling me into a long, grounding hug.
I resisted the urge to bury my face in his chest and smell him…
okay, maybe I took a quick sniff… but that was it.
After breathing in the scent of cedar, clean laundry, and home, I pulled back slightly, saying honestly, "It's good to be back. "
Instead of driving straight to my place to unload my bags, Trent took a turn onto a winding road just outside of town. He pulled his truck into a small, secluded park overlooking the river, shifted into park, and turned off the engine.
The silence inside the cab was thick, but somehow comfortable. May sunshine filtered through the windshield, highlighting the subtle flecks of gold in his dark brown eyes.
"I wanted a few minutes with you," Trent said gently, resting his forearms against the steering wheel and looking out at the water. "Before life gets busy again. Before you unpack and decide what is next for you."
I leaned back against the headrest, turning my head fully to look at him. "Okay."
Trent swallowed hard, his hands tightening slightly on the leather wheel. The confidence he’d worn at the airport softened into something vulnerable.
"There's something I need to tell you," he said, his voice dropping, "Something I’ve been terrified to say out loud for months, because I was scared you'd think I was trying to manipulate you or guilt-trip you.
But I promised you complete honesty. No more holding back.
No more hiding behind what's convenient. "
I shifted in my seat, my pulse quickening slightly. "What is it, Trent?"
He turned his head to face me, his dark eyes searching mine with sincerity.
"I grieved the baby, or rather, I have been grieving the baby," Trent whispered, the words coming out fragile and heavy with emotion. He took one of his hands off the steering wheel to run through his hair and squeeze the back of his neck.
I blinked, my throat tightening instantly. "Trent..."
"I know the pregnancy wasn't real," he said quickly, reaching across the console to take my hand, his thumb stroking the back of my knuckles.
"I know there was no baby, and that the test belonged to my mom.
But Kat... for three months, I lived in a world where you and I were having a child.
In my head, I imagined this beautiful, incredible little girl with your eyes, fierce personality, and stubborn streak.
I pictured holding her, building her a nursery, and watching you be her mother.
I saw her whole life play out and, along with it, our life together, a very happy life. "
A single tear slipped over my eyelashes for the grief etched in his words.
"When the truth came out," Trent continued, his voice cracking slightly, "it felt like a sudden death.
I had to mourn the loss of a life that only ever existed in my head.
And for a long time, I felt so ashamed of that grief.
I thought, How can I feel heartbroken over something that was never real in the first place? "
He squeezed my hand, holding my gaze with so much honesty.
"I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, Kat," he stressed softly.
"And I’m not saying it to sound like a martyr.
I just… I took the time when you were gone to look at all the ways I went wrong, how I reacted, how we didn't talk.
But also how I struggled with how to talk to you afterwards.
I had so many things I wanted to say and do to prove that I loved you for you.
But I was hit with such a blow, and I don't even know if…
No, that's not right. I do know that was why my mind was such a jumble. Because in an instant I lost you, the life I thought we were building, and our baby. I’m telling you because I spent those months carrying that illusion in secret, and I refuse to keep secrets from you ever again.
I loved that ghost of a family, but I love you…
the real, breathing, incredible woman sitting right next to me, so much more. "
I stared at him, my heart heaving in my chest as the full weight of his words washed over me. Tears were running down his beautiful face, matching mine.
For months, I had seen Trent through the lens of his mistake: the obligation, the duty, the panicked proposal.
But sitting here in the warmth of his truck, seeing him strip away every last defence, I realized the truth: he hadn't just made a mistake out of fear.
He had fallen in love with a future he thought was ours, and he had suffered through the loss of it all by himself.
I reached up with my free hand, cupping his jaw, feeling the slight stubble beneath my fingers, and leaned across the centre console.
"Thank you for telling me," I whispered against his cheek, pressing my lips gently to his skin that was wet with his tears. "Thank you for being real with me, Trent."
Trent let out a long, shuddering exhale, turning his face into my hand and kissing my palm, holding me tight bathed in the afternoon light.