18. Trent
Trent
The Next Evening
I spent two hours trying on several shirts before settling on a dark grey button-down with the sleeves rolled up to my forearms and a clean pair of jeans.
I was nervous.
Tonight felt fresh and light, but also incredibly important. Tonight was about us, no secrets, no assumptions, just two people stepping across the threshold into something completely new.
When I pulled up to Kat’s house at six o'clock sharp, she met me at the front door.
My breath caught at the sight of her. She wore a simple sage-green sundress that brought out the peridot flecks in her eyes, her dark hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She looked rested, beautiful, and lighter than I’d seen her in too long.
"Hey," she said with a smile, stepping out onto the porch and pulling the door shut behind her.
"Hey," I murmured, stepping up to meet her. I didn't rush in for a hug or a kiss, even though that is exactly what I wanted to do. Instead, I offered her a warm, genuine smile. "You look incredible, Kat."
A pink blush touched the tops of her cheeks as she looked up at me through her lashes, saying, "You clean up pretty good yourself, Prescott."
I took her to an Italian restaurant on the riverfront, a place that felt private and intimate.
For two hours over handmade pasta and wine, we talked.
Really talked. Not about my mom’s appointments, or work, or the past. We talked about her plans for her program in the fall, how she was going to try to manage the full course load and keep her full-time job at the arena, and a book she’d read on the plane ride home.
I listened intently and then shared a ridiculous story about Gideon trying to bake a birthday cake for Dad while she was gone.
She laughed, that deep, throaty, gorgeous laugh I’d missed so damn much, and the last remaining tension in my shoulders finally melted away.
After dinner, the evening was mild and clear, so we took a slow walk along the paved pathway following the river.
The sun was setting in streaks of orange and deep purple across the water. About five minutes into the walk, as our hands brushed together, I stopped overthinking it and reached down, sliding my fingers between hers.
Kat didn't pull away. She tightened her grip, resting her thumb against the back of my hand.
We walked in comfortable silence before Kat spoke up, her voice quiet against the rush of the river.
"Trent?"
"Yeah?"
"What are we doing right now?" she asked, glancing up at me. "I mean... I know I asked in Zurich, and I know how you felt about being called my friend… what are we?"
I slowed my pace, looking down at her, trying to project my feelings to her. "What do you want us to be, Kat?"
She blinked, surprised by the question.
"Think about it," I said gently, stroking my thumb over her knuckles.
"We never actually defined our relationship before we got engaged.
We went from lingering looks and late-night talks on your porch, casual dating without a formal title, and then straight into a ring and a false timeline built on my stupid assumptions.
We skipped every normal step two people take when they fall for each other. "
Kat was quiet, looking out over the water as we kept walking. One second passed. Then five. Then ten.
My chest tightened slightly, the urge to jump in and fill the silence flaring up, to tell her she didn't have to answer right away, that we could take all the time she needed, that I wasn't going anywhere. I forced myself to keep my mouth shut and just listen.
Kat stopped walking, turning to face me completely. She looked up into my eyes, her hazel gaze clear, steady, and entirely sure of herself.
"Dating feels like too simple a term," she said, a small, tentative smile touching her lips. "Considering how long we've known each other, everything we've been through... and how much I still love you."
My heart was beating wildly with excitement.
"So," Kat continued, reaching up to gently lay her hand flat against my chest, right over my hammering heart. "Do you want to be my boyfriend, Trent Prescott?"
A grin spread across my face as I cupped her cheek in my palm, leaning down until our foreheads rested together.
"I would be honoured to be your boyfriend, Katerina Sterling," I whispered.
I leaned in, giving her a slow, lingering kiss. It was soft and completely unhurried. Kat sighed into my lips as if she too was feeling like a missing piece falling into place.
When I pulled back, her eyes were shining in the twilight.
"Come on," I said, taking her hand again. "There's something I want to show you before it gets too dark."
"Where are we going?" She asked as I led her back toward my truck.
"A little detour."
I drove us five minutes down the road, pulling off the main strip into an older, tree-lined neighbourhood. The location was perfect: a short drive from the arena where she worked, and a nice walk or short bike ride from the university campus where she’d be starting her classes in the fall.
I pulled into the driveway of a charming, slightly rundown two-story brick house built in the 1920s. It needed a new roof, the front porch was sagging, and the yard was overgrown, but the structural bones were solid.
"This is… this is our place," Kat gasped softly, looking out the passenger window. "Trent... this house was tied up in an estate forever. What are we doing here?"
"It came on the market while you were away," I said, turning off the ignition and turning in my seat to look at her.
"There was a ton of interest. Investors were lining up to tear it down or flip it into student apartments. I knew how much you loved it, so I put in an offer. I was so sure I would be outbid, so I didn’t want to get your hopes up. "
Kat’s eyes widened, turning her head to look at me in shock. "You bought it?"
"I bought it," I confirmed quietly. "And I want to be one hundred percent transparent with you about why, and what it means."
I reached across the console, taking both of her hands in mine.
"I didn't buy this to corner you into moving in with me," I said, making sure my voice was steady. "And I didn't buy it as some grand gesture to demand a shortcut back to an engagement. I bought it because it's a project I believe in, and because it's in a perfect location."
Kat listened quietly, her eyes searching mine.
"Here's my proposal… a real one, with zero pressure attached," I continued, offering her a warm grin.
"We are together now. We're going to go on proper dates, talk about everything, and build this relationship right.
And while we're doing that, if you want, we can work on this house together.
You pick the tile, the paint, the kitchen layout... and I'll do the heavy lifting."
"And when it's done?" She asked, a tender edge in her voice.
"When it's done, we'll decide together what comes next," I said honestly.
"If we're ready, we'll move in together and start our life.
If you aren't ready, or if you want your own space while you finish your degree, we can sell the house, split the profit from the flip fifty-fifty, and you can use your half for tuition or whatever you want. "
Kat stared at the house through the windshield, then turned back to look at me, a tear spilling over her lash line, for once not from grief or stress, but from sheer, overwhelming love.
"Wow… I… This is incredible and so unexpected," she murmured with a watery laugh.
"I'm learning," I smiled, leaning across the console, wiping the tear away with my thumb before kissing her softly. "So... what do you think, partner?"
Kat reached out, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck and pulling me close.
"I think," she whispered into my ear, "we have a house to rebuild. And a future to figure out."