The Trust Factor

1. Deacon

Chapter one

Deacon

This was it.

My preparation for next year was about to pay off. I was a planner—I planned things. I liked knowing what would happen and when it would happen.

Have I mentioned I was a planner?

Falcon Flames, by definition, were two people who met at and then graduated from Bowling Green State University. Shortly after graduation, there was a wedding ring, and then once the “I Do’s” were spoken, the bond was sealed. You became part of a long list of people who found love where they went to college.

While asking my Falcon Flame to room with me next year in an apartment had been on my agenda for months, the whole event was a little ironic. I would’ve never waited this long to find a place. Most people had their leases signed months ago, and May was cutting it close. Luckily for me, my chemistry partner from last year worked for the landlord’s office, so he was able to make sure the property could be off the market for the time being.

Grounds for Thought was the perfect location for me to pop the question. I met Cassie at this bookstore freshman year and couldn’t wait to take the next steps with her. I could see it now: I would ask her to marry me right after I moved to Minnesota. Cassie’s family lived in Minnesota, and she wanted to return home after graduation. Cassie and I could come back to Grounds for Thought and take engagement photos, and we could even get on the waiting list for Prout Chapel, the iconic location known for marrying Falcon Flames.

I took a deep breath and scanned the rows of books around me. The smell of coffee and spring was in the air, and the shop was buzzing with students excited about the end of the semester and warm weather.

I checked my phone for the fourth time and placed it on the table in front of me. Cassie and I agreed to meet at two, and it was already ten after. Cassie only ran late for something when she was nervous or didn’t feel like going. Neither of those options made sense for coffee.

I snatched my phone and clicked on her contact photo. The phone rang three times before she answered.

“Hey, Deacon,” she said, sighing.

I smiled at the sound of her voice. “I know we said two, so I was just calling to make sure everything is okay. I was starting to get—”

“Deacon, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, baby. I got our table and your iced coffee and—”

“No, Deacon . . . I’m sorry, but I’m not coming for coffee.”

I stared at her drink in front of me, water dripping along the sides of the cup and gathering on the table. The entire time I had been here, I was worried that it would taste too watered down for Cassie. She liked her coffee strong. I even added an extra shot of espresso for her.

“I’ve been doing some thinking.” Cassie took a deep breath, and my heart pounded against my eardrums. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“You can’t do what?” An exasperated laugh left my chest, and I shook my head. “Come for coffee? ”

She went quiet for a moment, and I could hear her staggered breathing on the other end. It sounded like she was crying, and my heart fell to the fucking floor.

“Cass?” My throat tightened as her name left my mouth.

“Deacon, I want to break up. So much has happened since we met, and it all feels so fast. I’m going into my senior year of college, and I feel like the reins are being tightened around me.”

“Reins?” My eyebrows shot to the top of my forehead. “Cass, I was gonna ask you to move in with me next year, not offer you a promise ring.”

I would, however, be lying if I hadn’t looked at engagement rings this morning. The browser history on a cell phone was arguably the riskiest feature ever created.

I glanced around the bookstore, and all our engagement pictures rose in flames—not a romantic Falcon Flame, but the flames that took down three-story buildings and ran rampant through a forest. It was suddenly too hot in here to sit. I snagged the iced coffee off the table and headed for the exit.

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this. I don’t want this to be something I regret.”

“ Stop saying you’re sorry,” I begged, coming to a halt in front of Grounds for Thought. In front of the same shop where I met Cassie; the girl I planned my life with. “Cassie, don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and the line went dead.

I wasn’t sure how much time went by as I stood in the middle of the sidewalk, like a weirdo, with my mouth hanging open, a dripping cup of iced coffee, and my phone still on my call history. My feet felt like someone had bolted them to the ground. My girlfriend of three years just broke up with me—over the phone .

How long would she have left me waiting for her if I hadn't called? Had she been late on purpose because she knew I would call?

In my head, I was fuming, pissed off that I had to try and sort out Cassie’s decision she threw at me via speakerphone. I knew I was on speakerphone. Cassie hated talking on the phone and took almost all her calls that way.

My heart was trying to keep it together as a crack formed right down the middle of it. Shock crept into every cell in my body. I wasn’t a crier, so at least I had that going for me. I imagined the sight of a man getting his heart broken in front of a coffee shop wasn’t at the top of everyone’s end-of-the-year list.

Three years of Cassie. Three years of me —gone just like that.

I brought the iced coffee to my mouth and took a sip. Just like I anticipated, it was watered down and lukewarm. The drink lacked flavor, and the almond milk was starting to separate from the coffee. If that wasn’t a metaphor for my day, I wasn’t sure what was.

I walked across the street to my car, and once I was inside, I cranked the air and sat in silence. Music wasn’t appropriate right now since everything I listened to would remind me of Cassie. That’s what happened when someone was your everything for so long. They became songs, movies, phrases; anything that seemed like a shrug to someone else consumed your whole being.

I glanced up at the sky, hoping to be handed some clarity. “What the hell just happened, Dom?”