8. Trevor
CHAPTER EIGHT
TREVOR
F rustrated doesn’t begin to cover the pent-up agitation I’ve been ignoring for weeks.
Willa made it perfectly clear she wasn’t interested in anything else after our night together.
What choice do I have, other than moving on?
Going through the motions—out with friends, random dates from the MeetCute app, the gym—whatever keeps me busy, really.
This is my new normal for the time being.
My head isn’t in it, but sitting alone in my quiet apartment has never been good for my mind.
Neither has wallowing in self-pity. I’ll be alright as soon as I figure out how to get over someone who was never really mine to begin with.
A mirage I can’t seem to shake. Needless to say, I’ll be spending the evening throwing weights around the gym after work.
My sister’s name pops up on the screen as my phone skitters across my desk, snapping me back to the handful of incorrectly submitted proposals on my computer screen. I rub the headache forming behind my eyes and sigh. I’ll call Maya back after I fix up this document.
This report has enough errors to warrant a team intensive on corporate expectations.
Again . Tech sales generally has a high turnover rate, but with the way Chase and I run things, our associates advance to higher positions instead of leaving the company.
It’s a good ego boost, except for cohorts like this one where most of our associates are brand new to the industry.
After seven years, I forget how much of a learning curve there is.
But training comes with the territory as a manager, and despite all the tedium in the beginning, the teaching aspect is one of my favorite parts of this job.
They’ll catch on eventually; I just need to pick up the slack until then.
I duplicate the document to use as a nonexample, polish up the inaccuracies, and submit the corrected form for processing.
A text buzzes through as I stretch the muscles in my neck and shoulders, leaning back in my leather office chair.
Friday afternoons at EdTechU are pretty slow, and it’s close enough to the end of the workday that I feel the fight against procrastination leave as I pick up my phone.
Big Sis
Answer your phone, T.
Me
So you can guilt me into coming home for Thanksgiving? Not gonna happen.
Big Sis
Come on. You could surprise Mom. She’ll do that Jazz Hands squealing thing when she cries. Pure entertainment.
Me
I’m sure she can save the Jazz Hands for Christmas…
Big Sis
I’m gonna put Hazel on a video chat with puppy dog eyes.
Me
Not gonna work…this time.
A video call pops up on my screen, and I instantly smile at the picture of my sister dressed in pink scrubs, hugging my niece.
She would pull out the big guns to get me home to Nebraska twice this year.
Maya is an OBGYN back home. Why she opened her practice in that hellhole is beyond me, but she’s doing well for herself.
My thumb hovers over the video icon, but a knock on my open office door stops me from answering.
“She’s pregnant, man.” Chase smiles from the doorway, his blue eyes glinting as he struts across the room. His navy EdTechU polo and khakis match mine.
“Who? Kayla?”
“Yeah. We found out last night.” He runs his hand through his dark blond hair and blows out a breath. “It still doesn’t feel real.” The cheesy grin stretched across his face almost hides the tired lines around his eyes. “I was up all night stressing out.”
“Bro, that’s amazing!” I abandon my phone on the desk and pull him into a hug. He and his wife have been together for so long, this next step doesn’t surprise me at all. “Congratulations. How’s she feeling?”
“She’s grouchy as hell.” He grimaces, but it only lasts a second before the smile overtakes his face again.
Kayla doesn’t play around as it is. I imagine pregnancy hormones will amplify her Type A tendencies, but Chase is built for fatherhood.
He’ll rock at it. “I need to skip poker night tomorrow.”
“I doubt that’ll be a problem.” I chuckle when he flips me off. Chase and I have a weekly game night with some of my buddies from the Coast Guard. His poker face is as horrible as his strategy. “How far along is she?” I ask.
“Eh, not too sure. Her first appointment isn’t for a couple of weeks. We’re not really sharing the news yet, but she wanted me to ask if you could get some prenatal recs from your sister.”
“Bet. I’ll shoot her a text right now.” Grabbing my phone off the desk, I type out the message and slip it in my pocket. “And I’ll keep it to myself.”
“Thanks, man.” Chase slumps into the seat in front of my desk. “You, uh, checked your email? ”
Shaking my head, I move back to my computer and tap the keyboard, scanning over my inbox once the screen lights up.
My stomach drops as soon as I click the corporate newsletter and see the rosy-cheeked menace in all her glory—my worst nightmare.
My ex : the company ’ s newest training supervisor . I tip my head back with a groan.
“Explains why she was in the building a few weeks ago…” Chase drums his fingers on his leg, flashing his teeth in a nervous grin. “She’ll be around.”
He had a front-row seat to that entire relationship and its demise. Helped me deal with the fallout too. My hell , what an evolving shit show this is turning into. The woman is destructive. “I’ll deal with her when I have to, as little as possible.”
“She’s overseeing flex trainers too…”
Fucking fantastic . I’ve been considering moving to a corporate trainer position for a while now.
I love traveling, and being on the road most of the week soothes that wanderlust. Ever since me and Chase were first invited to teach our sales methods at the LA office a few years ago, I’ve enjoyed getting my feet wet in a trainer roll.
We run such a well-oiled machine here, but flex would be perfect for me.
With Marla in charge, I’m not sure I want it anymore.
Scrubbing my face with both hands, I groan again.
As I sit up in my chair, someone clears their throat from the hall.
Chase looks over his shoulder right as I shift my eyes to the doorway, and there she is—Willa—wringing her hands together.
Her waist-length twists are flecked with golden brown, just like the last time I saw her.
Those soft lips I’ve been dreaming about are smashed into a line so tight they’re pale.
A black leather jacket hugs around her mustard yellow turtleneck, and an olive-green skirt outlines the curve of her hips down to her knees.
She’s stunning, despite the tension in her face.
I’m dying to talk to her, but I don’t move, afraid the mirage will dissolve into the ether.
“Hey, Willa! What are you doing here?” Chase doesn’t miss a beat, walking across the room and pulling her into a hug.
He knows about the night in San Diego. She wouldn’t talk to me after, and I needed someone to confide in.
He won’t say anything though, except maybe to Kayla. But she won’t say anything either.
Willa’s rigid as stone in Chase’s embrace, just staring at me.
How do I start this conversation ? The morning after a one-night stand is one thing; I barely knew what I wanted to say then.
Add in several weeks and way too much overthinking, and I have no idea how this is supposed to go.
An apology would be a good start, I think.
There’s not a regretful bone in my body about our time together, but I don’t have hotel flings.
I should have had the balls to ask her out before sleeping with her.
She deserved more. I need her to understand that, but the words are stuck in my throat. So she stares, and I stare right back.
“I…shouldn’t have come.” Willa shakes her head, turns on her heel, and hurries down the hallway.
I’m out of my seat as soon as I realize she’s taking off.
She came all this way to San Francisco—to my office—to see me.
It’s clear she’s ready to talk about that night.
Pushing past Chase, I spot Willa at the elevator and jog the short distance to catch her.
The doors slide open as I’m reaching out toward her, and she scurries inside, pressing the close button frantically.
“Willa, wait! Please, don’t leave.” I slip my hand between them, triggering the sensor to keep them from closing.
“You’re working. I shouldn’t have come here like this.”
The elevator beeps angrily as I stand between the doors, prompting me to take a step forward and let them shut behind me.
Being back in an elevator with Willa sets my thoughts swirling with memories of the last time we were in one together.
I swallow the thick lump clustering in my throat and take a step toward her.
Her back presses against the wall as she looks down at the floor.
“I don’t know why I came here. This can wait. You’re at work.”
“It’s fine,” I say with a smile. “I can take a break. Don’t worry about it…”
The elevator settles on the main floor, and she slides past me so fast my head spins. Her brisk walk to the revolving doors sends me jogging after her again, catching up in a few steps. “No,” she says over her shoulder, determined to make it outside. “W-we can talk later. It’s fine. I’m sorr?—”
“Willa.” I grab her elbow right before she reaches the doors.
“Don’t apologize. I can take a break. Just…
come back up so we can talk.” She turns, looking right into my eyes.
Whatever that emotion is on her face claws at my heart.
She looks terrified, near tears, and I do the first thing I think of—wrap her in my arms.
I don’t think she’s much of a hugger. She tries to pull away at first, but I hold her to me anyway, and eventually, she hugs my waist. Her body shakes as she trembles against me, her tears soaking through my polo shirt.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve been wanting to talk to you too.
I told you I don’t do stuff like that. It’s been eating me up inside, thinking you hate me for what happened. ”
She pulls away, shaking her head. “No, this isn’t…” Taking a swipe at her face, she steps back and jams her hands into her jacket pockets. “Trevor, I’m pregnant.”
Huh ?
She’s standing in front of me, but steadily being pulled farther away as the bustling lobby fades to fuzz around me.
Her lips are moving, and yet, I hear nothing besides the echo of the last word she said.
Pregnant ? I scan her entire face, blinking rapidly when I don’t find an ounce of humor.
My stomach drops, the taste of bile rising in my throat.
It’s not until she snaps in my face a few times that I’m transported back to the lobby. “Did you hear me?”
My hands shake as I take a deep breath. “Y-you’re…and I’m the…?”
“Yeah, Trevor. You think I’d come all the way to San Francisco if it wasn’t yours? You’re the only one it could be.”
“But how? We used a c?—”
“Condoms break. Leak. Microtears. I don’t fucking know.
They’re only, like, 98 percent effective.
It happens.” Her snappy attitude is a quick switch from the sobbing she was doing seconds ago, but I’m still stuck on the pregnancy part.
We were careful. We did everything right.
Looking into her eyes, the only thoughts rolling through my mind are all the improbabilities.
I believe her completely, but the chances are so minuscule, I just need a minute.
My hand finds hers, and I dazedly pull her off to the side.
I don’t realize I’m holding onto her so tightly until she tugs her hand away and shakes it. “We can take a DNA test.”
“For what?” The stupid question slips from my lips before I can filter the thought.
“A random woman says she’s pregnant with your baby, and you don’t want a test?”
“From a random woman? Yeah.” I turn to her. “But you’re not one.”
“ Yeah, okay .” She scoffs.
“Willa, I’ve seen the kind of person you are. You’re blatantly honest. If you say the baby’s mine, I believe you.”
“I…” Her jaw hinges as if she’s waiting for words to fall out on their own, then her eyes drop to her lap. “I really need to pee.”
“Yeah. Yep.” I shake my head to knock the last few tendrils of shock out of my system and place my hand on her back as I guide her to the restroom.
Waiting on the bench outside the door, I try to make sense of my rapid thoughts .
Willa ’ s pregnant . I’m the reason she ’ s pregnant .
It ’ s my fault . I’m responsible for ruining her life .
Shit . She must hate me for it . I need to make this right .
There ’ s no way in hell I’m letting her deal with this alone .
I have to figure out how to make it as easy as possible for her , how to care for her . I need to ?—
Willa steps out and sits next to me, not attempting to say anything else. It only takes one sideways glance at her curled-in frame before I’m on my feet. “Let me grab my things. I’ll be five minutes, and then we can go talk. Please, don’t leave.”
I wait for her to nod and take off for the stairwell, checking over my shoulder when I get there before jetting up to the second floor.
I just need to move, do something with the energy coursing through me.
Willa’s pregnant. I’m the father. We have things to figure out, but I need her to know she’s not alone in this.