31. Trevor
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
TREVOR
“ L et me grab my camera.” Willa’s burgundy and white sweater dress brushes my hand as she slides past me and hurries up the stairs. It’s Christmas Eve, and I want to show her all the decorations and lights downtown, just the two of us.
I hadn’t planned on spending the entire day away yesterday, but Dad and Eli tricked me.
The damn fence was busted beyond repair, requiring us to dig new posts into the frozen ground and replace the barbed wire.
Dad and Eli used the six hours to interrogate me about everything from work, to Willa, to asking in-depth questions about how I plan to provide for the baby.
They even packed lunch, unbeknownst to me, and grilled me in the truck for an hour while they took their sweet time eating.
By the time we got back to the house, it was just long enough to shower and eat an early dinner before heading out to the Christmas Spectacular.
Needless to say, Willa and I were both exhausted by the time we laid down for the night.
I grab Willa’s coat and wait for her by the door, eager to take a little breather from my intrusive family. They adore her, and their excitement abounds, but I need the break. Every year, I seem to forget how much I enjoy my solitude until I don’t have any during my Christmas trip .
“Okay. Ready.” Willa smiles, reaching for her coat.
“You two will be back for the movie, right?” Mom asks, peeking around the corner.
“Yep. Wouldn’t miss it, Ma. Already set an alarm.”
“Good. You kids have fun!” She slips back into the kitchen, where the sound of dinner dishes fills the air.
We make it to the car, the sun painting pink across the cloudless sky as it sets.
I crank the heat up high, and Willa blows puffs of air in the residual cold, giggling at the vapor.
These past few days have been the most relaxed I’ve ever seen her.
She’s downright giddy. “So you’re a cold weather lady, huh? ”
“I guess I am. It’s just so peaceful out here, and all the acreage makes it seem even quieter. I love it.”
“The sound waves are sufficient in Nebraska?” I tease.
“Yeah. And the fact that we’re so far from town. The stars are brighter, the air feels cleaner, and the noises here are soothing instead of grating.”
“So when I bring you back next year, you won’t fight me on it?”
“Next year?” She raises her eyebrows playfully.
“I’m pretty sure my family will disown me if I don’t bring you home from now on.”
“I guess you’d better, then…”
“I guess I will, then.” Lacing our fingers, I give hers a squeeze before letting go to put the car in drive. Willa reaches for my hand again, and we settle on the armrest.
Driving back through downtown, I feel lighter than I did when we arrived.
This place still holds some painful memories for me, but watching Willa’s wide-eyed joy as we pass by snow-covered parks and trees alight with all sorts of LEDs is worth it.
Her smile strikes a spark inside me, illuminating so brightly it forces the harrowing memories into the shadows.
I park in front of the library, and as we stroll down Main, my ghosts seem to be chased away by the sound of her laughter.
Her excitement makes it easier to ignore my history a couple of blocks away.
For the first time in a long time, I’m alright being here.
Camera bolted to her face, Willa crouches, bends, and climbs just to get her shot.
Her unbridled passion is mesmerizing. I try to stifle the dopey smile on my face every time she looks at me, but it’s useless.
This woman is becoming someone special to me, and not just because she’s carrying my child.
The person she is, her intelligence, the soft empathy she holds—my heart is well on its way to making room for her.
An oasis. A spot that’s solely hers. What would a life with Willa look like ?
One where she opens up completely—lets me care for the most sensitive parts of her.
A life where we’re together, in all ways, for all time.
“Trev?”
“Yep. Yeah?”
She cocks her head, eyebrows cinched as she assesses me. “I was asking why you don’t like it here. Heritage is beautiful.”
“Ah, yeah. The scenery is great. I guess I just outgrew the place, you know? I needed more than it could offer, and with my early history here, it never really felt like a good place for me, anyway.”
“Maya told me a little about your life before adoption.”
I nod and take a deep breath. I’ve never had the urge to share this part of myself before, but I feel like she’ll keep it safe. “Can I show you something?”
As soon as she nods, I take her hand and lead her down the rest of the block. Then we turn opposite town square to cross the street.
“Where are we going? We have to get back for the movie.” She picks up speed as we hurry down the sidewalk.
“It’ll only take a minute.” My determined steps move in time with my pounding heart, setting the cadence for this traumatic detour.
The red-brick buildings give way to trees after another block.
I finally stop at a rundown apartment complex behind the Quick Mart, right across the street from the conjoined middle and high school.
The streetlight casts a nefarious glow on the decrepit building. “This is where they found us.”
“Wha—” Willa sweeps her eyes back and forth, over broken windows and boarded-up doors. “Where who found who ?”
“This is where I grew up.” Dropping her hand, I stuff mine in my coat pocket.
I’ve never told this to anyone outside of therapy, let alone shown anyone.
But right now, it feels safe to hand this fragile memory to her.
“The night we went into the system, the police found Maya and I huddled together in a closet after a full night of our bio parents drinking and fighting. She was ten, I was three. I don’t know how long we were in there, and don’t remember a lot, but when they helped us, the apartment was unrecognizable.
” Fragmented images flash in my mind, but I push past the dread settling in my gut.
I want her to know . “I just remember glass crunching under my slippers and a lot of blood. So much blood .”
She touches my arm lightly, and I start. “Whose?”
“Bio dad’s mostly. My birth mom stabbed him in the leg with a mirror shard after getting tossed around all day.”
“And he…?”
“Nope. The bastard’s still alive and kickin’. Nebraska State Pen, last I heard.”
“And your mom?”
“Oh, she’s in prison too. She got out when I was a teenager, long enough to get pregnant with Eli, and got herself locked up again. They were both young and had a lot of issues. Had no business having a kid, let alone two.”
Willa slips her hand into my pocket, her fingers curling around mine.
My deep inhale does nothing to rid myself of the memories, not with the menacing building in front of me.
Dropping my eyes to the ground, I take another shaky breath.
The sound of the glass crunching under my feet was so distinct; I’ve never been able to forget.
I glance back at Willa, but she’s looking past me, toward the schools across the street. The sympathy on her face hardens into realization. “You had to walk past this place every day,” she says.
I nod. “Couldn’t forget it if I wanted to. I could see my worst day through my English classroom window for a solid five years.”
“No wonder you hate it here. I’d hate it too,” she says softly, and the change in her tone has me searching her face. She swings her camera behind her and pulls me into a hug. Her palms smooth over my back, easing the tension settled there. “Thank you for bringing me here, Trevor.”
I hold her tightly, closing my eyes to stop the visual assault that comes from looking at this building.
Willa’s touch is a balm, each pass of her hands soothing the deep fissures etched into my psyche.
I had no hesitation about showing this messy part of myself to her.
As we embrace in the rundown parking lot, I have no second thoughts. Willa can have all of me.
Barn Movie Night has always been one of the best family traditions.
Gathering all of my favorite people around the space heater.
The projector playing a Christmas classic on the wall.
Snow falling just beyond the barn doors.
What’s not to love? Having Willa snuggled next to me, a blanket draped over our shoulders, is icing on the cake this year.
“Do you need anything? Snacks? Water?” I ask her.
She shakes her head and wiggles her fingers in between mine.
“Just this.” Her smile knocks the wind out of me.
Something in these past few days has shifted with Willa, and even though I don’t want to rush anything, my mind reels at the possibilities.
Everyone else laughs at the movie, but I’m fixated on the gentle caress of her thumb, the heat exchanged between her skin and mine, and the way my stomach flutters at her giggle.
My family has kept us so busy, I haven’t been able to get a repeat of that kiss.
The demand to get her alone screams inside my head.
I’m about to suggest a walk when her phone vibrates.
“It’s Ash. I’ll be right back.” She drops my hand, and it feels like she disconnected a power source.
“Here.” I stand with her, wrapping the striped wool around her. “Take the blanket.”
She rolls her eyes, that same smile from earlier sucking all the air from my lungs.
“We’ll go in with you. The girls are spent,” Maya says, holding Holland over her shoulder. Ben balances the twins on each of his as he follows behind. I watch until they turn out of the barn, a beat too long based on the handful of popcorn Eli throws at me.
“Boo, you giant! Down in front!”