55. Trevor
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
TREVOR
A pparently, massive Utah snowstorms in May aren’t completely unheard of.
We had to end the training a couple of hours early due to the approaching storm.
Getting from the office, back to the hotel, and then to the airport was such a headache.
All the ride share apps were canceling on us left and right like we were problematic celebrities.
Once we made it to the airport, any extra time we would have gained from leaving the training early was eaten up by waiting for available drivers.
Hunter
Just saw about the storm. Your flight still on?
Me
As far as I know. How is she?
Hunter
Bruh, she’s grumpy as hell.
Me
Bro…
Hunter
She’s okay. Still at home. Contractions are tearing up her back, but they’re not consistent.
Shit . My worst fucking nightmare is unfolding in front of me, and I can’t do a damn thing about it. I promised her I wouldn’t miss this, promised I’d be there for her every step of the way. It’s eating me up inside that I’m failing at the one thing I told her to count on.
Miles, Marla, and I get through security and rush down the terminal, only to find a huge uproar at our gate.
“Sorry, folks. We’ll have hotel vouchers at the desk, but all flights are grounded as of five minutes ago.”
Fuck . This isn’t happening. There’s no fucking way this is real life right now.
“Well”—Miles claps my shoulder—“guess we’re here another night…”
I turn to my colleagues, and my rage makes both Marla and Miles take a step back.
“Fuck this shit.” Hitching my bag on my shoulder, I stalk back the way we came.
Hurried footsteps follow me, and Marla grabs my wrist. “Trevor, where are you?—?”
“I’m renting a car!”
“You can’t drive in this.”
“I’m from Nebraska, Marla.” I rip my arm out of her grasp. “You think I don’t know how to drive in the damn snow?”
“The storm’s due to stop by morning. We’ll get one of the first flights out.” Miles tries to appeal to my logic.
“I don’t have that kind of time. I shouldn’t even fucking be here, Miles!
Willa’s in labor. I have to get to LA, and the more time I waste standing here talking to you two, the angrier I get.
” Turning around, I stomp through the terminal.
The singular thought in my head propelling me forward is getting to Willa, no matter what it takes.
I convince the rental desk that I’m aware of the liabilities of driving in the storm, pay the outrageous insurance fees, and finally settle into an SUV.
This feels like the first breath I’ve been able to take all day.
Early labor with first babies can take days.
I remember this from all the documentaries Maya made me watch growing up.
There’s still a chance I can make it in time.
I reach for my phone and press Hunter’s contact info.
As soon as the call connects, I hear Willa groaning, and it punches me in the gut.
We’re supposed to do this together . I need to get to her .
“Heyyy,” Ashlie’s voice makes me pull my phone back to look at the number I just called.
“Hey, so my flight got canceled.”
“Shit. Trev?—”
“I know. I just rented a car, and I’m on my way. It’ll be about twelve hours with the storm. Can I talk to her?”
“I don’t know that she’ll do much talking, but I’ll put the phone up to her ear.”
Another wail, and everything inside me crumbles. Panic shreds through my composure. I hit the steering wheel, trying to expel some of my frustration. This is my fucking fault .
“Tre…” Willa’s shaky voice rattles through me.
“I don’t think I can—” Another whine interrupts her sentence.
“ I need you .” Her voice breaks, and an avalanche of guilt collapses in on me.
This incredibly strong woman of mine is telling me she needs me, for maybe the first time since all of this began, and I’m not fucking there.
“I—Willa, listen to me, okay? I’m on my way. I’m driving, but I’m coming straight to you. Ashlie’s going to keep me updated. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I love you, Gem.”
“Always will?” she asks tearfully, just tearing what’s left of my heart to shreds.
“Al—” My voice cracks, eyes burning. “Always.”
“Hey, Trev,” Ashlie says. “You on the road yet?”
“As soon as I hang up. Keep me posted, Ashlie, about everything. Contractions, water breaking, when you leave for the hospital. I’ll have my phone hooked up to the car system. I need to know everything.”
“Of course. Drive safe, okay?”
I nod like she can see me, and the line goes dead in the middle of another groan from Willa. After hooking up my playlist, I set the GPS and barrel through the worst of the raging storm. It’s bad out here, but the skills ingrained from growing up in the Midwest winters are like muscle memory.
By the time I’ve reached the halfway point, my body’s stiff, and my mind is in shambles.
Ashlie just let me know that they’re taking Willa to the hospital after laboring at home for six hours.
I feel like the worst kind of failure right now.
It’s not healthy to think like this, but driving through a pitch-black snowflake vortex for hours has given my mind way too much freedom to wallow in the guilt eating me up inside.
I’ve already crossed into Nevada, and while the snow cleared a while ago, I still have six more hours on the road, at least.
Every single time I’ve had to stop for gas, food, or the bathroom, I’ve rushed in and out to get back on the road as fast as possible. My mind is focused on getting home, in between the berating thoughts screaming louder in my head with each update from Ashlie.
It’s just after one in the morning when I stop in Vegas to fill up and stretch my legs.
When I walk into the convenience store, I come face-to-face with a wall full of stuffed animals wearing Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas shirts.
The slot machine flashing rapidly in the corner briefly distracts me from my relentless mental battle.
I’m about to be a dad . An actual father to a living, breathing person.
My eyes land right on a pink giraffe, and I smile as Willa’s amused scowl appears in my head.
You’re going to spoil her . My breath stutters as I reach for it, and I’m suddenly frozen next to the energy drink stand.
This is really happening . The anticipation for the last nine months is about to be realized, and while I’m up for the challenge, I don’t know that I’ve stopped to think about how much everything’s about to change.
I don’t get a chance to think about it now, either, because my phone rings in my pocket.
Seeing Willa’s name flash across the screen drops me back into a panic.
I press the little green phone, and before I can say a word, Willa’s going in on me. “I hate you so much right now, Trevor Jones!” She makes a low whine, akin to something caught in a trap, and my heart shatters.
“Gem—”
“I’m not done. I hate you so much”—she says through what sounds like gritted teeth—“I’m making you sleep on our hard-ass couch for a week.”
“Willa—”
“They want to shove a needle as long as your fucking arm in my back, Trevor! They want to impale me to make the pain go away, and the only thing I can think about are the stupid dimples on your stupid, handsome face.”
I chuckle despite the anguish twisting my insides. “So, you finally admit I’m handsome…”
“Yeah, and I”—she screeches, and I pull the phone from my ear with a grimace—“I hate that most of all.’
“I love you, Willa.”
“Alway— ughhh .” Her voice trembles, and I swallow back the thick coil of emotion in my throat so I don’t break down in the middle of this convenience store.
Ashlie comes on the line, talking so fast my feet match her cadence as I head to the register.
Willa’s only at five centimeters, but she’s so exhausted, they want to give an epidural so she can rest. I set the giraffe and an energy drink on the counter, pressing my phone against my shoulder as I reach for my wallet.
The clerk watches me like I just hopped out of a UFO. I’m sure I look a wreck.
Back on the road, hope sparks in my chest at the four-hour mark.
I might actually make it . Three hours left, and I’m a little worried I haven’t heard anything from the hospital.
Between Hunter and Ashlie, I’ve been updated every hour or two, but it’s been hours since I left the convenience store.
No calls. No texts. I reach over to the radio display and pull up Ashlie’s number.
It rings for the longest eternity before going to voicemail, and I hang up and try Hunter.
Same thing. Thirty minutes later, I’m cussing as I toggle between calling the two people with the only information on my wife.
Shit . Not my wife . She feels like my wife though, in every way that matters.
Fuck . I drag a hand down my face and pin my eyes to the road.
There’s no time to unpack any of that right now.
By the time I get to the hospital parking lot, I’m a motherfucking mess.
My stagnant muscles are screaming as I park the car.
I grab my phone and the pink giraffe, and despite the exhaustion settled into my body, I run.
The elevator takes two seconds too long, so I sprint up the three flights of stairs to the maternity floor.
When I reach the nurses’ station, they look at me like the madman I feel like inside.
“Willa Willis?” My breath comes out in heaving waves. I gulp as I take in the bubblegum pink strip of paint across the white walls.
“You are…?”
“Trevor Jones. I’m the?—”
“Dad!” A short nurse with graying coils peeks around her computer, smiling. “Willa will be so relieved. Room 315.”
I nod, skipping the pleasantries as my adrenaline sends me rushing down the hall.
Room 309 . A monitor beeps rapidly behind the closed door.
Room 311 . I narrowly miss a nurse rushing into the chaos.
Room 313 . A baby wails, filling me with dread.
Room 315 . I bust through the door, hoping to hear screaming, crying, anything . But no.
Silence.
My eyes sweep the darkened room, landing on a sleeping Willa, still very much pregnant. Ashlie’s snoring lightly, lying across the bench under the window with her head in Hunter’s lap. He’s sitting up, head slumped back against the wall, knocked out.
With a relieved sigh, I close the door quietly behind me, and the click of the latch makes my last thread of composure snap.
Tears stream down my face, relief mixed with mental and physical fatigue.
I slump against the door, covering my mouth with my hand to stifle the ridiculous noises ripping out of my throat. I made it . I didn’t miss everything .
“Sweetheart, are you crying?” The amused lilt in Willa’s voice makes me pop my head up.
Wiping my eyes with an emotion-filled chuckle, I nod quickly. “Yeah. I’m just—thank you for still being pregnant.” I shuffle over to her, and she homes in on the stuffed animal in my hand. “I couldn’t help it,” I explain, sticking it on the table next to her hospital bed.
“You were about to be in so much trouble…” The IVs dangle from her hands as she holds her arms out to me, welcoming me home.
She ’ s my home . I lean down and interlace my lips with hers.
Every shattered piece of me knits back together as I dust kisses on the swell of her cheekbones, the tip of her nose, her lips.
This silent apology is all I can muster right now, and she accepts it, clinging to me.
“I didn’t think I’d make it,” I whisper, choking back emotion as her soft fingers caress my cheek. “I thought I was going to miss it all.”
“I know you, Tre.” Tears glisten in her eyes, and she shakes her head with a smile. “You wouldn’t miss this.”
“Not for the fucking world, Gem.” I kiss her again, and she clutches to me as if she’s scared I’ll evaporate through her fingers. I’ll never leave her side again . “Let’s meet our little sweet pea.”