Chapter Three
Camille
“I’ve seen that look before, kiddo,” Jim said, crossing the living room before sitting in his recliner. He took a sip of his iced tea. “Have you talked to Trent?”
“What look?” I asked with a forced smile.
He pointed at me. “That one. Liis is visiting Abby for the weekend. They’re both expecting. America’s due any day. You and Trent have been trying for a baby for a long time.”
“What makes you think we’re still trying?”
Jim looked at me over his readers. “Because you didn’t want the cheese puffs I offered you, and you love those things.”
I relaxed back against the couch. “They’re so good.”
“I’m proud of you, sis. You’ve stuck with it. And the way you feel is perfectly understandable. It’d be frustrating for anyone.
“I’d never begrudge you grandbabies, Dad.”
“Of course not. I know you love the kids. You just want one of your own. Nothing wrong with that.”
I wiped away an errant tear from my cheek. Jim always said the right thing at the right time. That’s why I was there.
“And Liis… well that’s for Tommy to work out. But Abby, I think that needs a conversation. She’s a sweet girl. You can help her understand.”
“We have talked. Years ago.”
Jim shot me a look, knowing I was holding back.
“I don’t know how else to show her, and everyone, that there’s nothing there between Thomas and me. I know that not ending things with Thomas right away was wrong, but I really didn’t mean to fall in love with Trent, not that I regret it. He’s the love of my life. But there’s just this… tension. I can understand Liis still having feelings about it… but even though she said she has, I can’t help but feel like Abby’s never really forgiven me. I’m at a loss on how to fix it. I think that Trenton forgiving me so quickly made it worse. She’s mad at me for him.”
“I see,” Jim said, thinking as he nodded. “Well, maybe that’s not it. Trent said you went over there yesterday, and it was weird between the three of you.”
“Forced. All smiles and small talk.”
“But it’s not always like that.”
“No.”
“So, why yesterday?”
“I don’t know,” I said, thinking. “They were in the middle of something. Papers all over the table. Liis gathered them up when I got there. I wasn’t planning on looking at them or anything. Maybe it’s just me being paranoid, but it did feel like she was protecting whatever it was.”
“So, a secret.”
I thought about that. “Maybe they’re planning something for Thomas or Trav?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m here!” Olive said, letting her backpack fall to the floor. “Where’s the cheese puffs? I’m starving.”
Jim chuckled and pointed to the kitchen. “Where they always are, squirt.”
Olive dumped some into a bowl and then trudged into the living room, plopping down on the floor next to Jim.
Olive was just five when I met her, and now she talked about scholarship essays and senior trips. She still had that long, beautiful platinum hair and enormous green eyes with long, dark lashes—and she was still the light of Trenton’s life.
“Don’t eat too many,” I said. “We’re leaving for Chicken Joe’s as soon as Trent gets here.”
“Is he working late?” Olive asked, frowning. “Aren’t you usually the last to leave?”
“He’s helping Madison Davis with something at her new apartment. Curtains or… something.”
“Madison Davis? Mackenzie’s little sister?” Jim asked, surprised.
“The very one.”
Olive made a face. “She was a senior when I was in eighth grade. Not a fan.”
“Oh, really?” I asked. “How did you know her when you were at the junior high?”
Olive made a face. “She used to ask me about Trent all the time. It was weird.”
Before I could string together a complete thought, Olive continued.
“I don’t care who she is. We’re his favorites and we have dinner plans. He better not be late for Chicken Joe’s. It’s sacred.” She popped another cheese ball into her mouth and crunched it loudly.
“I’m sure he—” I began, but the door burst open.
“I’m here! I’m not late!” Trenton said, slamming the door behind him. He seemed out of breath.
Olive stood. “You’re late, and I know this because I was late, and I got here before you.”
“I hurried. I wasn’t going to miss Chicken Joe’s night with my girls! You crazy?”
Olive tried not to smile. “Did you run here? You look sweaty.”
Trenton glanced at me. “I had to put up curtains. And then a broom organizer, put together a credenza with instructions that were all in Chinese.”
“Oh,” I said.
“But I’m here and we’re going!” Trenton said. “Are we goin’? Let’s go!” He looked to me. “We can take the truck. I can bring you by to pick up your vehicle tomorrow.”
I made a face. “Do we have to?”
“Yes,” he said, pecking my cheek. “I wanna ride with my girls.”
Olive walked over to him and nudged him with her elbow. He grabbed her and squeezed her tight while she playfully groaned, pretending to hate it.
“Madison put you to work,” I said.
“Yeah, when I was done with one thing, she realized there was something else. We got all caught up, though. Do you know a Dayton Wells?”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” I said, looking to Jim.
Jim shook his head.
We all looked to Olive, who shrugged. “I’ve heard of him, but he’s older than me. He was kind of a bully from the few things I’ve heard. I didn’t know they were a thing. I thought Maddie was dating Avery’s brother.”
“Yeah, well, apparently the Dayton kid’s her ex. A real abusive jack ass. I hope I don’t run into him anytime soon.”
Olive glanced at me, and I looked to Jim, and then back to Trenton. “Sounds like you got all the tea. We should get a move on; Olive was hungry when she got here and I’ve chosen three hundred and forty-two times not to eat the cheeseballs she’s been chomping on.”
“Wait,” Trenton said, checking his pockets. “I don’t think I have quarters.”
Olive rolled her eyes. “I’m not a baby anymore.”
“Oh, yeah!” Trenton said, nudging her with his shoulder.
She shoved him back, and we all waved goodbye to Jim.
Olive was her usual talkative self on the way to the restaurant, filling us in on all the high school drama we’d apparently missed that week. She vented about her entrepreneur project and launched into a detailed rant about Lily Grayson’s prom committee coup, leaving no opinion unsaid.
She wasn’t finished by the time we parked, or when we were seated. Trenton listened to her intently, asking questions at the right time. As Olive spoke, Trenton smiled at her like she was the most fascinating person he’d ever met, saying the most profound things he’d ever heard. Olive was brilliant, funny, and exceptionally beautiful. I’d never been so invested in watching someone grow into a young adult, to see how far her big personality, smarts, and charm would take her. Olive also had a unique relationship with Taylor and Falyn. Every time they came into town, they gravitated toward her, wanting to know every detail they’d missed since their last visit. It was wild seeing Falyn and Olive together; they could pass for mother and daughter, and sometimes I’d catch Olive making the same faces or doing the same mannerisms as Falyn. Now that it was Olive’s final year of high school, Falyn seemed to be even more invested, and they visited more often for some of Olive’s senior events.
“Ew, you wanna hit the pinball machine?” Trenton asked, wiping his face with a napkin.
I watched Olive, wondering if that would be the time she’d break Trenton’s heart and tell him to stop calling her that. Olive’s last name was Olivier, her initials were what spawned the nickname Trenton had given her, but she was a young lady now. I told Trenton years before that one day she would hate it.
I was wrong. Olive only smiled. “Sure, if you want to suffer the humiliation of defeat.”
“We’ll see,” Trenton said, chasing her out of the booth.
Olive giggled as they raced to the pinball machine, stopping a server on the way over to trade dollars for change. He plunked several quarters in and stepped aside for Olive to start what would be no less than a twenty-minute competition.
Trenton’s cell phone vibrated, shimmying just a few inches from the table’s edge. I picked it up to move it, noticing Madison’s name on the notification. I set it down on its face and rested my chin in my hands, watching my husband throw his head back and cackle like a kid at something Olive had said.
His phone buzzed again. Don’t do it, Cami.
I did it anyway. The phone lit up as I turned it over, and a string of texts populated the screen when I touched her name. She’d been texting Trenton all day, asking questions, talking about nothing, complaining about how much there was to do in the new apartment, and persuading him to come help. Toward the end of his workday, she texted more, clearly excited for him to come.
The latest message made me pause.
Hey! Thank you so, so much for helping today.
Sorry if I sort of took advantage of you being there,
but tbh I also didn’t really want you to leave. It was
so good to talk to you about everything. And I’m
sorry for being weird. If you have a free minute this
weekend, can you stop by? I finally feel like I have
someone to talk about things with. Someone who
understands. :)
I glanced up at Trenton, who was cheering on Olive. They were both all smiles, having the time of their lives. It wouldn’t be out of character for Trenton to befriend a young girl. He was everyone’s favorite uncle. When we met, his best friend was a five-year-old. And Madison had a point. They’d both lost Mackenzie in a traumatic way, and that was something they’d always share. Trenton had mentioned Mackenzie’s parents had blamed him for her death, so maybe that’s why it had taken so long for Madison to reach out.
I was going to assume the best. I had no reason not to.
Trenton and Olive returned to the table, laughing and out of breath. We ordered pie, of course, and then took her home. Once Trenton returned from walking her to the door and chatting with Shane and Liza, he hopped behind the steering wheel of his truck and leaned over the console, planting a big kiss on my mouth.
“You taste like pie,” I said with a smile.
“You taste like my wife.” Every time he said the word, there was almost a twinkle in his eye. He put the truck in gear and then grabbed my hand as we drove away.
“You need to text Maddie back, by the way. She texted you while you and Olive were playing.”
“Damn, again? She’s a sweet girl, but she’s wearing me out. She wanted to hear everything I remembered about the accident. And I mean I get it, but it’s mentally exhausting, ya know?”
I nodded.
“I just didn’t expect to ever have to deep dive into that subject again. But I feel bad for her. I want her to be okay. I’m just glad she doesn’t hate me, I guess.”
“She shouldn’t hate you. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Her parents hate me.”
“Still?”
“Maddie doesn’t want them knowing she’s talking to me, so that’s my guess.”
I winced before I said my next words. “Do you think… do you think it’s a good idea, you spending time with her, if her parents are against it?”
“I just helped her this once. Let her get it all out of her system. I doubt I’ll see her again.”
“She asked you to come over again in her text.”
“She did?” he asked, genuinely confused. “Why?”
“I’m sorry. It kept buzzing and I got curious.”
“Babe, you know I don’t care. Why does she want me to come over?”
“She said she felt like you were the only one she could talk to about it.”
“Damn,” he said, cringing. “I’m conflicted. I can’t keep re-living it over and over. Maybe once she gets it out of her system, she’ll feel better, and we can both move on. But, yeah, you’re right. It’s not okay to keep hanging out with her if her parents are against it.”
“Not that she’s a child, but it’s a complicated situation. And you’re not a licensed therapist.”
“No shit,” he said, chuckling. He looked at me and kissed my hand. “But I get it, ya know… the difference between talking to someone about a traumatic experience and talking to someone who understands is the difference between a ditch and the Grand Canyon. I have that with you. You just get me. You understand where I’m coming from, about everything. I can understand her needing to reach out to someone who understands on a different level than everyone else. I just hope she doesn’t think it’ll be forever. Because, like you said, there are professionals for that.”
“And it’s not mentally healthy for you to have to keep revisiting that night.”
His grin faded. “No.” He sighed. “No, it’s not. I still have nightmares sometimes.”
“You do? You’ve never said anything.”
“Because it’s creepy. It’s like a mix of both accidents, you and Kenzie. It’s her car. That night. But when I look at her body, it’s never her face. It’s always yours. Wearing what you were wearing the night of our accident. It’s the kind of shit that makes me afraid to fall asleep.”
“Why haven’t you talked to me about it?”
“I haven’t had one in over a year.” He winced as he said the next words, “And you’ve felt guilty enough. I didn’t want to trigger those feelings again.”
I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been like torture. But know that you can talk to me. You should talk to me. About anything. Even if it might bring up feelings for me. We do everything together, right?”
He kissed my hand again. “I know.” After a few moments, he chuckled. “Did you see Olive’s face when she won? That little tootie doodle dootz. She looked like a crazy warrior princess, screaming mean, shaking her fists in the air.”
I laughed. Trenton could always change the subject seamlessly. I didn’t mind, he’d had Mackenzie’s death on his mind for the last two days, having to relive it in conversation with Madison. He deserved a distraction.
The truck bounced as it pulled into the drive, and we waited in silence as the garage door whirred on its way up. Trenton parked and jogged around my side to open the door.
“You know what’s weird?” he asked as he helped me step down onto the concrete floor. “I miss puttin’ Olive in her booster seat.”
“You hated that thing.”
“I know. She was just so little then. She’s like… a real kid now. She puts on her own seat belt. I don’t even know when the last time was that I put her down after carrying her.” He blinked. “Now that’s fuckin’ sad. I’m gonna cry myself to sleep tonight.”
“Aw, Twent,” I said, hugging him to my side.
“C’mon, don’t do that to me!” he said, pretending to cry.
He went straight to the shower, and after connecting my phone to the charger and putting my purse on the desk, I undressed and joined him. I pressed my cheek against his wet back and closed my eyes.
“Mrs. Maddox,” Trenton said, crossing his arms over mine.
Trying for a baby had turned sex into a business. It had been too long since we’d just been spontaneous. Even longer since I’d initiated on impulse.
I let him go to grab the soap, lathered the suds in my hand, and then reached down, taking his already stiffening dick into my hand. My fingers and palm glided over his skin, and he leaned his head back and moaned.
“I fucking love you,” he said. He was leaning back against me, his body so relaxed I didn’t know how he was standing.
It didn’t take long for him to turn around, take my cheeks into his hands, and press his lips against mine. I could no longer remember what it was like to kiss anyone else, but when Trenton’s tongue slipped inside my mouth, it felt like the first time. The hot water sputtered off his back and shoulders as he planted small kisses from my jaw to my collarbone, his hands leaving my face so he could wrap both arms tightly around me. We stayed that way for half a minute, his head buried in the crook of my neck, and then he spun me around, pressing my hands flat against the glass. He pulled me against him by the hips, but before he slid himself inside, he reached down between my legs, sliding his fingers between the apex of my thighs.
I bit my lip, his touch so familiar, moving exactly the way I liked, slow but firm, things he’d done from the beginning—and things he’d learned along the way. While one hand was busy between my thighs, he took the other and slowly guided himself inside of me. He eased his way in, and then once he was fully sheathed, he stopped, his forehead pressed against the base of my neck.
His fingers were still working, though, and his stillness made me desperately arch my back, giving him more room, begging him to go even deeper. He pulled away just a few inches, and then groaned when he rocked into me again. His free hand grabbed my wrist, keeping me pinned against the glass, and although I could feel him trying to hold back, each thrust made it more difficult.
The combination of his fingers and the perfect spot his dick always managed to hit finally made my cheeks flush, my insides tense, and then it took over my entire body. Wave after wave, spasm after spasm, I cried out. As quickly as it engulfed me, it faded, but Trenton’s grip on my hips tightened. The water dripping down our skin amplified the sound of my ass slapping against his thighs, and he let out a faltering breath, the one that let me know he was on the edge. For a second, he paused, and then pulled my hips into him again. His muscles tensed, he held his breath for just a few seconds before letting out a groan and several choice words, his body trembling as he came.
I was breathing hard, hands still flat on the glass, face down as the water dripped from the tip of my nose. Trenton, his forehead pressed against my shoulder, was trying to catch his breath, too.
“Damn, baby,” he said, pressing his lips against my skin.
“Me? That was all you,” I said, smiling as I turned to face him.
Trenton winked. “Your ole man’s still got it.”
I ran my hand over his bulging shoulder muscles, his pecs, and then over the peaks and valleys of his abs. “Yes. He. Does.”
When I accidentally let my hands fall too low, he instinctively jerked back, and then closed one eye tight. “Still sensitive.”
I giggled and then reached for the shampoo.
“Uh uh,” he said, lightly pushing my hand away.
He turned me around again, slowly working the shampoo through my hair, rinsing it, and then doing the same with the conditioner. After that, he massaged every inch of my skin with soap, kneeling on one knee to wash my feet. When he was finished, he kissed my nose, and then smiled at me as I stepped out and dried off with a towel.
“Best husband ever,” I said.
He popped his head out. “Can you say it a little louder? I can’t quite hear you with the water running.”
“Best husband ever!” I said just before giving him a quick peck on the mouth.
Trenton in his boxer briefs, me in one of his old T-shirts, settled in to sleep. After a long, mentally taxing day and amazing shower sex, Trenton was breathing deep, borderline snoring five minutes after his head hit the pillow. As I was just dozing off, his phone buzzed.
I rolled my eyes. Unless it was a family emergency, there was only one person I could think of who would be texting Trenton this late.
I raised my head, squinting to see the small words on his lit screen.
Madison.
Curious what she had to say this late at night, I picked up his phone and read her message.
Hey you :) Just getting ready to crash
and was thinking about the other night. I’m
sure you know what I’m talking about.
Sitting in my apartment, laughing so hard.
I feel like an idiot. Anyway, hope you
have a good night. Thanks again for
today.
I understand if it’s too hard or too
weird for us to be friends. You don’t
have to text me back. Take care 3
I set the phone back flat and settled back against Trenton’s chest, trying not to overthink it. But something felt off. I closed my eyes, trying to push away any speculation, the what ifs, the suspicious thoughts. At the end of the day, it wouldn’t matter if her intentions weren’t exactly pure. Trenton loved me, and just as importantly, he respected me and our marriage. He didn’t even care if I checked his phone.
After multiple reassurances, I finally let myself drift off to sleep.
“No! Goddamn it, no! Don’t you fucking leave me, Cami!” Trenton cried, shaking me awake.
“Whoa! Whoa!” I said, holding up my hands.
Once I was fully conscious, I saw Trenton lean back to sit on his haunches, his eyes wide. He shook his head, and then wiped the tears from his cheek and chin. After a few faltering breaths, he covered his face.
“Baby, Jesus Christ. Are you okay?” I said, sitting up on my knees to hug him.
He buried his head in my chest and threw his arms around me, grabbing my T-shirt with both fists.
He sniffed once. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine, Trent. Talk to me.”
“It was so fucking real,” he said, his face crumbling.
“You had the dream again.”
He let go of me and sat up, shaking his head. “No,” he wiped his eyes again. “No, that was a fucking nightmare.”
“The same one you were telling me about?”
He stood, rubbing the back of his neck, trying not to cry. “I can’t go back to sleep. I don’t wanna see that again. I can’t feel like that again.”
“Okay,” I said, crawling toward him. “We’ll… watch a movie.”
He looked down at me, and then his bottom lip trembled. “You’re okay.” He took a deep breath, exhaled, and then nodded. “You’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” I said, reaching out to hug him. “I’m safe. You’re safe. But… Madison is going to have to find someone else to talk to. You,” I shook my head, “it can’t be you. It’s too traumatizing.”
He crawled back in bed beside me, and I reached for the remote, turning on the TV. Trenton pulled me next to him, holding me tight.
“I’m okay,” I said.
“You’re okay.” He heaved a sigh, relaxed his grip, and then rested his cheek against my hair.