38. Epilogue
Trent
I ’ve been back living with Emily and Amir for four weeks.
While the shop is gradually getting back to pre-arrest business, it’s not there yet.
Once a week, I’m seeing Amber, which Grady is still paying for.
As much as it hurts my pride to have Grady pay for the sessions, I’m keeping track of the cost, and I intend to pay him back.
No matter what, I’m not stopping, because I can recognize how much of a difference it’s making for me and for my relationship with Emily.
Before, I kept a lot of it inside, happy to help her with her tough days, but unable to give her the same trust. Now, I don’t hesitate as much to share my bad days with her.
I didn’t think it would be possible for me to be happier, to be more content than I was before the arrest, but it turns out openness and honesty—knowing exactly where you stand with someone—breeds more positives.
“Trent,” Emily calls from the bottom of the stairs. “We’re going to be late for the rehearsal dinner.”
“Sorry!” I call down, grabbing my belt and looping it through my pants as I hustle down the stairs.
Technically, there’s no rehearsal, but Maggie and Grady decided they wanted a pre-wedding dinner with everyone involved in the wedding.
Which is good, because I had a last-minute client show up when we were closing.
Em’s been really patient with my hours, since I’ve been trying not to turn away anyone willing to give my shop a chance. But that means sometimes I’m running a bit late for things.
I kiss her temple when I reach the kitchen, and I give Amir a high five. Then I take in Emily’s dress—a new pale green one—and I can’t help thinking about where it’s going to land later.
“Hey, Em,” I say when she’s grabbing her purse off the table.
She glances back at me.
“Have I told you today that I love you?”
“You’ve told her like a million times,” Amir says with a huff.
“Hey, you know I love you too, little buddy,” I say.
“You love everyone.” Amir throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion.
“But I love you two the most.” I ruffle his hair.
Emily wraps her arm around my waist and leans into me. “I’ll never get tired of hearing it,” she says to me. “Don’t listen to him.”
I kiss the top of her head, and we climb into my truck together.
On the way to the restaurant, I hold Em’s hand in mine.
There’s still a little part of me that rears up sometimes.
Tries to tell me I don’t deserve this. That someday she’ll realize she could do better.
But then I just remind myself of all the ways Emily shows me I’m enough.
All the ways I’m working to be the best version of myself.
At the restaurant, everyone is already there, mingling. We say “hello” to Pasha as we pass him at the front door.
Inside, I go to the bar to get Em some water, Amir some chocolate milk, and a beer for me. When I see who else is at the bar, I hesitate for a beat, but I can’t avoid her forever.
“Lila,” I say, when I step up beside her.
“Trent,” she says, and then she turns toward me. “Guess we’re stuck together tomorrow.”
“For part of it, at least. You going to be okay?”
“I meant to talk to you, but I’ve been embarrassed to do it.” She faces the bar again, avoiding eye contact. “I was too hard on you about what did or didn’t happen between us.”
“And I apologize too,” I say, “for not taking what happened seriously enough. For not understanding that your feelings might not be the same as mine.”
Then she rotates to face me, the drink that was just delivered in her hand. She scans me, and then she smiles. “I cannot believe you’re the same guy from two years ago.”
I let out a little laugh in response, and then I order my drinks with the bartender. “At the risk of hearing something I don’t want, why’s that?”
“I’m not going to be mean,” Lila says. “You just seem so settled, but lighter. I don’t know how else to describe it. You were fun and flirty, but some part of you felt held back. And I think that’s what I was reaching for. But I was never the one meant to unlock that. I can see that now.”
“Emily tells me you’re engaged,” I say as two of my drinks slide onto the counter in front of me. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she says. “Meeting Henry made me totally realize why you and I weren’t a good fit. He and I just make sense.” She glances over my shoulder. “Like you and Emily. I’m really happy for you both. She deserves it, and so do you.”
Her statement doesn’t make me draw back, and I try to let those words land instead of slide off me. “That means a lot,” I say, my voice rough.
“I’m just glad I can say it and mean it. That we’re all back in a good place.”
“Do you still have any connections to the theater in Utica?” I ask. An idea has been half-formed in my brain the last few weeks.
“I know how to book it, if that’s what you mean,” she says.
“Is it expensive?” I ask.
“Trent Castillo, are you planning to strip again?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “No, but I have something I want to do there. Thirty minutes to an hour, tops.”
“You and…”
“One other person.”
A slow grin spreads across Lila’s face. “I spent a lot of time on the phone with the woman who does the booking. Assuming she remembers me, I’ll see what I can do. Leave it with me.”
“Thanks,” I say, and then I juggle to get all three drinks into my hands. “And Lila?”
She smiles.
“I’m glad we’re okay again.”
“Me too,” she says.
To pull this off, I utilized all my resources. Kelvin was here fifteen minutes ago, and he got the screen set up with everything I needed. Grady came and did a sound check, and Mia loaned me Pasha to get Emily here right on time.
I’ve got thirty minutes of free use before another group comes in to set up some sort of theater performance that’ll be running in this building for weeks.
I’m not sure how Lila talked them into giving me access for free, but my bank account is grateful.
It took a hit a few weeks ago when Maggie went shopping with me.
“Hello?” Emily calls out from the edge of the audience.
“Over here,” I call.
“What are you doing here? This has been the weirdest day. Pasha came to pick me up, and for the first time in forever, the English he was speaking made no sense. But I got in the car.”
“I’m glad you did,” I say. “This seat right here is reserved for you.”
“What is going on?” she asks, but she’s laughing. “Trent, are you going to strip for me?”
“Why does everyone think I’m going to take off my clothes?”
She eyes me.
“Fair. I take them off a lot with you. But not today. Or at least, not right this moment.”
I gesture to the seat in the front row, and she sits down. I sit beside her, and then the screen lights up.
“Since we watch so many movies, I made one for you,” I say.
“What?” She lets out another little laugh of disbelief. “What even is my life right now?”
But then she sees the first image. It’s a selfie of her and me from the Small-Town Saviors show, and her breath audibly catches.
Then it’s my voiceover, ’cause I didn’t want to fuck this up.
“We’d been hanging out for a while before the show, but this was the night that I fell in love with you, I just didn’t realize it then.
We were standing on the side of the stage, and I said something—I don’t even remember what—and it made you laugh.
It had been such a sad, emotional time that when I looked over at you laughing, something just clicked for me.
Like a puzzle piece slotting into place.
From that moment on, there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. ”
And then more photos and videos play of the year we spent together—raising Amir, doing silly things together. They all came off my camera roll or hers. I emailed myself stuff when she wasn’t paying attention.
It freezes again on a photo of the two of us from New Year’s Eve.
“It wasn’t until you asked me to be the father of your child that part of me thought maybe it might be possible to have something else, something even better with you.
I didn’t really know what that was, what it looked like, or even if I could handle it, but I knew I wanted it.
I wanted to grab onto it with both hands and never let go. ”
Then it starts up again, more photos and videos of things we’d done together in the months after that, when we were living together—and though I didn’t admit it at the time—being a family.
“And then, when we lost our footing.” There’s a photo of my shop with police tape. “You never gave up on me, on us, and I’m so fucking grateful you gave me a second chance because now this gets to be my life.”
More photos and videos play from when we got back together to just the other day. It freezes on the selfie I took of Em, Amir, and me in the living room on the couch when we were watching a kids’ movie together.
I turn to her in the seat, and she’s crying, tears streaming down her face. She’s on the verge of the ugly cry face she hates to make but that has become so frequent during her pregnancy.
“I brought you back to the place where I first knew I loved you to tell you that I want to love you forever.” I get down on one knee, and I pop open the box.
She covers her face, and she cries. Instead of waiting for an answer, I tug her out of her seat and into my arms. Accepting the ring is a formality. I know she’ll say “yes.” That we’re doing life together forever. The thing she needs most right now isn’t a ring, it’s a hug.
She clutches onto me, and she says, “It’s a...It’s a…” She turns her face to the side so her ear is pressed against my heart. “Yes. Yes.”
“I love you, Em, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you know that, you feel that, for the rest of our lives together.”
When she steps back, I slide the ring onto her finger, and she brushes away her tears.
Taking her hand, I lead her out into the lobby where we’re met with more people than I expect—my mom, Em’s mom, Maggie, Grady, Tyler, Mia, Victoria, Pasha, Kelvin, and Brett, and scooting out of the crowd, is Amir.
“Mom, did you say yes?” he asks, his eagerness clear.
“I did,” she says, her voice still watery with emotion.
“Yes!” Amir cries, raising his fist in the air. “A brother or sister and a dad. This is like—it’s like the best day ever.”
He runs toward us, and I crouch down, catching him up into my arms. I set him on my hip, and Em leans into my side as I put my other arm around her, and the three of us—soon to be four—are ready to face the future together.
It’s a future I never expected for myself, and I’ll always be grateful I managed to heal in time to grasp it.