48. Chapter 48
Cate
Present
Iwoke wrapped in warmth.
Trevor’s arm lay heavy across my waist, his chest solid at my back, his breath slow and even against my shoulder. Morning light filtered in through the curtains, pale and forgiving, and for a few quiet seconds I let myself stay exactly where I was.
Safe.
Grounded.
The lingering haze of the night before settled over me - not regret, not confusion, but a soft ache that felt almost like relief. Like I’d made a choice and survived it. Like I’d reached for something real and it had reached back.
I shifted carefully, not wanting to wake him yet. His arm tightened automatically, pulling me closer, and I smiled despite myself. There was something comforting in that instinct, in being held without asking.
When I finally slipped free, he stirred, eyes blinking open.
“Hey,” he murmured, voice still thick with sleep.
“Hey,” I whispered back.
He smiled, slow and unguarded, and reached for me again, brushing his thumb along my hip. “How do you feel?”
I considered the question longer than it probably deserved.
“Tired,” I said honestly. “But… okay.”
He nodded, like that made sense. Like he’d expected it. “The jet lag’s still not letting go of you, huh?”
“Something like that.”
He kissed my shoulder, then rolled out of bed, already reaching for his slacks. “Stay there. I’ll make coffee.”
I listened to him move through the house - the clink of mugs, the low hum of the machine - and let myself breathe. This was the version of mornings I’d imagined when we were planning the wedding. Quiet. Domestic. Easy.
When he came back, he handed me a mug and leaned against the doorway, watching me take the first sip.
I winced. “I forgot how strong you make it.”
He laughed softly. “You’ll adjust.”
I smiled at that. At the certainty of it.
It was then that the day began to settle into place in my mind. It was Tuesday. I was supposed to return to work today. The routine I’d stepped out of and now had to step back into.
My stomach tightened.
“I don’t think I can go in today,” I said.
Trevor didn’t look surprised. “Because you’re exhausted?”
“And because,” I added, sitting up, “I don’t have anything to wear. All my suits are still at the townhouse.”
He frowned slightly, thinking it through. “You’re right. I completely derailed your day yesterday. You could always go grab them.”
“My car’s still there,” I said, then sighed. “Which means I’d need a ride.”
He set his mug down and crossed the room, sitting beside me on the bed. “Then I’ll take you.”
I hesitated. Not because I didn’t want him to, but because part of me had wanted to do it alone. I pushed that feeling aside.
“I could also just call off,” I said. “Take another day.”
Trevor’s expression softened. “That might not be a bad idea.”
“No?”
He shook his head. “You’ve had a lot on your plate. Even before the wedding.” He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “Work hasn’t exactly been kind to you these last few years. Not since John… disappeared.”
The name still landed heavy, even now. But I didn’t pull away.
“I just haven’t felt the same about it,” I admitted. “Interior design used to feel… exciting. Lately it just feels like another thing I’m forcing myself through.”
He studied me carefully. “Then maybe you don’t force it right now.”
I looked at him. “You mean quit?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I mean pause. Breathe.” A small smile tugged at his mouth. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone anymore.”
I knew what he meant. And I knew what he wasn’t saying.
“You wouldn’t mind?” I asked.
“Cate,” he said gently, “I make more than enough for both of us. You don’t need to carry everything alone.” He brushed a strand of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “Not anymore.”
The words wrapped around me, warm and reassuring. Sweet. Protective.
“I’ll call off,” I said finally. “Just for today.”
He smiled, satisfied but not triumphant. “Good.”
I borrowed his phone and called work, telling them I needed another day. They weren’t exactly happy, but let it go.
We showered together without rushing, shared a quiet breakfast at the counter, his hand resting at the small of my back as if it belonged there. When it came time to leave, he grabbed his keys without asking.
“Let’s take care of the townhouse first,” he said. “Then we’ll figure out the rest.”
As we pulled into the driveway, my chest tightened. The place looked exactly the same - ordinary siding, neat trim, a porch light that didn’t flicker. Like nothing inside it could possibly undo me.
But my body remembered.
Yesterday came back in sharp little flashes. The detective’s calm voice, soda spilling across the tile, Seth saying It’s real this time.
I slowed at the front steps, keys cold in my palm.
Trevor stayed close behind me, his hand hovering at my back like he could steady something fragile without touching it. “I can come in,” he offered, tone easy. “Help you grab what you need.”
I glanced at him. The sweet version. The husband version. The one I’d chosen last night with my eyes closed.
“I… I think I should do it alone,” I said, keeping my voice light. “Just for a minute.”
His smile held. Just barely. “Okay.” He nodded once, like he was filing it away. “I’ll give you space.”
Relief loosened something inside me. “Thank you.”
He leaned in and kissed my forehead, lingering a second longer than necessary. “Call me if you need anything.”
I swallowed. “I will.”
Trevor stepped back onto the porch and pulled his keys from his pocket. “I’m going to swing by the office for a couple hours,” he said, casual again. “Tie up loose ends. Then I’ll come back and we’ll tackle the rest together.”
Together.
“Okay,” I murmured.
He started down the walk, then paused and looked back. “Don’t push yourself,” he said, gentle. Protective. “Remember. You don’t have to prove anything.”
“I know,” I said, and meant it.
His car door shut with a solid click. The engine turned over. Tires crunched softly on the pavement, and then he was gone.
The silence he left behind felt different than the one at the house. Thicker. Older.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside.