64. Chapter 64
Cate
Present
The coffee had gone cold before I realized I hadn’t taken a sip.
I sat by the window, hands wrapped around the mug more for the warmth than the caffeine, watching people pass by on the sidewalk like I wasn’t part of them anymore.
Everyone moved with purpose - phones pressed to their ears, bags slung over their shoulders, conversations spilling out in pieces I couldn’t hear.
Life went on…
My phone lay face-down on the table between my elbows. Silent now. The call with Marshal still echoed in my head.
I pressed my lips together and stared out at the street.
Trevor loved me.
That part wasn’t in question.
He’d been there when I couldn’t get out of bed. When I couldn’t eat. When the quiet after John disappeared became something sharp enough to cut me open if I let it linger too long. Trevor had stepped in and made decisions when I couldn’t, had handled details I didn’t have the strength to touch.
He hadn’t forced himself into my life.
I’d leaned into him.
People didn’t understand that part. They liked to imagine villains as sudden things - men who arrived with warning labels and red flags waving from the start. But Trevor had always been gentle. Patient. Solid.
A hand at my back when I felt like I might fold in on myself.
A voice that said, I’ve got this, when everything else felt unmanageable.
I wrapped my fingers tighter around the mug.
He wouldn’t hurt me.
And he wouldn’t have hurt John.
That thought settled in my chest with surprising strength, like it had been waiting for me to say it out loud.
Trevor had loved me for years - quietly, steadily, and without demand. Whatever he’d done today, whatever lines he’d crossed, came from fear. From pressure. From the walls closing in.
Not malice.
Not violence.
And especially not murder.
The door to the café opened, letting in a rush of cool air. I looked up automatically.
Seth.
He spotted me immediately, relief softening his expression as he crossed the room. He didn’t smile. Didn’t rush. Just slid into the chair across from me like he was afraid to spook me.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
I nodded. “I think so.”
He studied me for a moment longer, then glanced at the untouched coffee. “You want a refill?”
“No.” I hesitated, then added, “I want to go home.”
His jaw tightened.
“To Trevor’s,” I clarified. Not defensive. Just honest.
He didn’t answer right away.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said finally.
“I know,” I replied. “But it’s what I want.”
That was the difference now. The thing that felt newly important.
Seth leaned back in his chair, eyes flicking briefly to the window before returning to me. “Do you feel safe?”
“Yes,” I said immediately and without hesitation.
He searched my face, like he was looking for something, some inkling that I wasn’t being honest. I didn’t look away.
After a moment, he nodded. “Okay.”
No argument. No warning. No I told you so waiting in the wings.
Just respect for my wishes.
The drive back was quiet. Not tense exactly, just weighted. The kind of silence that carried too much history to be filled easily. Seth didn’t press me, and I didn’t offer.
When we pulled into the driveway, the house looked the same as it always did - immaculate, composed, lights on like it had been expecting us.
Trevor’s car was still there.
Seth cut the engine and turned to me. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
I nodded. “Thank you. For not trying to decide for me.”
A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “That’s never been my job.”
I opened the door and stepped out into the warm summer air.
Trevor met me before I reached the front steps.
“Cate.” My name left him like an exhale. Relief, plain and unguarded, crossed his face when he saw me standing there on my own. “Thank God.”
He stopped short of touching me, hands hovering like he was waiting for permission.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said immediately. No preamble. No justification. “I crossed a line.”
I stilled.
“I was wrong to speak for you,” he continued, voice low. “Wrong to push. Wrong to assume I knew what you needed better than you did.”
Seth paused a few steps back, giving us space without leaving.
“I’m not trying to control you,” Trevor said. “I was scared. And that’s not an excuse, it’s just the truth.”
I studied his face, looking for tells, cracks, any sign that he was being insincere. I found nothing but love and loyalty.
“I love you,” he added quietly. “And I panicked.”
Something in my chest loosened.
“I need you to hear me,” I said. “I can’t be managed. I can’t be handled like something fragile you’re afraid might break.”
Trevor nodded immediately. “I know. And you’re right.”
“I can handle this,” I continued. “John. The investigation. All of it. I need to do that myself.”
“You can,” he said without hesitation. “And I’ll follow your lead.”
Follow.
The word mattered.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Okay.”
His shoulders relaxed, relief visible now. He stepped closer, careful, and this time I didn’t step away when his hand settled at my waist.
Behind us, Seth cleared his throat softly. “I’m gonna head out.”
I turned. “Thank you.”
He met my eyes, something unspoken passing between us. “Call me if you need me.”