CHAPTER 26
TREY
December turned serious.
Senator Grant’s review produced findings.
The media company settled its board dispute.
Trey’s voting-rights case moved toward an emergency hearing.
And somewhere in the middle of all of it, Paula realized she had spent twelve consecutive nights at Trey’s house.
She announced this at 7:02 on a Monday morning.
Anthony and Danielle had reached the stage where everybody except them seemed willing to admit something was happening.
Their exchanges had become too specific to be casual: remembered preferences, private jokes, the slight pause before one of them answered the other.
Trey recognized the pattern because he had once spent years pretending attention was merely intellectual.
“I’m going home.”
Trey looked up from the stove.
“Okay.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t care?”
“I care.”
“You’re not going to ask why?”
“You said you’re going home, not leaving me.”
Paula blinked.
Trey returned to the eggs.
She sat at the island.
“I need my apartment.”
“I know.”
“I need to sleep there.”
“Okay.”
“I need to remember I live there.”
Trey smiled.
“That seems useful.”
Paula threw a napkin.
He laughed.
Then she said, “I’m serious.”
Trey turned off the burner.
“So am I.”
He crossed to her.
“You don’t have to prove independence to me by leaving.”
“I know.”
“And you don’t have to prove love by staying.”
Her face softened.
“Okay.”
He kissed her forehead.
“Go home.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You sound too happy about it.”
“I’m looking forward to having my comforter.”
Paula gasped.
“Rude.”
“You sleep diagonally.”
“I’m petite.”
“You occupy acreage.”
She laughed.
That night Trey slept alone.
He hated it.
He did not text her that.
At eleven thirty Paula texted him.
PAULA: My bed is cold.
TREY: Turn up the heat.
PAULA: You’re useless.
TREY: Good night, PK.
PAULA: I love you.
Trey stared at the screen.
TREY: I love you too.
Then:
PAULA: Still cold.
Trey laughed in the dark.
The next night she stayed home again.
So did he.
Wednesday they met for dinner.
No overnight.
Thursday she used her key and appeared at his house before he did.
Balance was not a fixed point.
It was movement.
That week taught them that closeness did not need constant physical proof.
And distance did not automatically mean danger.