8. Trent
Trent
Mid-January
My apartment didn't feel like mine anymore.
It felt like a holding cell. A stale, quiet box filled with half-empty coffee mugs, unopened mail, and the stifling weight of my own thoughts.
I had barely made it through the last ten days.
I went to work, moved through my day on autopilot, and came straight back here to sit on the edge of my couch, staring at the phone that was taking every ounce of my willpower not to use.
A guttural, constant ache hollowed me out, carved clean from the inside.
The front door unlocked, and Gideon walked in without knocking, holding a bag of takeout in one hand and a six-pack in the other. He took one look at me, sitting on the couch in the same grey sweatpants I’d worn for forty-eight hours, surrounded by darkness, and let out a heavy sigh.
"You look like shit, Trent," he said, tossing the bag onto the coffee table.
"Thanks," I rasped, my throat raw. I stood up, grabbing my truck keys off the counter. "I’m going to her place."
"No, you're not." Gideon moved into the doorway, blocking it with his broad frame. "Sit back down."
"Gid, move," I said, a desperate edge sharpening my voice. "I just need her to listen to me. I need five minutes. If I can just explain..."
"Brother, you need to leave her alone," Gideon interrupted, his voice dropping into a hard unfamiliar register.
"You tried to see her at the arena three days ago, remember? One of the hockey players physically backed you out of the hallway into the parking lot. You’re making a scene for her at work.
Is that what you want? To humiliate her even more? "
I flinched, the memory assaulting me. I squeezed my eyes shut, my jaw clenching so hard my teeth ached. "No," I breathed, dropping my head. "No. God, no. The last thing I want to do is hurt her."
I tossed the keys back onto the counter and sank back down, raking my calloused hands roughly over my face, attempting to wipe away the intrusive thoughts.
Gideon pulled out a dining chair, turned it around, and sat across from me. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Look at me, Trent."
I pulled my hands down, meeting my twin's steady gaze.
"I need to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me," Gideon softened his tone.
"If it was the kid that had you spiralling...
there isn't one. The baby doesn't exist. So why can't you let this go?
Is it just guilt? Are you just torturing yourself because you hurt her and feel bad? "
"No," I snapped, the answer tearing out of my chest before he even finished the sentence. "No, it's not guilt!"
"Then what is it?"
"It was her," I choked out, my eyes burning as the truth flooded my chest, bright and hot.
"I thought it was the baby, Gid. I told myself I was doing all of it for the baby.
But the more time I spent with her, the more she let down those terrifyingly high walls...
it stopped being about our kid. It was Kat.
All the qualities I thought I saw in our daughter, that strength, that fierce independence, that bright, curious spirit, those weren't hypothetical traits. They were her."
I scrubbed a hand over the thick stubble on my face, my chest heaving.
"Why didn't you just talk to her, man?" Gideon asked, his voice laced with genuine confusion and pity. "Why didn't you just open your mouth and ask her about the test?"
"Because it was like quicksand," I whispered, staring blindly at the floorboards.
"You think you’re doing the right thing, fighting against it, you know, or in my case stepping up and handling it like a man.
And then, every day that passed, every week...
I kept waiting and hoping. I kept waiting for her to throw me a lifeline.
The dream was so real, Gid. The family. Her.
I got completely lost in my head, lost in the plan, lost in trying to do enough to get her to open up to me. "
A bitter, ragged breath escaped me. "If I had taken one single step back, I would have realized she was never acting differently.
She was doing spin classes, eating her normal food, and working long hours.
She never did a single thing I envisioned a pregnant woman doing.
But I wanted that future so badly... I wanted her. "
My voice cracked, tears finally overflowing and tracking down my face.
"Her laugh," I breathed, my heart aching so violently I could barely draw air.
"The way she's so sure and strong and smart, but when it's just the two of us, she's so soft.
So fragile underneath it all. I just wanted to take care of her.
At first it was because I thought she was carrying my kid, but the more I took care of her, the more she opened up.
The morning I proposed... when she dropped to her knees on the floor and told me she loved me...
" I swallowed hard, a sob catching in my throat.
"It was the best day of my life. My heart almost burst out of my chest. But then I let my mind go dark.
I let the paranoia take over. Instead of seeing what we actually had right in front of us, I was so obsessed with the future in my head that I completely missed the reality.
I love her, Gid. I fucked up, and then when I tried to fix it, I didn't explain myself properly because I was terrified of losing her and I panicked.
But I love her. I love her so much it's tearing me apart. "
Gideon sat there for a long time, watching me break down, his own jaw set tight. He reached out, grabbing a beer from the pack on the table, popping the cap off, and sliding it into my hand.
He leaned back, letting out a slow breath.
"Alright," Gideon said, his tone shifting from stern to fiercely resolute. "So, what do we do? How are we getting your Kitty Kat back?"