Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
PAIGE
Trevor didn’t come back. Not the way I half expected him to.
I did, however, get multiple emails from him throughout the morning.
He casually moves to emails when a phone is not an option.
Part of me wants to block him, throw my phone out the second-floor window.
Hell, from the roof. Maybe go to the river or the lake the county over, row to the middle of the—never mind.
I don’t have the emotional or mental capacity, much less the physical fortitude, for that kind of effort.
I managed to fall asleep after he left, but it wasn’t a resilience thing. It was a first-trimester-of-pregnancy thing.
I scratch my head—I have to take a shower—and flip through my go-to movies, but nothing sounds good.
My e-reader is packed full of stories I’ve started and stopped, and I had to move my uneaten healthy food out of the way for my chips and ice cream.
Taking another scoop of salted caramel ice cream, I sniffle.
Dammit. Don’t think about it.
I have to think about it. The logistics, at the very least.
“Trevor cheated on me. My husband cheated on me.” How much of his story do I believe? How do I decide how much is too much, where I need to break apart my already minuscule family?
The sweet and salty combo of my treat works to soothe some of my ache to an extent, but this is a gaping wound. This treat is a Band-Aid.
“Trevor! Why!” I throw my spoon at the wall and scream at the top of my lungs. Again, a Band-Aid.
Why didn’t he listen to me? Why did he let this woman so close? Why did he prioritize everything before his own chosen family? I tilt my head back against the couch and groan. Even if what he said was true, does that make everything suddenly okay?
At first, a ping on my phone makes me believe that Trevor is messaging me again, but when I glance to make sure, my eyes widen at the time.
“Shit.”
Beth
We’re on our way.
One look at the mess of my home, and I know my wallowing is done. I have to clean, shower, and put on the best act of my career as a mother. Jacob doesn’t need to know anything until I know something.
The bell rings as I’m pulling on my leggings, so I hop and tug to rush the job and hurry to the door.
A tired but smiling Jacob greets me, giving me a huge hug the moment he sees me.
Part of my heart smooths over with that one embrace.
After squirming in my arms until I release him, he takes off, the sounds of his elephant feet following him up the stairs.
“Bye, Aunt Beth!” is closely followed by him shutting the door.
Bethany has a fond smile on her face, but when I step out of the way to let her in the door, her face is wiped clear of expression, and she doesn’t move.
“Um, Trevor isn’t here, so …” I never know how to approach her when it comes to their relationship.
“I dropped him off at Billy’s early this morning.” She opens her mouth to say more, but then she snaps it shut.
My heart sinks at that news, but chances are he sent that information to me in one of the five messages I’ve received so far today.
“Can you come in? I think we have some things we need to talk about.” I reach out to her, but she flinches away from me. I blanch at the move. “Um, sorry.” We stand awkwardly for a second, but she finally steps in, carefully avoiding making contact with me, and I try not to let it hurt my feelings.
I fail. I’m being a baby.
“Go ahead and make yourself comfortable in the living room. I’ll grab some snacks and drinks.”
Bethany follows my instructions without a word, sitting in the same chair Trevor sat in only hours ago. A place she has never sat. What did you do, Trevor?
I pile some food onto a tray—cheese, meats, fruits, veggies, and dips. There’s a jug of sweet tea as well, so I pour a glass for each of us. Pleased with the spread, I grab two small plates, napkins, and lemon wedges and wander into the living room.
Bethany is sitting up straight as a debutante, the years of living with her mother evident in her perfect posture.
I place the drink and goodies on the side table and look at my seating options.
Everything is across the room. One look back at Bethany and the sadness she’s trying to disguise, and I make a split decision.
I sit on the floor by her feet.
She startles at the move. I can see that I’ve surprised her. What gratifies me most is the twitching in her cheeks. The movement gives away the humor she’s attempting, and failing, to hide. I beam at her, proud of my results, and she laughs her deep, raspy laugh.
“Oh, Paige. What a mess.” She runs her fingers under each eye, likely checking for tears.
Bethany appears very stringent and composed, but she’s all emotions.
I hesitate to broach the subject when she seems to be relaxing a little.
Snatching my tea, I help myself to a few healthy swallows and mmm at the flavor.
An echoing sound comes from Bethany. When I open my eyes, she’s already looking at me. “He told me.”
My breath leaves me, and relief hits. “That’s good. Good.” Well. “Okay, it’s not good. It’s awful, and terrible, and … Maybe you should fill me in.” She opens her mouth, but I shoot my hand out. “Wait, first. I am so sorry.”
“I’m so sorry.”
We both say it at the same time, so we both shut up and raise our brows at one another. It’s probably my exhaustion and frayed emotions, and I’m sure it’s the same for her when we both burst into laughter.
“Oh my God. Am I a monster for laughing right now?” She gasps between giggles.
“I’m the same type of monster if that’s true, so you’re fine,” I barely manage to choke out in response. Our slightly maniacal laughter slows and quiets until we sit together in a newly comfortable silence.
“You didn’t know until last night?”
I don’t have to ask what she means. I know it. “No, I didn’t. I swear to you.”
She nods and looks out the window behind me. “He just found out too? Trevor did?”
I nod this time. As far as I know, that’s the truth.
Her shoulders slump, and her hair falls to cover her features.
I reach out and tuck a strand behind her ear.
Her eyes meet mine, and the look she gives me breaks my heart.
She looks so sad. “I’m shocked he told me, honestly.
No. Don’t say anything for a minute, okay?
” I dip my head in agreement, and she continues.
“Our parents had made it a game, I think, while we were growing up. Trying to pit us against each other. Only, I never wanted what he had, and I watched enough to know when they were lying.” Her chest rises and falls with a deep breath.
“We were both so young, and they were so hard on Trevor, on me. However, they realized early with me that I wasn’t going to reach their expectations, so that became their ammunition—reminding me that I wouldn’t accomplish anything.
” She takes a small sip of her drink. “Trevor, though.” Her eyes drop to the tea in her hand, and she takes another slower sip before looking back up.
Not at me, but through me, to her memories.
“Trevor was always going to hit those expectations and more. That was their weapon for him. Always expecting more and more and more, but giving him so little in return. Their favorite way to disappoint him … was with me.”
When she pauses long enough, I nudge her knee. “What do you mean?”
“Like … He would want to go somewhere with a group of friends, but would need supervision. Instead of telling him they couldn’t be bothered, they’d say something like ’Sorry, Trevor, Bethany doesn’t want to go, so we can’t today.
’” She scoffs. “Thing is, I would have loved to do all of those things he wanted to do. It was constant, though. They didn’t think we’d know they were playing this game, but I knew because I saw it in action. ”
A sound from upstairs reminds me of my boy, who would probably love some of this spread. “I am not done talking, but I think my boy would love some of this, don’t you think?”
“Totally. Let me help.” Bethany heads to the kitchen to grab a plate, and I decide to give him my glass of tea.
“I’ll just take these to him, and we’ll get right back to it, alright?”
“Sounds good. I’ll eat some of it too.”
“Knock, knock.” I push open his door and see my boy sitting up in his bed, a book in his hands. His little face is screwed up in concentration, but there’s something wrong with the picture. “Um, honey. The book is upside down.”
Jacob doesn’t say anything when he flips the book right-side-up. He continues to stare at it with furrowed brows. I step closer and take a quick scan of his room. “Oh, bud. You have got to clean your room.”
“Dad said he’d help me.”
“Hmm …” His eyes are fixed and unmoving on the book. I place my hand on it and lower it to get a better read of his face. I uncover his red eyes. He doesn’t want me to know he’s been crying. Crap. I clear my throat. “So, tell me, kid. How was your Aunt Beth visit?”
“It was fine.” He picks at his fingernail, and I let it slide.
“Can you tell me about it?” His eyes finally meet mine, and I feel like I was just punched in the heart. His little face looks anguished. “Oh, buddy.” I reach my hand out again, this time grabbing his. “Did something happen?”
His jaw tenses as his eyes get suspiciously shiny. “No.”
“Jacob Whitaker. I need you to be honest with me here. What happened last night?”
He huffs. “Mom, it’s not a big deal. Promise, okay?”
“Tell me.”
“Gosh. Okay, fine.” He places the book on his lap and folds his hands on top of it.
I ignore their trembling. “I heard them. My—Dad’s parents.
” His eyes drift over my head to the door, and his face falls further.
I turn around to see Bethany, a look of concern on her face.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Beth. I know you told me to stay in your rooms, but I got—I got—I got—” His voice rises in pitch as he fights to get the words out.