Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
PAIGE
Before I left Trevor’s apartment, slightly embarrassed by my freakout, slightly turned on, and wholly confused, I got a good look at some of the other legal pads scattered around.
It was Trevor’s repentance tour, planned out to the letter.
Once I returned home, I spent the remainder of the day debating, then planning.
I came up with one repeating idea. I want Trevor to come home. His temporary living arrangement was a testament to his focus. He didn’t know I was coming over. He didn’t have time to plant evidence. He’s living the evidence.
So, I have a plan. And after the way last night went, that plan will include reconnecting physically and emotionally. I want him.
The school board meeting for Becky’s dismissal went flawlessly, and after I dropped Vicky and Sonya off back to their homes, I rushed back, took the world’s fastest shower, and started dinner.
By the time the bell rings and Jacob runs to the door, I have worked myself up into an anxiety-ridden sweat.
Trevor’s voice is subdued when he walks through the door.
I can barely hear him greet our child, and as I stand at the stove, it makes me ache for what used to be.
Part of me still anticipates him crowding me into the stove, but instead, he stands on the other side of the island, hands clasped in front of him.
So unsure. “Do you want to come try a bite and let me know if I should add anything?” Trevor nods and swiftly rounds the island, drawing close to my side.
“Open wide.” I lift the spoon up to him, and he takes a bite.
My eyes lock on his lips, and I glide my tongue across mine.
His eyes follow the movement. “Jesus, Paige. What are you doing?”
“Dad! Come here! I have a new game I want you to play with me!”
Trevor blinks at me, running his thumb across his bottom lip before a wicked grin lights up his face. “Alright, kid, let me talk to your mom about dinner real quick. Load it up.” He leans into me and whispers, “Are you teasing me, Paige Whitaker?”
I bite my lip and shake my head, then pull away from him, flushed from my head to my toes. I’m in trouble.
Trevor snickers, then swaggers away, a new confidence in his walk that makes another twisted part of my heart loosen.
We all settled in for a family movie, and Jacob fell asleep snuggled up to his dad.
“I’m going to tuck him in,” Trevor whispers to us, lifting our son with ease. Bethany and I nod, but she stands up suddenly.
“Actually, I’m going to go to bed and watch a movie with my headphones on.” She races up the steps before the boys, leaving me in the living room on my own.
“Slick, Bethany,” I mumble, before folding and putting away the sofa throws and blankets, then heading into the dining room to start cleaning up our dishes from dinner. A familiar body brushes past mine to help load up the dirty dishes and leftovers, and together we bring it all into the kitchen.
“I’ll wipe down the table and then put away the leftovers.” I nod, suddenly nervous and unsure.
He’s back before I can reorganize my muddled mind. Damn.
“So, you said that you wanted to ask me some questions?” He sidles up next to me, taking position with a towel.
“Yeah.” I stare at the dishes in my hands, cleaning the same spot over and over again before he reaches over and snatches it from me, rinsing and drying it. I sigh and pick up a new one. “I-I know now that it wasn’t you and Krista in your car, but telling my brain to shut off …”
“If I hadn’t taken her in the first place, you wouldn’t even have to worry. If I had listened to you, to what you said in this room—”
I nod because it’s true. “But you didn’t.”
Trevor shakes his head. “I regret it. Every day. Even while it was happening, I was regretting it and imagining I was with you at home, watching the fireworks.”
“That was dumb of you.”
He snorts. “Yeah. I hope we can agree that the entire night was really fucking dumb of me.” We’re both silent until he speaks up.
“I grew comfortable being in her space while working with her, and she would adjust my tie, flick things off my shirt, give me a reassuring or warning squeeze on my arm when my father was near. Small, easy touches that I reciprocated casually.”
I pause my motions and close my eyes, feeling the words dig into my heart with claws. “So it was easy to be with her.”
“Yeah. It was. But I never—how do I explain this? I never wanted her beyond at the office as a friend from work. I know the term emotional affair is used in these situations a lot, but I feel like it wasn’t quite so cozy or even emotional as all that. I didn’t want her.”
I bob my head and hand him a new dish. “I think of it as where you make an attachment with a person who is not your significant other and give them things that you should be giving to your spouse or partner.” I pause, feeling suddenly guilty.
“I believe that is what Carri assumed was happening between Josh and me.”
Trevor grunts. “Do you feel that way?”
I shake my head. “I cried once, and he comforted me. There were also casual touches, but it wasn’t anything special to Josh.
I’m a casual toucher in general. You are not.
I also didn’t give him my worries, my emotions, my thoughts and feelings.
You did. You gave those things to her.” My voice cuts out on that last accusation.
“You’re right.” He takes the cutting board, dries it, and this time, walks away to put it in the cabinet.
I’m right. “Have you ever—uh—” I start scrubbing a butcher’s knife next. “Pictured her while you—Um …”
“While I what, Paige?” I look at him while he’s reaching into the cabinet. His hair is longer than his usual meticulous maintenance, so it sticks up a little in an admittedly sexy way. He looks over and locks eyes with me. I jerk my head back to what I’m doing.
“Oh, shit. Ouch.” My pointer finger burns and immediately swells up with blood. I pop it into my mouth to try and keep it from making a bloody mess on what we’ve already cleaned. I can’t believe I—
Trevor is here in a heartbeat, materializing from across the kitchen.
His hands latch onto me, strong but gentle, as he pulls me away from the sink.
“What happened?” He has me lodged between him and the counter as his concerned eyes dart between mine, then drop to where I shoved my finger into my mouth.
They narrow, and he gently coaxes my hand out.
I release my finger with a pop, and when my cut is exposed, he hisses between his teeth.
“Oh, honey.” He reaches over me and starts fiddling with the faucet, leaning into me as he does so, until he makes a satisfied grunt.
Then he guides me from my place nestled between his thighs to face the sink.
He pulls my hand to sit under the cold running water, making me flinch.
“Oh, shush. It’ll feel better than hot water.
Now, don’t move.” I stand still, and he grabs our first aid kit. I grumble, but he cuts me off.
“No. I know what you’re going to say, but this is not just for Jacob.
It’s for the house. Now, let me take care of you.
” He doesn’t look at me while digging for the supplies, making a small pile on top of the counter.
When he’s done, I watch as his shoulders rise and fall, as if he’s taking a deep breath to prepare for …
something. When he turns back to me, his face is neutral.
“Okay, we’re going to dry off your cut. I’m going to see how deep it is, and then we are going to decide if it’s worth a hospital visit—”
“Hospital! What in the world—”
He continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “Or if it’s something that we can take care of here and now.”
I grumble, but acquiesce. He pulls my hand carefully from the stream of water and up to his face to inspect more closely. I suck in a breath when he blows on it, making my skin prickle. “It’s not a burn!” I jerk my hand, but he ignores me, again. “Trevor.”
He nods to himself or to me. “It’s not too bad.
” He pops my finger into his mouth and sucks, sending a jolt through my entire body.
His eyes go wide as saucers as he stares at me, pulling my finger back out.
“Shit, shit. I’m so—I wasn’t thinking.” Color rises along the ridges of his cheeks, and I can’t stop my grin at his embarrassment.
It’s adorable. He puts my hand back under the faucet and turns the water back on, checking the temperature before going back into the kit.
“I—sorry. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” Not in the way you mean.
“I—it—you—shit.” He sighs, meeting my amused gaze. “I fell into old habits. I’m sorry I crossed a line.”
“You had your hand around my throat, telling me you wanted to suck on my leaky tits just yesterday.”
If possible, his eyes grow wider, and his blush grows darker. “I did do that, didn’t I?” He jerks his attention from me and clears his throat, but I don’t miss his eyes dipping to my—admittedly engorged breasts.
I nod wordlessly, considering him as he starts to bandage my tiny cut with extreme care. I’ve always loved the way he takes care of me. “I liked it.” I squeeze my legs together and tamp down the shiver.
Trevor drops the bandaid, cussing as he bends over to grab it. “Uh, yeah. It was—you were good. Great. Perfect.” His fingers tense around mine before loosening again.
“Are you going to answer my question?”
“Hmm?” He finishes with the Blue’s Clues Band-Aid, but he doesn’t let me go.
“About Krista?”
“What the fuck about her?” He growls, squeezing my fingers again, only slightly, but enough to make me wince. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. Jesus, I’m an idiot.” He drops my hand like it’s burning him and takes a few steps back, taking my air with him.
“Stop, wait.” He freezes with his hands raised. “I hate when you call yourself names. And I’m talking about, picturing Krista at any point while you—um—” I look to the ceiling for guidance.
“While I what?” I groan and make a vague gesture with my hand.
He watches me, a hint of humor followed swiftly by devastation.
“Oh, hell no.” He crowds me in a second, nose to nose.
“I love you, I want you, only ever you.” Trevor tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and searches my eyes, then grips my chin.
“I hope you know that there is nobody in this world I could or would ever want the way that I want you, wife.” He turns my face and brushes a kiss against the side of my head before turning it back and brushing a kiss on the edge of my lips.
Then he steps back, leaving me unsteady.
“I never wanted to hurt you.” His voice is a broken whisper, and the pain in it is unmistakable.
“I know that.”
He searches my eyes and nods. “I think it’s best that I leave now.
I keep hurting you, and I just—I should go.
” He reaches for me, out of habit or desperation, I’m not sure anymore, but curls his arms back to his sides.
“I’ll see you later.” He turns to exit, taking a few steps from me, but pain and a certainty that this is wrong fill me at the sight of him walking away.
I don’t fight the urge to chase him and wrap around him from behind, securing my arms tightly around his middle.
He releases a long breath and folds his arms over my own, clasping my hands.
“Stay.” I whisper it into his back, and his body goes rigid.
“What?” He spins around and takes a step away from me. “What did you say?”
“I want you to come home. I want to heal with you here. Maybe not in our bed or not overnight. Not yet. But I want you here with your family. With me.”