15. This Is Mine
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THIS IS MINE
Two Months Ago (one month into Aniyah’s break)
Trevor thought for a second before speaking, “At first? It was everything. We were young and naive. Our little girl was the center of our world. I was working and going to school then coming home and taking over the night shift with my daughter. I should’ve been exhausted, but I felt like the Energizer Bunny . ”
He laughed to himself at the thought.
“Then…things started to shift. Zara got older and Katelyn and I grew apart. I’ve tried to wrap my head around how I could’ve saved things. When I should’ve stepped in. But then that would mean admitting I was a side character in my own marriage.”
Dr. Goodwin tilted her head slightly, studying him, “What would it mean to admit that?”
Trevor exhaled slowly, his hands clasping and unclasping in his lap. “That would mean that I missed it. That I was so focused on being a good father, a provider…that I didn’t see my marriage falling apart in real time. Or maybe I did see it and just…kept choosing to believe it would fix itself.”
He shifted in his seat, jaw tightening. “Now I’m stuck with those thoughts on a loop because it’s like—how do I trust my judgment again? How do I know I won’t miss something like that with Aniyah? ”
There it was, the truth seeping through his lips that he had been afraid to admit.
“Tell me about her,” Dr. Goodwin stated.
Trevor’s expression softened despite himself, as it did whenever a thought of Aniyah popped into his mind. He had missed her something terrible this past month.
“She’s…beautiful, inside and out. She has such a big heart and loves the children she teaches. She’s a poet. She’s built this life for herself that’s so peaceful that I fear I may disrupt it. She took a break from me and I agreed without a fight.” He swallowed. “I think that’s what scares me.”
“Why?”
“Because if I mess that up…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “It would be as if I didn’t learn anything from my marriage and I don’t want that to be the case.”
Dr. Goodwin nodded, her voice calm, “So the anxiety you’re carrying—it’s not just about your ex-wife.”
Trevor let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Nah, if it was just about that it would be too easy.”
“It sounds like some of your anxiety and anger is directed at yourself,” she continued. “You didn’t see your marriage's dissolution in time and didn’t act quick enough. You also don’t want to shake up Aniyah’s life either.”
Trevor leaned back, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah…that sounds about right.”
“Aniyah pausing things,” Dr. Goodwin added gently, “Held that mirror back up to your face.”
Trevor stared at the floor for a moment, then nodded once, slowly, “Yes, it did.”
“So what do I do with that?” he asked, quieter now.
Dr. Goodwin offered a small, reassuring smile. “We start by separating what belongs to your past from what’s actually happening in your present. And then,” she paused, jotting down a note, “we figure out how to give yourself permission to move forward without carrying all of it with you.”
He began seeing her once a week and it was the best thing he could’ve done because his shoulders didn’t feel as heavy…If he wanted to be the father that Zara deserved, this was a necessary step.
Present Time
Trevor’s plane touched down at JFK just as the sun was setting.
He stayed seated for a moment after the seatbelt sign blinked off, watching the cabin lights brighten while passengers reached for their bags and stretched stiff limbs.
The familiar hum of the airport seeped through the walls of the plane—engines winding down, ground crew shouting faintly somewhere on the tarmac.
Normally he would already be halfway up the aisle, moving with the practiced efficiency of someone who spent too much time in airports.
Tonight he stayed still.
Three months.
Three months since that night in Aniyah’s condo when everything inside him cracked open and spilled through the wrong door.
Three months of dealing with he and Zara’s new normal. To be honest, it was needed. That time alone with just he and Zara helped him reconnect to the pieces of himself that he lost when Katelyn left.
The docuseries had swallowed most of his daylight hours.
Editing sessions that bled past midnight.
Producers who kept trying to shave the soul out of the project so it could fit neatly into a marketable box.
The premiere was set for July now, which meant every decision carried weight.
Every scene, every voice, every story he fought to keep intact had to survive the final cut.
Then there was Zara.
Trevor smiled faintly as he finally stood and pulled his bag from the overhead bin.
His daughter had been thriving, despite her world being shaken to its core with the loss of her mother.
Dr. Sanders helped her find her footing again, but Trevor knew the classroom had done something deeper.
Watching Zara grow comfortable in that space—laughing more, raising her hand in class, running into the building each morning without hesitation—had become one of the quiet victories he carried through every long day.
Aniyah had been right there at the center of it.
Even when she wasn’t.
The distance between them hadn’t been full silence.
If anything, they talked more now than they ever had before.
Morning texts. Late-night calls when exhaustion softened both their voices.
Random messages in the middle of the day about something Zara said or some ridiculous thing Marcus did in the editing room.
They just hadn’t been together…in that way, since their first time. Trevor was in withdrawals. He missed the feeling of her body against his. The taste of her on his tongue. The smell of her vanilla body butter. Most importantly, he just missed her .
Every Saturday he saw her it took everything in him not to pull her body close to his.
All that would change tonight. While he was away, he mustered up the courage to ask her on a date. Aniyah responded yes without any hesitation and Trevor felt like singing.
Trevor stepped into the cool night air outside the terminal and pulled his phone from his pocket.
Her name sat right where it always did, in his favorites.
He hit call.
Aniyah answered on the second ring.
“Hey you,” she said, her voice warm enough to pull a quiet smile across his face.
“I just landed.”
“I figured you were close. Was the flight okay?”
“It was long,” he said, shifting his bag onto his shoulder as he moved toward the curb. “But worth it.”
She was quiet for a moment, and Trevor could almost hear the smile forming on the other end of the line.
“So… we still on for tonight?”
Trevor leaned against the side of the car he’d called, watching headlights drift past along the road.
“We’re absolutely on for tonight.”
Another pause followed, softer this time.
“Good,” Aniyah said quietly.
Trevor exhaled slowly, the tension that had lived in his chest for weeks loosening just a little.
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“I’ll be ready.”
The line clicked off, but Trevor stayed there for another moment before sliding into the car.
Tonight was the night.
Trevor knocked on Aniyah’s door, the sun had disappeared completely, leaving the quiet street outside her condo washed in the soft glow of porch lights and passing headlights.
The evening air still held a hint of spring warmth, but Trevor barely noticed it.
His mind had been rehearsing versions of this moment the entire drive over—what he would say, how he would say it, the careful balance between honesty and restraint he’d promised himself he would keep.
All of it vanished the second the door opened.
Aniyah stood there framed by the warm light spilling from inside the condo, and for a moment Trevor forgot how language worked.
She looked so fucking good…
Her hair fell softly around her shoulders, the loose waves catching the light in a way that made the deep brown of her skin glow. She wore something simple—nothing dramatic—but the sight of her after three months of distance hit him square in the chest anyway.
“Hey,” she said.
Trevor stepped inside slowly, shaking his head like his brain needed a second to catch up with what his eyes were seeing.
“Hey.”
The door clicked shut behind him, and suddenly the small entryway felt quieter than it should have.
Three months of space sat between them in that hallway, invisible but undeniable.
Trevor had imagined this moment more times than he could count, but standing here now with her only a few feet away felt different than any version he’d rehearsed.
Aniyah studied him for a second before a soft laugh slipped out of her.
“You gonna say something,” she asked, tilting her head slightly, “or just stand there looking at me like that all night?”
Trevor stepped closer before he could overthink it. The scent of her perfume reached him then, familiar enough to stir something low and steady in his chest .
“I missed you.”
The words left his mouth before he had time to measure them.
Aniyah’s expression softened immediately, the teasing in her eyes giving way to longing.
“I missed you too.”
The tension in Trevor’s shoulders eased a fraction, the distance of the last three months shifting into something that no longer felt quite so wide.
He leaned down and kissed her, a moan immediately left Aniyah’s mouth as her body sagged into his. Trevor knew at that moment that she needed this just as much as him. They made out against her door without a care in the world. That reconnection was exactly what he needed.
Finally, Trevor backed away from Aniyah, her eyes found him and the need he saw reflected there was his undoing.
“Baby,” he began. “We have to go or we’ll be late for our reservation.” His eyes swept over her body taking in the black dress she was wearing that hugged her curves, something serious.