Page 53 of The Tryst

Wade.

Accident.

Dead.

Poor Ethan, the anointed prince of Blackburn who had the responsibility of running the entire farm on his shoulders, was the one who took the responsibility to call me. It never crossed my mind as being weird that Trey didn’t call. In fact, I imagine he was probably incapable of doing much of anything. Givenhow close they were, and the rift between them recently, I could only guess that Trey was a mess.

Ethan told me to come to the house and I pull in too fast, braking hard so I don’t hit Gabe’s Ferrari. I jump out of the car, spring to the double front doors and don’t bother knocking. I lurch into the foyer, head spinning, and take in how utterly quiet it is. No conversation, no crying.

Just… nothing.

I don’t see anyone in the formal room and head for the kitchen, the preferred gathering places for all happy things. In there I find Tommy, Ethan, Marcie, Kat and Gabe sitting at the table. Miranda quietly patters around, putting together food and sniffling back tears. There are coffee cups in front of everyone but no one is drinking, and no one is talking. They all look so devastatingly lost, they seem almost inanimate.

It’s Tommy’s eyes that land on me when I enter. He slowly rises from the table, the man who just lost a son, and moves to embrace me in a warm hug. It’s the first time tears come to my eyes and I let out a forceful sob into his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” I mumble into him.

His hand cups the back of my head for a short time and then he releases me. I look around at who’s not here. “How’s Fi doing?”

“Not well, as you can imagine. She had a bit of an episode at the emergency room and they gave her something to calm her down. She’s mercifully sleeping right now.”

My heart was crushed before but now it tears into tatters as I think of how awful this is for Fi. No parent should lose a child, and I rub my knuckles over my breastbone because I physically ache for her.

I look back to the table, to Ethan and Kat staring blankly at their cups. Gabe has his arm around Kat’s shoulders, but he looks shell-shocked. My gaze goes back to Tommy. “And Trey?”

I didn’t think Tommy could look any more morose for a man who just lost his youngest son, but his face crumples. “He’s on the back patio. Hasn’t said a word since we found out.”

I turn that way, but Tommy grabs my hand to halt me. “Holland… he’s more than just broken up. He thinks this is his fault.”

“But how could it be?” I ask with a frown.

“They got into a big fight about… well, you know what it was. Wade stormed out of the house, Trey went after him. He came upon the scene and…” His words choke off as tears fill his eyes. My hand grips his tightly. “He was there with Wade. Saw him like that. Couldn’t help him. He’s taking all the blame.”

“I’ll fix that,” I say smoothly… resolutely. “He can’t do that to himself.”

“I hope you can make him see that,” Tommy murmurs, squeezing my hand one more time before letting me go. He turns for the table, slumps into a chair and joins the heartbroken silence of the others.

I move through the back den area, out the double French doors to the patio. It’s pitch-black past the patio but tiny solar lights around the perimeter create the silhouette outline of Trey’s form sitting in a low-slung Adirondack chair.

I approach hesitantly, not knowing what I’ll say or even how to act. I sense the tension in the space between us and it feels dark and dangerous.

“Hey, babe,” I say gently, moving to the side of his chair and crouching next to him.

His face is slack, eyes almost dead, and he doesn’t even look at me. Just stares straight ahead, out into the black beyond.

Tears spring to my eyes as I take in the man I love who is hurting so very badly. I rise, grab a wooden footstool that goes to the chair he’s sitting in, and pull it up in between his legs before taking a seat. Trey is cocked back, slumped with his hands on thearmrests. I press my palms onto his knees because he makes no move to touch me, nor does he even look at me, despite the fact I’m in his direct line of sight now.

He looks through me.

“Trey,” I say, my voice hoarse with nerves. “I’m so sorry about Wade. I don’t know the right thing to say, but I want to comfort you.” Dead eyes staring. “I can’t even comprehend how you’re feeling but I imagine very broken right now.” Silence. I squeeze his knees. “I know how much you loved him. I did too, and I’m just heartbroken.”

Trey’s eyes slowly focus in on me, his mouth drawn in a flat line. “I didn’t love him nearly enough. And he hated me.”

My eyebrows knit together. “He did not hate you. Why would you say that?”

“I didn’t say that. He did. And he was right… because I lied to him. I hurt him.”

“No,” I exclaim, gripping his thighs. “You did the best you could at the time, and you apologized.”

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