Page 15 of Saving Trinity
After Trinity’s phone call with Officer Wilcox, I laid down with her on the couch, and she took a nap. She was so drained after throwing up and sobbing in my arms. But she’d been so damn brave while making that phone call. So strong. She had no idea how damn proud of her I was for pushing through and facing her fears.
While she’d been asleep, I’d sent out a message into the family group chat, asking if we could do dinner at Dylan’s parents’, and of course, Dylan’s mom, Miranda, replied immediately, telling me yes. This was what Trinity needed—to be surrounded by family. It would recenter her and remind her that she wasn’t alone.
And it would show her that she had more than just me in her corner. This entire family would bend over backward to not only keep her safe, but to love her as well.
She wasn’t alone. She’d never be alone.
“Are you sure they’re okay with me coming?” Trinity asked as I made my way down the long, winding driveway to Miranda and George’s place.
I scoffed and squeezed her hand, which I was holding on the middle console. “You really think Miranda would be upset that you’re visiting? One, she adores the ground Wyatt walks on. And two, she’s always asking about you, wanting to know how you’re doing. When I told her you were here for the foreseeable future, she demanded I bring you to dinner.”
Which wasn’t a lie. Her message, which had been in all caps, had read:
Miranda:
SHE’S IN TOWN AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME? YOU BETTER BRING HER TO DINNER TONIGHT. I’LL GET IN TOUCH WITH THE FAMILY. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU THOUGHT YOU HAD TO ASK TO BRING HER TO DINNER. STUPID BOY. YOU BETTER BE GLAD I LOVE YOU.
“But she has to cook more,” Trinity said, truly sounding concerned about Miranda cooking. Honestly though, Dylan’s mom could easily feed an entire platoon of soldiers without ever breaking a sweat.
“We do Sunday dinner every week anyway,” I assured her. “And there’s always so much food, all three of us guys end up taking leftovers home. I promise, if extra cooking is what you’re worried about, that’s certainly not a problem.”
“She does cook a lot of food,” Wyatt piped up from the backseat. He patted his tummy. “And it’s so yummy!”
Trinity and I both laughed as I made my way around the last sharp curve that would lead up to Dylan’s parents’ place. They lived on a farm just like I did in a double-wide mobile home that had been renovated over the years as Dylan grew up to resemble a regular, single-family home. I’d learned to drive a tractor here, learned how to plow fields, and got all my hands-on training to run my own farm right here at their place.
It was where I’d figured out being an attorney and working in the family law firm would never be something I could be happy with. Stuffy suits, client meetings, and always being indoors? That wasn’t me. I wanted the hard work, the long hours in the sun, and the peace and quiet that came with being a farmer.
Trinity had been here a handful of times after she had Wyatt, usually when I was so busy that taking time to go pick up Wyatt myself would put me behind schedule. And while I never complained about having to go pick him up, Trinity always seemed to know when work was extra demanding, and she would just randomly send me a text that read along the lines of:
I know you’ve got a lot on your plate. I could use a break from here for a couple of days. I’m bringing Wyatt to you.
And that would be that. I’d get the guest bedroom set up for her so she never had to find a hotel, and we usually did dinner here at least once while Trinity was in town so the entire family could see her.
She and I may have never truly been together before now, but this family—my found family—loved her just the same.
Trinity may not have her sister here, but she had my family. And maybe one day, Carla and her husband would move out here, too. And if they moved out here, maybe it would convince Trinity to stay with me. Once she started therapy and began healing, I feared she’d leave again. And while it would gut me—fucking eviscerate me—I’d never stop her. I’d never attempt to hold her back.
I was a small-town guy who wanted nothing else from the world than what I had right here. And I couldn’t fault her if my small-town life wasn’t enough for her. It wasn’t enough for a lot of people. Sometimes, people needed more.
I slowed to a crawl before stopping by Byron’s Mustang. The man himself was leaning on the hood, watching his and Dylan’s kids run around and play while he smoked a cigarette. He turned to look at us when I pushed open the door to my truck and hopped out.
“Miranda is so damn excited, she can barely contain herself,” Byron informed me.
I snorted. “That’s nothing new.” Rounding the truck, I huffed when I saw Trinity had already gotten out and was shutting her door. “You’re supposed to wait for me to open?—”
“Trinity!” Miranda exclaimed, her screen door slamming open with so much force, I was surprised it didn’t just fall from the hinges. Trinity whirled around to face her in alarm, but immediately, the tension bled from her body, and she smiled at Miranda. “Oh, honey, it’s so damn good to see you!”
The moment Trinity was in her arms, I heard Trinity sniffle, her face burrowing in Miranda’s neck. My heart clenched as I worked on getting Wyatt out of his booster seat and onto his feet on the ground. Miranda patted Trinity’s back and gently rocked her side to side. “Oh, honey. It’s okay. Whatever brought you to town, we’ll work through it, you hear me?”
“Go play, bud,” I quietly told Wyatt, gently nudging him in the direction of the other kids.
Wyatt rushed off, leaving the three of us standing there as Trinity continued to quietly cry. Miranda lifted Trinity’s head from her shoulder as soon as Wyatt was out of sight and brushed at the tears on Trinity’s cheeks. “I need both of you to tell me what’s going on,” she said, looking between the two of us.
I pressed my hand to Trinity’s lower back. “Can we take this inside? Maybe Kaylyn can watch the kids for a few minutes while we talk about this. This is a family sit-down kind of situation.”
Miranda frowned, then nodded. “You two go on inside. Byron and I will round up the kids and give them the rules.” She released Trinity. “Jimmie, get everyone to the kitchen table.”
With that, she turned on her heel, rounding the hood of my truck to go over to Byron. Trinity turned to look at me and swiped the sleeve of her long-sleeve shirt under her nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to become such a mess the moment she hugged me.”
