Page 50 of Falling Madly
Chapter Eighteen
Teresa
Trevor’s cabin wasn’t just a gorgeous house. It was my dream house—the exact interior I’d planned in my head and on my computer when house hunting. The huge, overstuffed armchairs with button details, the inviting leather couch, the soft throws, and textured cushions. The wall-to-wall bookshelves, the giant candle holders, and overlong velvet curtains. The room was full of things I’d pinned and dreamed of.
It made no sense. He’d stolen my dream job, made a fortune, and then stolen my dream house? I loved my little condo in the city because it was mine, but I’d never had the budget to create all this. I lived amongst mismatched second-hand items and cheap Ikea furniture. And Trevor hadthis?
Was it possible our tastes were this aligned? Was my taste particularly masculine? My gaze drifted to the coral velvet armchair, and I shook my head. “Trevor?” I waited for him tolook at me and as soon as he did, I picked up on the worry in his eyes. “Are we the same person?” I asked.
“What? Why?”
“Because this is exactly the house I would have created if I’d had the budget. Apart from maybe that mountain scenery, but honestly, now I’m thinking that was the one thing missing from my plans.” I gestured at the tall windows, sighing in awe.
His cheeks reddened. “No. It’s for you. It’s… what you showed me. Please don’t freak out. You told me about your dream board, remember? By the pool. You showed me those pictures, and I remembered your username. Of course. Dragonfly. And later, when I bought this place, I had no idea how to decorate. I don’t decorate… I don’t have preferences.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “So, I hired someone, and I gave them your board for reference.”
“So, you stole my dream and made it for yourself?” I stared at him in confusion, too many emotions fighting for my attention. Was I supposed to feel flattered or betrayed?
His voice turned frantic. “No! I did it for you. I told ye, I don’t have preferences. A couch is a couch. But I had to choose somethin’, and I thought if I chose what ye liked, then you’d… feel at home.” He wrung his hands, looking at them like he didn’t know who they belonged to. “Honestly, you were so hellbent on avoiding me back then that I didn’t think you’d ever see it. And in some weird way, it made me feel closer to you. But when I realized ye were going to see this, I came to my senses, and I knew it was a really stupid, really creepy idea.”
As if claiming defeat, he picked up a picture frame leaning on the wall, turned it around, and hung it up. It was an intricate drawing of a dragonfly and the most beautiful piece of art I’d ever seen.
I stared at it, then at him, lost for words. I felt so torn I could barely form a sentence in my head, let alone speak one. He’d taken my dream,mydream, and created it to feel closer to me?
“You do realize thatIcouldn’t create this dream, because I wasn’t on that team and didn’t get those tokens and that payout? My house looks nothing like this. I’ve never actually seen this in real life, only on my Pinterest board. That first picture?—”
“That was the one I asked the designer to run with. I thought it looked amazing.”
“So, youlikethis? It’s not just for me?”
His eyebrows pulled together. “It’s great! The couch is really comfortable. But you know I’m not a designer. I’ve never worried what my couch should look like, as long as I’m sharing it with people I love. I may not get much out of Pinterest, but I’ve visualized curling up on that couch with someone I love… and one day having my kids use it as a trampoline.”
Trevor exhaled, rubbing his forehead. “And now I’m freaking you out even more.”
“No! It’s… beautiful.” I raised my hands to my face. My cheeks were burning hot.
He took my coat and guided me to that cognac leather couch, adorned with soft throws. It felt surreal, like walking into my favorite Pinterest image come to life around me. I still didn’t know what to think, but I had to sit on that couch to confirm it was real. It received me like a cotton candy cloud, and I let out a reverent sigh. “Is this why you didn’t want me here? Because of the décor?”
Trevor got busy with the fireplace, facing away from me. “Kind of.”
I caught a whiff of lighter fluid, then the smell of woodsmoke as the logs were licked by flames. I’d forgotten how soothing the sound of a crackling fire was on a cold day.
With the fire going, he joined me on the couch, which startled me so much that I jumped up. “I’ll just take a look around, okay?” I said breathlessly, wandering over to the window.
The tall, paneled feature windows offered a vast mountain view, including a glimpse of the snowcapped Rockies. We were still very close to town. Beyond the strip of snow-dusted forest, I could see a glimpse of the town center, with a hint of pink on the lamp posts.
I wasn’t sure what I’d expected from Trevor’s house, but it wasn’t this. Walking around the room felt surreal, yet I couldn’t help it: I loved this place. He’d created the haven I’d always dreamed about. It was perfect.
I walked across the room to the open-plan kitchen, studying its tasteful details. It wasn’t directly lifted from my dream board, but perfectly matched the look of the living area. If I’d come across a picture of it somewhere, I would have pinned it. I ran my fingers along the cool stone countertops, imagining how nice it could be to cook with this much space. No need to stack countertop shelves onto every available square inch. There was ample space, a giant pantry, and overhead cabinets to hold everything you needed.
My city mortgage was huge, yet my apartment was tiny. Even if I saved for years, I couldn’t create this look in such a small space. It’d always look boxy and crammed.
Driven by curiosity, I kept walking, heading towards the doorway leading to the bedroom. It turned out to be a door to another, smaller living area that led to three bedrooms. Two were empty, but the master had a king-sized bed and a dresser. The Pinterest stalking didn’t extend to the décor around here. The bed seemed high quality, but the room had nothing else. No cushions, chairs, rugs, or art. Not even curtains. Just white sheets, white walls and a lot of floor space.
Trever appeared behind me.
“You still working on these?” I asked.
“The designer said she needs direction, and I didn’t have enough visuals to go on.”
