Page 96 of Falling Madly
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you. He asked me to pass on the message.”
I hung my head. It felt so heavy I wished I could have dropped it on the table. “When is he leaving?”
“This weekend.”
Cold sweat prickled on my neck. There were so many things I wanted to ask, but none of them felt appropriate. “What about the company? What are we going to do?”
“He asked us to give his shares to you. We’ll struggle, but we’ll survive. You know he’s been on a very low salary? That’s how we could afford to pay you. But we’ll figure it out. It’ll be okay.”
It wasn’t. In that moment, my heart knew, with absolute certainty, that I’d never be okay with Trevor going away. Ever.
I burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably over my coffee cup. Tears gathered on top of the plastic lid, leaking into my drink. “I drove him away. I messed up. He thinks I don’t… he thinks I… but I can’t…”
Bess drew me into a hug, whispering into my ear. “You love him, right?”
“I love him,” I sobbed. “I don’t want him to go! I love him.”
“I’m sorry I had to do it this way, but now you know.”
I pulled away to look her in the eye. “Know what?”
Her smile sparkled, suspiciously bright. “I made it up. He’s not going anywhere. He hasn’t said anything like that. I don’t think he’s selling the house either. He made us do the paperwork to transfer half of his shares to you months ago, so that part is half-true. But you’d still have to agree to it.” Her eyes glistened. “I just wanted you to see how you felt about him.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I croaked in disbelief. Like a frog. I slapped her arm, then made another incoherent noise. “Fuck, that was diabolical!” I huffed, hanging my head. “I feel like an idiot.”
She grinned back. “Congratulations! You’re in love.”
Two and half hours later, I arrived in Cozy Creek. The Valentine’s Day decorations were finally gone, but the wintery scene was somehow every bit as magical, with gently floating snowflakes and snowcapped evergreens.
I parked Bess’s little hatchback outside Trevor’s cabin and ran towards the door. It felt weird that I’d never seen his place in Denver. We’d only ever spent time together in Cozy Creek. And now he apparently lived here.
In my frenzy to get to him, I knocked on the door and then froze, suddenly realizing he might not be alone. His car was in the driveway, but what if he’d driven here with someone else? What if Bess was mistaken, and he’d already moved on? I’d treated him horribly for months, assuming the worst. Sure, he’d hurt me, and sort of ruined my big break, but I understood him a little better now. More importantly, I had truly forgiven him.There wasn’t even a small slice of grudge left in my soul, and it felt liberating. I felt lighter than air.
We’d both made mistakes. My instincts were fallible, just as fallible as Trevor’s. Yet, I loved him. That ache in my chest had sharpened like flavor being teased out on low heat until it was all I could taste with every receptor in my body.
Bess’s little theater piece had achieved two things: I knew how I felt, and I knew what I feared. On the way to Trevor’s door, I’d scanned his yard for a ‘for sale’ sign, relieved there wasn’t one. The alternate reality she’d painted of him selling the house and moving away wasn’t that far-fetched. I’d believed it without a moment’s hesitation. Maybe Trevor wasn’t there yet, but if I kept pushing him away and breaking his heart, it might happen.
There’s only so much rejection a man can take.
I knocked again and heard the faint sound of footsteps. Finally, the door opened. It was him. Barefoot, in gray slacks and a white tee, hair sticking out and mouth curving into a smile. The light flooding in through the tall windows framed him with an otherworldly halo as he leaned his arm on the doorframe, tilting his head at me. “Teresa.”
He said my name like a caress, waiting for my move.
“Trevor,” I said back, swallowing against the stickiness in my throat. “I’m ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“For us.”
He stepped aside to let me in. The cabin looked as inviting and grand as before, but there was a stack of boxes by the doorway. Next to them stood a huge office printer—the very same model I remembered cursing at Wilde Creative many times.
“Wait, are you moving?” My voice rang with fear.
Trevor looked confused. “Yeah. I’m moving here.”
“Here,” I repeated. “You’re stayinghere?”
“Yes.” He stood on the living room threshold, hands on his hips, waiting for my next move.
