Page 85 of Without Regret

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

Trevor

I took the last evening flight from Dallas to New York, armed with newfound confidence by my plan for the future. But time was running short. I knew without a doubt that Emma would’ve fortified her defenses by now. She’d most likely push me away. Having Simon in my corner, though, would hopefully help.

For example, he knew where she stayed and was able to call to get her room number. Without that, I wouldn’t have known where to start looking for her.

I knocked on her door at eight o’clock in the morning, hoping to catch her before she might go out. I’d texted her, but nothing had been delivered. Hell, even Simon had called her, and it had gone straight to voicemail. All part of her self-preservation mode, I was sure.

Another knock, and I could sense her on the other side of the door. “I know you’re in there, Em. Open up, please.”

She finally did so, seeming none too pleased to see me. “What do you want?”

“To come in. To talk.”

She looked beautiful, but sad. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and she was dressed in pajamas.

It broke my heart to see her like this.

“There’s nothing to talk about. It would be better if you just left.”

“You mean easier. It would be easier if I left. We can talk in the hall or inside, but I’m not leaving until we do.”

She backed away from the door, allowing me in. This gave me my first glimmer of hope until she spoke again. “What are you doing here, Trevor? You made it pretty clear with your reaction yesterday that things are over.”

“No. I most certainly did not. I was pissed.”

“Yeah, well, as much as I wish I had a time machine, I can’t go back and change things. So it doesn’t matter. It was fun, this thing we had, and though I don’t enjoy the way it ended, it would’ve gotten there eventually anyhow.”

We were squared off in the small living room area only a couple feet apart. Her arms were wrapped around her waist in a defensive pose while I fought not to close the gap and pull her into my embrace. “You haven’t been paying attention if you thought this thing was ending.”

“But you left. The moment you found out about Tom, you got angry and bolted.”

I winced with regret that she’d perceive my actions as another abandonment. “You’re right. I did. I had every reason to be angry. And yes, I needed a fucking minute to get over it. But it wasn’t your long-ago affair with Tom which made me mad. It was hearing it from him. In that way. By having it thrown in my face. Knowing you hadn’t trusted me enough to confide in me. That we weren’t a team. I’m on your side, Emma, but that was an ambush I walked into with you knowing the whole while there was a chance for it.”

“How exactly was I supposed to tell you in a way you could still work with him? How did you see that playing out, exactly? I didn’t enjoy keeping it from you. But I was in a no-win situation.”

This was similar to what Simon had said. And I wished I could say it wouldn’t have affected my working relationship with him, but I knew it would have.

“I realize that now, which is why I got over it by the time I boarded the plane here.”

My words seemed to dissipate the tension in the room.

“Did you love him?” I had to know.

“No. Not at all.”

“But he broke your heart.”

“No. He broke my trust. And worse. My self-worth. He was the first relationship I allowed myself to start. To trust in. Two weeks into it, I found out he was married. He didn’t even act contrite when I confronted him. He simply told me I only had enough value to be someone’s side piece. Obviously, I got my petty revenge with the tattoo. Then I told him if he ever said anything about us I’d tell his wife, but I never forgot that lesson.”

I gripped my fists, suspecting what she was about to say and hating Tom even more. “What lesson?”

Her eyes welled up with tears, her voice breaking on the first three words. “That I’m nothing. I grew up with nothing. I have nothing to offer, and I’ll die with nothing. People like me don’t get the happy beginnings, the happy middles, or the happy endings. And glimpsing it only makes it harder to accept in the end.”

“That’s not true. Not true in the slightest.” Now it clicked home why she had a history of one-night stands with men who called her names. Because, deep down, she didn’t feel worthy of anything else.

She stood quietly while I raked a hand through my hair. Then she uttered words that nearly broke me.

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