Page 62 of Snowed In With The Second Chance Daddy

Trevor nods. “It took me a long time to realize that, but yes, I did. I just tried to compartmentalize and move on. I went to college soon after, so it wasn’t a long time of being tortured like that. That’s where I met Oliver. How I met the Hawthorns.”

I press my hand to my chest.

My heart is pounding fast.

How could anyone do that to a child? How could anyone do that toTrevor?

“They became my family. I never saw my stepfather again after I left. He’s never tried to reach out. He’s married, I think he even has a kid with his new wife, I don’t–” Trevor shuts his eyes tight. “I don’t care, I don’t, but–”

I get to my feet and go to him. “Of course, you care. It’s okay to care.”

Trevor’s breath is shallow as he tries to maintain control.

I touch his arms, rub my hands up and down them, trying to keep him calm.

“You didn’t deserve that, Trevor.”

Trevor’s jaw tightens. “Oliver and I both bonded over having dead moms.” He laughs that off. Laughs most likely to keep from crying. “And then when he realized I didn’t have anywhere to go for Thanksgiving, he invited me to stay with his family and…I just have been a part of the family ever since.”

I place my hand on Trevor’s neck, guiding his chin up so our eyes meet. “I’m so glad you found each other. It kills me you had to go through that. It…it just kills me.”

Trevor leans his cheek into my hand. “I’m telling you this because I know now that the reason I ended things was because I couldn’t handle you leaving. I couldn’t handle it at all.”

“I should have told you I took the job. That’s on me.”

“You didn’t know–”

“I didn’t have to. People don’t hide big shit like that from each other, and I’m sorry.”

Trevor wraps his hands around the back of my head, pulls my forehead to his mouth.

Instead of kissing it, he whispers, “I’m trying to tell youI’msorry. I was just so scared you’d leave me that I thought if I cut it off first, I’d keep myself safe. I felt like that kid again. Abandoned.”

“Of course, you did. I’m so sorry, Trevor. I never would have done that to you if…” I shake my head. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“But it’s on me too. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, I should have let you explain rather than–” His eyes fill with tears. “If I hadn’t given you the ultimatum or made you feel like I wouldn’t try and make things work…”

“I understand now. I get it.”

“I blamed you, but you’re right, it was my fault. We could have had something, I could have gotten over it. I should have. And then I lost you. I lost you.”

I slide my arms around him, holding as much of him as I can.

I won’t ever let him go. I won’t let him get away, won’t let him ache like that ever again.

“We would have been married by now,” he whispers. “We would be getting ready to go on our honeymoon, we would be talking about kids, we’d–”

A few tears drip down his cheeks. Beautiful, glassy drops that leave slick tracks of pain. So much pain.

It’s funny how we shared that pain at such a distance. And yet, we didn’t share it at all. It was each our own, the pain of losing one another.

I squeeze him a bit. “We can’t change the past, baby.”

“I know. I wish I could.”

“I wish you’d told me sooner.” I know I’m the pot calling the kettle black when I have my own stories I’ve never shared.

Trevor sighs. “I didn’t want you to know how unwanted I was.”

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