Page 67 of Exes and O's

The lobby itself is your standard corporate space with shiny marble floors and gold elevators lining the back wall. An oak reception desk blocks our ability to reach the elevators, although there’s currently no one occupying the desk. Next to it is a row of three turnstiles where a man in a dowdy suit scans a badge to enter.

Trevor parks himself on a leather tufted bench next to the turnstiles. It’s the perfect view, directly across from the elevators.

I plop down next to him, kicking the snow off my boots. “By the way, I forgot to mention, guess who I met at the hospital the other day when I was visiting Angie?”

“My sister-in-law?”

“Yup.”

“She look okay?” A hint of concern tinges his tone.

“She looked a little worn down. She kept calling me Taryn.”

“Yeah. She’s been working her normal job at the bank and waitressing at night to keep up with Angie’s medical bills.”

“I can’t imagine. Sounds like she could use a break.”

“Sometimes I think staying busy is the only way she can cope. Otherwise, she’d worry herself sick at the hospital. I’m pretty sure Angie would get sick of her too.” A flicker of a smile is visible.

“Does Payton date?”

“She had a boyfriend last year, but when Angie got sick again, he bailed too.” His brow furrows. “Guess a kid with heart disease was a deal breaker.”

“For assholes,” I point out. Selfishly, I use this as a springboard to pose my burning question. “What’s this drama with your brother all about?”

I expect him to tense up and shirk my question, but he nods like he expected it. “It’s complicated. Logan and Payton weren’t together when they got pregnant. They moved in together right after. That went about as well as aJerry Springerepisode,” he explains sarcastically.

“Does he know the extent of Angie’s heart problems?”

“I keep him updated, even though he doesn’t bother asking. Ithink he just expects I’ll tell him if there’s anything important. He’s no Dad of the Year, that’s for sure.”

“What about your dad?”

“He and my brother are a lot alike,” he admits. “He was barely around before my parents split. Moved down to Texas for some construction job when Logan and I were in grade school. We never saw him except for the odd holiday visit, even after my mom died.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t step up after that.”

He lets out a bitter sigh as a boisterous crowd of people make their way through the turnstiles in front of us. “It was probably for the best. He was kind of a dick when Logan and I didn’t want much to do with him. Didn’t understand why we were standoffish. He moved back here when I was sixteen and randomly started picking us up from school on Fridays. He’d take us to Burger King because it was all he could afford. It was weird. It was like he was trying to make up for lost time or something. Logan was always a bit indifferent. He was at that age where he didn’t want to spend much time with anyone. So my dad and I had a lot of one-on-one time. We got pretty close, actually.”

I stay silent, trying to avoid spooking him with any given reaction.

“I’d ask him for advice on girls and money. He was a cheap bastard too. That’s where I learned it.” He chuckles softly. “After a few months, I forgave him for being a shit dad. And then he moved for another job and it kind of felt like the first time he left, all over again. But it was almost worse, because I blamed myself. I didn’t understand why I wasn’t good enough for him to stick around.”

Instinctively, I place my hand on his forearm. When hismuscles clench under my touch, I remove it. “Him leaving had nothing to do with you.”

His hard eyes search mine. “You either.” Without explaining, I know he’s referring to Seth.

I unzip my coat, my neck prickling with beads of sweat. “Do you still talk to your dad?” I ask, shifting the spotlight back to him.

He rakes a tired hand through his hair. “I hear from him every now and then. But haven’t seen him in years. Logan is exactly like him. Not proactive. Doesn’t really bother unless it’s convenient.” I’m silent for a few beats, just letting it all sink in when he nudges me. “Now do you see why I don’t do relationships?”

“Is that why you broke up with Kyla?”

He picks at a tiny leather tear on the bench. “I guess so. We dated for over a year when I came back to Boston after dropping out of college. I broke things off when Angie’s health got really bad. The thought of losing Angie was so fucking terrifying. I wasn’t in any shape to be there for anyone else. You probably think that’s ridiculous, huh?”

“No. It’s not ridiculous at all,” I assure him.

His grief makes my heart ache. I think I finally understand the glaring difference between us. The difference that renders us entirely unmatchable. While Trevor and I are both wounded by abandonment—him more severely—we handle it in opposite ways. He’s locked his heart entirely. It’s hidden behind an impenetrable fortress, surrounded by shark-infested waters. On the other hand, I’ve left my heart wide open, a gaping, only partially healed hole. And to be honest, I’m not sure which tactic is more advisable.

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