Page 82 of Say I'm Yours
“Trent,” I say softly as I step closer. “What are you doin’ here?”
My need to comfort him is instant.
“How? How the hell did you find me? Just go home.”
“This is my home. Why areyouhere?”
He steps back and grips the side of his head. “Fuck! This is why I didn’t want to be found.”
“Do you know how worried I’ve been? How sick your mama is over this?”
The skin around his eyes tightens. He goes from broken to irate in a second. “Good.”
“Good?” I ask incredulously. “Good? How is this good? Your daddy is sick, and he’s havin’ a hard time with the transfusion and you’re hidin’ at my barn?”
“I can’t . . .” He looks away.
“Why are you here? Why did you leave?”
When his gaze meets mine, the pain is so clear I can feel it. It billows off him in waves.
“Because I was far enough away from you that you wouldn’t push me, but close enough I could feel you.”
My chest tightens and tears fill my eyes. He’s always pulled away, but this time he tried not to. However, something has him on the verge.
What I have to do is rein him in. He’s going to push me hard. I know this. “Why did you leave?”
He drops his eyes before turning away from me, but I don’t back off. “Let me in, Trent. I’m not going to let you drift away, not now, not ever. I love you. Talk to me. Tell me what happened. Please.” My words are soft as I step toward him and touch my fingertips against his back.
He shakes his head but doesn’t pull away from me. “I’m too fucking tired to fight you, but I’m not doin’ this.”
I watch him head to the other side of the stable. My lips part as I take in everything scattered around the floor—the lantern, beer cans, the shirt he was wearing yesterday. What stops my eyes are the pillows and blankets that are in the same spot he held me the night my horse died.
“Trent, tell me what’s going on.”
“Not a damn thing,” he spits out.
It seems this is going to be harder than I thought. “Honey, what are you doin’ here?”
He grabs another beer and cracks it open. “Where should I be?”
I walk toward him and rip the can from his hand. “With your father! Remember? The man who is in the hospital, sick, and needs his family. The man you were so worried about not even twenty-four hours ago!”
“Oh, you mean the guy who isnotmy fucking father!” he screams in my face and takes his drink back.
He’s drunk and ridiculous. “Are you insane?” I slap his chest with both hands, shoving him back. “Your father is dyin’, Trent, and you’re out here, in my barn, gettin’ drunk!”
“He’s not my fucking father!” Trent screams again, and his eyes fill with tears. “He’s a liar and so is my mother!”
“What?”
“Jesus Christ! Are you deaf?” Trent’s eyes flame and then his head falls. “Leave, Grace! Let me be alone. You don’t get it. No one gets it, and I’m not going to explain it.”
My heart races as I watch this man fall apart. I don’t leave, but I do have to hold my own emotions at bay because I have never seen him this distraught. “You’re not makin’ any sense.”
He turns his back on me. “I don’t know how to be any clearer. I’m fucking done. I’m done with everyone in this fucking town and all their lies. I’m leaving as soon as I’m sober enough to get the fuck out of here.”
“So, you’re done with me?” I ask. Trent spins back around but doesn’t say a word. We stand here, neither of us blinking, and a tear leaks from my eye. “Is that what you’re saying? You’re done with everyone in this town, which includes me? Huh? Have I lied to you? I don’t even know what happened!”
