Page 83 of Say I'm Yours
“I don’t know, Grace, have you lied? Did you know that I’m a bastard? Did you keep the secret just like everyone else?”
“The secret that you’re not Rhett’s? Do you hear yourself?”
A tear falls down his face and his body sinks to the ground. “Go the fuck home, Grace.”
“No.” He’s going to have to drag me out and drive me if he wants me gone.
I try to think about what could’ve caused this. He was upset, but not like this before going back to talk to Rhett. It has to be because of something when he was there.
“What happened in the hospital?”
“I can’t deal with this!”
“What happened in the hospital?” I repeat. “Why do you think he’s not your dad?”
“I don’t think . . . I fucking know!”
I’ve known his family my entire life, and this is crazy talk. Whatever he thinks he knows . . . he’s wrong. Rhett needs him, and he’s being crazy.
“How?”
“God! It’s like no one listens.”
“I’ll listen when you explain yourself!”
“I overheard my mother talkin’ to the doctor and my father. He said somethin’ about the blood test and that I wasn’t a match.”
“Okay.” I sit beside him and gather one of his big hands in both of mine. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not his son.”
Trent shakes his head and another tear drops. He clearly believes this crazy talk. “I heard them say it. I heard my mother say I wasn’t his son and that they weren’t going to tell me. It’s not a fucking lie or me bein’ stupid. I heard her say that I wasn’t his son. I heard with my own ears them say I wasn’t supposed to find out. Well, too fucking late! I found out, so yeah, I’m right where I belong. Alone.”
My mouth opens a little as he crumbles. “You don’t mean that.”
He releases a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, but I do. Don’t you see it now? It all makes sense. I’ve never been a Hennington. I don’t look like my brothers. I have blond hair and they have brown. I’m the only one with blue eyes. I hate fishin’. I hated the horse farm. It’s crystal clear, and I don’t know why I never saw it before . . . I’m not his son!”
“Honey, listen to me.” I shift and his eyes lock on mine. “There’s a mistake somewhere.”
Trent leans over, grabs a stack of papers, and shoves them in my face. “Tell me, Grace. Tell me how this is a goddamn mistake! Look at the papers! I’m B positive. My blood type is B positive. My father is A positive and so is my mother. There’s no fucking way I could be his kid.”
“But . . .” I look at the papers that prove Trent’s blood type is different from the rest of his family’s. “I don’t know what to say.”
He looks at the ceiling and wipes his face. “I don’t know who I am! I’ve always been a Hennington. Now, who the fuck am I? I don’t know who my father is. And my mother! She kept this from me. She lied to me for forty years. Both of them did.”
“Listen to me.” I get to my knees and hold his face in my hands. “You know who you are. And some blood test doesn’t tell you who your father is. A life does. A family does.”
“Don’t give me that shit. They’ve lied to me! My whole life. His name is on my fucking birth certificate. If he’s not my father, who is? Why lie? Why not tell me at some point?” Trent goes on, clearly upset. “They never planned to tell me. They got unlucky, and that’s how I found out. Everything, Grace . . . I don’t even know who I am.”
Hearing the words from his lips, destroys me. I don’t blame him for being so distraught. If I found out my father wasn’t my actual dad, I would be the same way. He loves Rhett, and I’m sure he feels as if this is a huge betrayal. And it is. I honestly can’t believe that his parents would lie to him. Family is everything to them. That being the case, it doesn’t change who he is. His parentage doesn’t affect the man Trent has become.
“I know this is impossible. I can’t begin to imagine what you’re feeling.” I drop my hands.
“You have no idea. You have no fucking clue what I feel. I need you to go. I need to be alone. I don’t want to listen to your reasons or any of that shit. I’m not going back to that hospital.”
I try to recall what Cooper said about how Trent was going to push. When he feels scared, he lashes out at those around him. He’s going to push me away because that’s what he does. He’s hurting, though. Like my mama always says, anger is the outward cry of fear.
“Well, I’m not leavin’.”
Trent yanks his hands back. “Then I’ll leave.”
