Page 57 of Loving Trent
Tears start to fall down her face, and I quickly wipe them away. “Good, because I don’t want to live with anyone else.”
My heart fills with love while my eyes sting. To change the subject, I pick up the small box sitting beside me and place it on her lap. “I got you something.”
Harley wastes no time tearing the purple paper off. When she sees her new phone, she squeals and throws her arm around my neck. “Thank you, Trent.”
The front door flies open, pulling our attention away from each other. “Harley,” Sadie screams before she throws herself at Harley. Quick as lightning, Harley pulls back and catches her.
“I think someone missed you,” I say, ruffling Sadie’s hair. The sound of vehicles coming down the road again pulls my attention away. Uncle Joey’s car pulls in. Behind it is Sonny’s truck, and then the last is a car I’ve never seen before.
“Who’s that?” Harley says, standing up when I do. I follow her hand as she points to the last car out.
“That would be my little sister,” I say right as the door to the small gray BMW opens, and a very butch-looking woman steps out. “Holy shit.”
I don’t have time to get a good look at the woman who has my sister’s face, but definitely doesn’t look like it’s her when it comes to everything else, before she sprints across the yard and throws herself at me.
“Betty?” I ask as I catch her in my arms. What the hell is going on right now?
Twenty-Seven
TRENT
Wet, hot tears roll down my neck as Betty clings to me as if she is afraid I will disappear the second she lets me go. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that the woman in my arms is my little sister. Gone is her long, curly, always perfectly styled hair and the feminine dresses she wore. She has tattoos and facial piercings now. It’s not a bad thing. It’s just blowing my mind. Betty lived and died by Josiah’s rules. She never stepped one toe out of line. He told her what to do, how to think, and even what to say. Before I was sent away, I tried to follow his rules, but always found myself questioning the reason behind them. I never told anyone that or even stepped far out of line until the day I met Shawn.
Slowly, everyone walks past us, heading into the house. Sonny tells Harley, “Let’s give them some time alone,” before he walks past. I assume he takes her inside with him. Next is a curvy, shorter woman whom I don’t know. Before she passes us, she places a hand on Betty’s back and kisses her cheek. Which leaves me questioning everything even more. Last to walk away is Shawn. My gaze collides with his, and I hate the worry I see. Although he offers me a gentle smile, which makes my anxiety about his fear that I’m mad at him lessen. Just like the womandid with Betty, as he passes, he touches my back, but gently kisses my lips.
Once the door shuts for the final time, I gently pull Betty back and get my first good look at her. “What happened to my perfect little sister?” The stupid question is out of my mouth before my brain has time to catch up.
Betty smiles and wipes the tears off her face. “I grew up and found the courage to be the real me. What do you think?” She cocks one eyebrow up as she does a little turn in front of me.
“It’s different, but…” I cup her face once she is facing me again. When she was younger, if anyone wanted to know what Betty was feeling, all they needed to do was take a quick glance at her eyes. They always told her story. Her eyes say that she is a little sad, but she is also feeling free. She looks happy—genuinely happy. “You look really good. Happy.”
Betty copies me and cups my cheek. “I am now. What happened to you? Where did you go? Why didn’t you come back?”
Each question pokes at the tender spot in my heart. The place that, over the last couple of days, has been slowly healing, thanks to everyone around me. The sound of car doors opening pulls our attention away from each other. Betty looks over her shoulder, and her whole body tenses when she sees Uncle Joey standing next to his car. Uncle Joey’s hazel eyes grow wide, and he shakes his head as if he is also unsure where the niece he knew went.
“Uncle Joey,” Betty whispers fondly. She turns back toward me. “He’s here? Why?”
“He’s helping me,” I say as another door shuts in the driveway. “He and his boyfriend Ryan are helping all of us find the people who ran the conversion camp I was sent to.”
“Boyfriend,” Betty yells, spinning around to watch Ryan wrap his arms around Uncle Joey.
Grabbing her hand, I gently pull her toward Uncle Joey, who is still standing frozen in place. “There is a lot we need to discuss, little sister.”
Tears.
Anger.
Heartbreak.
Those three emotions fueled the conversation between Betty, Uncle Joey, and me as we sat outside under the blue afternoon sky. Ryan left us after introductions were made. I laid it all out there for Betty and fought through the fear of her judgment. Uncle Joey told her all about Ryan and why he never told us about his sexuality. Then Betty told us her story. To say it mirrored my own and Uncle Joey’s is an understatement.
“The night you left,” Betty says, while her fingers pluck at the dead, brown grass. “I wasn’t allowed to come out of my room. The next morning, when I came down for breakfast, Eve wasn’t there like usual, but Josiah was. He sat me down and told me that you were going to a boarding school in England. When I asked why, he told me that it was something you wanted, and I hate to admit it, but I believed him.
“Honestly, I believed everything Josiah said for the first year. All the excuses for why you never called when I was home, wrote me back, or came home for the holidays. Josiah?—”
“You wrote me letters?” My plan was to let Betty get her whole story out before I spoke, but my question just slipped out.
“Of course I did. You’re my big brother, and I missed you. The night you got hurt was the night I started questioning it all, and I hate myself because it took me over two years to see the lies, I was being spoon-fed. Now that I know what reallyhappened to you…” A sob chokes her, and my arms wrap around her, bringing her into my chest.
