My mouth drops open as I struggle to respond, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over me. But as the dark outline of an ignorant man—somehow familiar but rude all the same—fades into the distance, frustration over everything wins out.
"Fuck you too!" I scream, leaning toward the driver's side window. The words cut through the silence of the night. He's too far away already to even hear my response.
But I don't really care.
It wasn't really meant for him anyway.
"Hey," I sigh, dropping my purse onto the kitchen counter.
Trevor glances up from his phone briefly and paints a weak smile. "What's up, babe? How were the kids?"
I sniffle, wiping underneath my eyes. "They were fine," I answer before turning around and leaning on the marble. I blow a breath between my lips. "But they're moving."
He nods without looking up, one foot wiggling back and forth as it rests on top of the other on the coffee table. "Oh, yeah?"
I turn, pulling one arm over my chest and lifting the other to rub my forehead. "Yep."
"Where to?" I watch as he squints, staring at the screen.
"Washington."
He finally lowers his arms and brings his eyes to mine. "D.C.?"
I shake my head. "State." Raising both fists into the air, I smirk sarcastically. "Go Titans."
Trevor holds my gaze, clearly only half present. I wait patiently for his reaction—anger, sadness, sarcasm, anything. Just when I think he may curse their name, mourn my loss, or dare I say, run to my defense, he curls the corner of his upper lip. "That sucks, babe."
That quick his focus is back on the screen. I turn around, bracing both hands on the counter again, and hang my head between my shoulders. I heave a heavy sigh, and to my surprise, I hear footsteps behind me. Trevor wraps his arms around my waist. "Don't worry, Tess. I can cover the rent. You'll find something else."
I spin around, placing my palms on his shoulders. "It's not about either of those things. I just—I liked the Randolphs. We had a good routine. And they always kept those yogurts I like stocked in the fridge."
"What yogurts?" he asks, honing in on that one thing.
"You know, the big ones with the real fruit chunks." His only reaction is his forehead creasing. "They have the white label with the black writing and the little lemons on the front." He frowns, shrugging, and I shake my head. "Never mind. That's not the point. I'm just sick of starting over. I want to find a family that I love and that loves me back… that I can stay with long term like I had before."
Trevor reaches up and tucks a loose hair behind my ear. "I know, babe. I get that."
I groan and nuzzle my head into his collarbone.
"If it makes you feel any better…"
Popping back up, I look at him expectedly.
"Now you can go on that work trip with me in a few weekends."
My head lolls backward. "And entertain your boss's wife while you schmooze?"
He winks and grins smugly. "Pretty much."
I fake a smile. "Yay," I say dryly.
Trevor pulls me back into his chest as it rumbles from his laughter. "It'll be great."
My eyes sink shut, savoring the fact that he can't see the tears that slowly form behind them.
He doesn't get it. Or he does, but it just doesn't mean to him what it does to me. Nothing has fulfilled me like working one on one with families has. Not teaching in a classroom and definitely not serving at The Gilded Pub. So, every time this happens—whether the child goes off to school or a grandparent retires… or a family moves away—it's a much bigger loss than a paycheck.
My phone buzzes from the counter, and I blink away the tears before they fall. Pulling back from Trevor, I glance down at the lit-up screen. "I should probably get that. It's my siblings."
