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I could feel him pulling away, and it hurt. I knew it was for the best. I was already planning to end things. But the last thing I wanted was for Trenton to hate me. I guessed I was delusional, because of course he’d hate me.
“Hey mom!” He called out and I stilled.
I hadn’t seen Lily Wentworth since I was a teenager.
“Trenton,” she smiled at her son. She was beautiful with long dark hair and pixie features. “Hello, Rowan,” she greeted me brightly, and surprised me by opening her arms for a hug. “Did you enjoy New York?” She asked me.
I nodded. “It was lovely.”
Why the heck did I sound so formal? It must have been the mansion giving me the impression that I needed to be more proper.
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” she smiled, stepping away. “Well, I have a lot to do before the party, so I’ll leave you two alone.”
Her heels clicked on the shiny floors as she disappeared down one of the many halls in the mansion. Seriously, how did nobody get lost here? Or maybe they did…and they were never heard from again.
Trent picked up our suitcases up and started up the steps. I knew the luggage had to be heavy, but he acted as if they weighed nothing.
“Do you want to get ready in a guestroom, or my room?” He asked, walking ahead of me.
“Your room is fine,” I shrugged, looking around. “I mean, after this past week, I don’t think either of us have anything to be shy about.”
He chuckled and the sound of it relieved me. “I guess you’re right about that.”
He bumped his shoulder against a door, and muttered, “This is my room.”
The only time I had been here before, I hadn’t seen his bedroom.
The walls were red, a stark contrast to the yellow walls in his bedroom at the townhouse, but I knew this was his favorite color. The bedspread was a charcoal gray and all the furniture was black. Posters for different bands plastered the walls. It definitely suited the teenage Trenton that I remembered.
“So…” He sat down on the end of his bed, making it bounce, “this is home.”
“I like it,” I smiled.
He shrugged, looking around the large room. “It’s okay. I prefer my place, this room seems like it’s stuck in a time capsule, but it’s nice to still have a place at home,” he chuckled. “It makes me feel like that no matter what happens, I’ll always have this place.”
“I’m sure you will,” I glanced around, noting a bookcase in the corner, there was a picture sitting there and something about it drew me closer.
I reached out, wrapping my hand around the frame.
I gasped as I recognized the people in the photo. It was Trent and I on our school trip, the one where we lost our virginity. We were both sitting on a log. I was smiling and he was laughing at something I had said. It was raw and beautiful, and completely unexpected. I studied my face, the happiness shining there. That day was the last day I had felt true happiness.
“I can’t believe you have this,” I gasped. “Who took it?”
“One of the teachers,” he stepped up behind me, his body almost touching mine. “Mr. Jones, I think. He gave it to me, he thought I’d like to have it.”
“And you’ve kept it for this long…” I breathed. “Trent…” I placed a shaking hand to my mouth.
He took the picture frame from my hand and replaced it on the shelf. “Of course I kept it. Just because you stopped speaking to me doesn’t mean I stopped having feelings for you. Emotions aren’t something you can turn on and off, Row. Although, I wished many times that I could.”
I closed my eyes, unable to look at him and see the hurt in his eyes. I hated that I had hurt him, but it was what I had had to do. At first, it was because he told me he loved me and that scared the shit out of me then. It still did. But then other things had happened and I’d pushed myself even farther away from him.
“Trent,” I swallowed thickly, “I know you probably don’t believe me, but I am sorry for how I treated you.”
“It’s okay.” He picked up a strand of my hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “We were young and foolish, and I scared you with my words. I meant them then though,” he bit his lip, “and I mean them now.”
I took a shaky breath. “I don’t deserve your love.”
I didn’t want to believe in love. Hell, I’d spent most of my life not believing in it. I had seen so much bad that it made it hard to see the good. But I did love Tristan and Ivy. I also knew that there was only one word to describe the look in Trent’s eyes, and that was love.
