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“Trina—”
“Emily came to see me.”
The words stopped him cold, and she watched as his eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he’d reeled that emotion in. “Oh?”
Such a simple word, with the inflection of a question.
“Ren...did you...all those years ago, were you cheating on me?”
She watched as the color drained from his face, his lips even paling at her question.
“It’s a simple yes or no,” she said, her voice wavering with emotion.
“It’s not that simple,” he managed to whisper, and tears sprung into her eyes.
He’d cheated on her.
Butit’s not that simple.
Her hands shaking, she ran her fingers through her hair, inhaling deeply as she fought the urge to succumb to the tears that had overtaken her earlier. “H...how complicated?” she asked, hating the question, the implication.
But needing to know.
“Trina, please, I can’t.”
“This is how it’s supposed to be,”he’d said as he’d held her in his arms that night.
“I need you to.”
“Please!”
“Ren, if you can’t be honest with me, then you need to leave,” she said, though every fiber in her being was begging him to stay. “And you need to stay gone this time.”
One tear trailed down his cheek as his gaze locked with hers. “You don’t understand.”
“Make me understand.”
“It was all I’d known since I was six fucking years old, Trina. All I had known.”
Katrina felt the bile creep up into her throat as she looked away from him, trying to come up with words, trying to get him to say what she now knew was true.
“What was all you’d known, Ren?”
“It was...it was them, the people sworn to protect me. And it didn’t matter where I went. It didn’t matter.” He began to pace, his face still pale, sweat beginning to cover his brow.
“What didn’t matter?”
“Trina, please.”
“What didn’t matter, Ren? Was it me? Did I not matter?”
“Fuck! Don’t...don’t go putting words in...Trina, it didn’t matter how little I was. All I was told was I was gorgeous. Fuck...FUCK, I hate that word.”
Katrina’s body began to shake, but she held it together.
She had to.
“Why?” she finally asked, coaxing the words from him. “Why would you hate that word? You’re—”
