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“Tell us what?” Trenton asked.
Thomas looked a little desperate and a lot guilty. “I can’t.” He gestured to Abby. “Go ahead.”
Abby hesitated.
I turned to her. “Tell us what?”
She swallowed, seeming to try to choke down the elephant in the room. “Thomas James,” she whispered.
I frowned, irritated that I hadn’t caught on. But Trenton had.
He paled. “No.”
“Trent,” Thomas begged.
“No!” Trenton said, louder than we’d been speaking for hours. His breath became labored, and then he struggled for every lungful of air. He looked at our oldest brother, hurt and disappointed. “Tommy!” he said, his voice begging. “Tell me I’m wrong!”
Abby leaned in to whisper in my ear. “The guy from California Cami was dating ... T.J.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “Oh, fuck.”
Thomas stood in the middle of the room like a sitting duck, ashamed and more alone than I’d ever seen him.
I walked over to him, and then paused, my gaze falling on Trenton. I didn’t know what to do. We’d never experienced this before.
“It’s okay,” Trenton said finally. “It’s okay, Tommy. I get it.”
Thomas was overwhelmed with Trenton’s forgiveness, barely able to say his next words. “But you loved her first.”
“And she was your first love,” Trenton said. He chuckled, an awkward way to discharge his discomfort. “She tried to warn me. I wouldn’t listen.”
“Because I made her lie to you. Don’t make excuses for me, Trent.”
Trenton raised his good arm and let it fall back to the arm of his wheelchair. “What do you want me to say, Tommy? You want me to hate you? Yell at you? Throw a punch? You’re my brother. I love you no matter what. And Cami … Cami loves you, too.”
Thomas slowly shook his head. “Not like she loves you.”
A small, appreciative smile touched Trenton’s lips, and he looked at Camille. “I know.”
“We’re, uh ...” Abby said, waiting for me. I nodded, and she continued. “It’s late,” she said, hooking her arm around mine. “We’re going to go home. We’ll be back in the morning. Need us to do anything before we go?”
Trenton shook his head.
“You need a ride, Dad?” I asked. He shook his head, too.
I hugged him and Thomas, and then carefully curled my arm around Trenton, waved good-bye, and then led my wife by the hand to the elevator.
We didn’t speak until we reached the car. I opened her door, jogged around to mine, and slid behind the wheel. As soon as my fingers curled around the top of the steering wheel, I puffed out a breath.
“You knew?” I asked. “How did you know?”
She opened her mouth to speak, then couldn’t.
“How, Pigeon? How did you know?”
“I didn’t. Not until I heard he was flying in. I tried to tell myself that maybe I was wrong, considering the twins couldn’t come, but… then I thought about what they could be fighting about and T.J. came to mind. Then … Thomas. It just clicked.” She reached out to me and intertwined her fingers with mine. “You okay?”
“I don’t know. That was intense,” I said. I backed the car out of its parking spot and headed toward the apartment.
