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“Try me.”
I make quick work of the dinner prep while I tell him everything that’s happened with my mom over the past year. He listens intently to every single word, barely ever taking his eyes off me. He asks questions, lots of them, and by the end, his eyes are wide. “So, everything fell into place, huh?” he asks, repeating the words I’d used when I told him I was leaving.
After sliding the tray into the oven, I turn to him, nod. “I mean, in a roundabout way, yeah. It did.”
“And Trevor?” he asks. “How is he?
I start clearing the counter to season the steaks I’d gotten us. “Good. He’s still a dick,” I joke, and he laughs at that. “He re-enrolled at Texas A&M, and he’s living with Amy off-campus. Oh, and remember that—”
“I remember everything, Ava.”
I can’t control the ticking at the corner of my lips. “Um… that conversation you had with him about being an agent?”
Connor nods.
“So, that’s what he wants to do now.”
“Really? That’s awesome.”
“Yeah, it is,” I say, my voice suddenly cracking with the emotions I’ve held on to for too long. Feelings I’ve tried so hard to suppress.
Connor, the boy I met in high school, the boy I fell recklessly in love with, is sitting in my apartment, mere feet away, and he has no idea the impact he’s had on me and my family. None. He’d entered out of nowhere and left footprints wherever he roamed, and our lives are forever changed because of him. And I don’t know how to tell him that. How to portray how much his presence in my life has meant to all of us. I realize now, deep down, that it might be the reason I invited him here. Why I offered to cook for him: a small token of appreciation in a vast ocean of what Trevor refers to as Good. I’m staring, I know I am, but I can’t seem to shake it. I blink back the sudden heat behind my eyes and push down the ache in my throat. “What about you?” I manage to ask. “How’s your dad?”
“He’s good, Ava,” he says, his voice low as he pins me with his gaze.
Now I look away because everything is too much. Too soon. And too real. “Is he still living at that house?”
“No, he left after I graduated. I stayed until the lease was over… though for a while I did consider burning the place down.”
My eyes snap to his.
He adds, “It’s weird, right? An electrical fault when Trevor’s an electrician…”
My lips curve while I force out a sigh. “The insurance money sure came in handy,” I murmur.
“Oh, yeah?”
I push the steaks aside and move on to the salad. Without looking up, I tell him the truth, “We needed an immediate solution, and Peter helped with that side—”
“Peter,” he spits.
I glance up. “Why do you say his name like that?”
“Because I don’t like the guy,” he grinds out, his hands fisted on the countertop.
I wait a second to see if he’ll add any more, and when he doesn’t, I say, “Anyway, the insurance money helped with getting Mom’s placement and getting Trevor and me on our feet.”
He nods, slow. “So, you owe nothing to Peter?”
“Not a cent.”
“But your pride, right?”
“Not even that.”
“Good.”
I drop the knife, drop my pretenses, and shift on my feet. “Why are you so…”
