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But it’s been torture to know that Trina is here, that she’s thriving on her own, and I gave up the right to be part of that when I pushed her away.
It was my own dumb pride, wasn’t it? I’ve been so caught up in the conviction that I should be alone, that no woman could ever be right for me. It was the scars from my childhood that clouded my decisions.
But the truth?
The truth is I’ve known I loved Trina since she stepped into the doorway of my classroom wearing those pale-blue pants, regal and elegant and unattainable.
“I’ve missed you,” I blurt.
Trina stiffens. “Mac…”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I just had to say it. I was wrong to push you away and I was wrong to tell you we couldn’t be together. It kills me that I hurt you. I just want you to know I’m sorry.”
Trina swallows, her eyes steady on mine as her hands smooth down her shirt. She takes a deep breath. “Nothing has changed, though, has it?”
I let my eyes slide away, staring at the paved stones beneath my feet. “It feels like everything has changed.”
“You’re still Katie’s teacher.”
“I’ll wait. The school year will end.”
I know I sound desperate, but I can’t quite bring myself to care. I’ve let my pride stand in my way for three months now, avoiding Trina, teaching Katie every day and wishing I was standing by her mother’s side. I’ve dreamed of Trina’s body, sure, but what I’ve missed most is her smile. The way it feels to have her in my arms. The way she laughs when she’s at the pottery wheel and the way her breath catches when she feels my touch.
I’ve missed her. I’ve missed the way she carries herself with her back straight and her head held high. She’s emerged from her divorce with grace and strength, and I love her. I love her so much it hurts—physically, I mean. It hurts my heart to be in her presence and not be allowed to touch her, to tell her.
Trina releases a sigh, closes her eyes, and that resolve I admire so much straightens her shoulders. She looks at me and gives me a sad smile. “I’m doing really well right now, Mac. I’ve got a new business and my kids to take care of. I’ve got a lot on my plate. I just don’t have the time or energy to put into a relationship—especially when I know that anything with you would be intense and all-consuming.” She reaches over to put her hand on my shoulder, and the weight of it feels like an anchor. “I just got out of a marriage that I’m still reeling from. It wouldn’t be fair to you or me if I jumped into something new.”
“You sound sure,” I answer with a strangled voice.
She holds my gaze for a moment and squeezes my shoulder. “I am.”
“So you won’t even try?”
When she drops her hand from my shoulder, it feels like losing a limb. Katrina shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Mac. I need to focus on myself and my kids. I can’t give you what you’re asking for.”
My throat is tight, and all I can do is nod. When she closes the door, I stand on the doorstep and let a long breath slide through my lips.
As I walk back to my truck, I sit in my cab for a few moments and glance at her house. This doesn’t feel the same way it did when she came over to my place after the first day of school. That day, I was closed off and so sure that I was making the right decision.
It doesn’t even feel like the last time I was here, flowers in hand and hope budding in my heart. I left angry and hurt, and I ran to my father’s bar to lick my wounds.
No—this time, I feel determined.
I know Katrina is the woman I want. If she says it’s not the right time, then I’ll wait. I’ll make damn sure that when the right time comes, I’ll be standing there with my arms open.
When I roll the doors to my studio open and flick the lights on, I turn on the space heater and let my lips curl into a smile. I still have a few pieces to finish for the Four Cups order, but that’s not what I’m going to work on. Tonight, I’m going to create something that reminds me of Katrina. Something I can show at that stupid gallery opening in January that will mean something only to me.
And if I’m lucky, it’ll mean something to her.
CHAPTER 36
Trina
For the next week, I replay that conversation with Mac in my head. No matter which way I turn it over, it always feels like I made the right decision.
I’m better on my own. Ever since I decided to pursue this business, focus on myself and my children, things have fallen into place. I can talk to Kevin without needing an hour to recover afterward. I can arrange hand-offs with the kids and even think rationally about the fact that he’ll have them for Christmas this year since I had them for Thanksgiving, which had previously been something that broke my heart.
The first thing I do is buy a new car—well, a new used car. No more fear of running out of money. Things will work out, and I need to have a reliable vehicle. Then, in that new car, I take the kids Christmas tree shopping with my mother, and we end up decorating it the second weekend of December. I promise them that Santa Claus knows they’ll be with their dad, and promise we’ll do a mini-Christmas here before they fly up to see Kevin in Seattle.
