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As if he realized what he’d done, Trenton released her. “Sorry if that was too much. I just missed you.”
Celia turned to face him, her lips starting to tilt up until she noticed he wasn’t smiling. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have gone with you today.”
“I never want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, Celia.” He glanced behind her, his eyes widening. “What’s all this?”
She cringed. “It’s too much, isn’t it? I’ll get rid of it.” She turned to the counter, reaching for the vegetables.
His hand covered hers, and she stilled. “It’s not too much. It’s nice.” He turned her again to face him. “Is everything all right?”
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out again. “I’m acting crazy, aren’t I?”
“Not crazy,” he said, taking her hand. “Uncertain. You making dinner for us is sweet, though I’m not hungry yet.”
“Right,” she said, wondering how stupid she could be. “You just came back from lunch with your family. I’ll put everything up for now.”
“It’ll keep. Come on.” He tugged on her hand, leading them to the living room.
She sat next to him, focusing on her hand, which was still within his. His fingers were long, and his palm warm.
“You’re overthinking things. Remember what I told you before.” Trenton reached out, his hand tilting her face toward his. “You can do anything that feels right to you.”
When his kiss came, it was similar to the one they’d shared earlier that morning. Sweet and soft and really, really bad for her heart. No one she’d dated had ever kissed her that way.
When it ended, Trenton pressed his forehead against hers. “Can I ask you something?”
She nodded, which bumped their heads together. Pulling away, she rubbed where they had hit, her fingers brushing over the small scar she had there.
“My parents mentioned you were in the hospital as a kid. Around the same time that my mom was there when she became ill.”
“Oh,” she said. She backed up farther, pulling her legs up and leaning into the corner of the couch. “And you want to know why?”
“If you want to tell me,” he said.
She wondered if she did. The panic she’d always felt at the memory didn’t rise. Maybe it was because she’d talked about it so recently. Maybe it was because it was Trenton. “Malcolm never told you?”
“He’s never told any of us much about what happened back then.”
It made sense. Malcolm wouldn’t have. “He saved me that day. If he hadn’t come by my house, I wouldn’t be here.”
Trenton’s hand shifted before pressing against the couch cushion again.
“My mother pushed me off the roof and then stabbed me with a pair of scissors, more than once.”
Trenton’s eyes closed, any sense of his smile gone, and Celia immediately regretted what she had done.
Chapter 28
Trenton’shandsclenchedonthe couch at her words. She’d nearly been killed, and he had never known.
“It wasn’t her fault,” she rushed on, her hands wrapping around her pulled-up knees. “She couldn’t help it. She was crazy. There was a diagnosis and everything.”
All he wanted to do was hold her, but she was curling tighter into herself.
“That’s why, you know,” she said. Her eyes lifted to his, as if she was waiting to judge his reaction.
Trenton forced his breathing to remain even, for him not to reach out to hold her. He’d lost a thread of the conversation. “Why what?”
“I’m not relationship material. I carry that crazy gene, too.” She shook her head, but not in denial. “Daniel was right to call things off, even if he did it the wrong way.”
