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She put her hand over his fist. “That wasn’t really about Trenton. You know that, right?” She squeezed. “Honestly, being with him kept me from spiraling out worse from that other idiot I’d rather not name.”
Malcolm turned his hand in hers. “Let’s agree to disagree. Besides, I just told him to stay away if he wasn’t going to get serious about you.”
“I was fine with the no-relationship thing.” Heat crawled up her face as the memory of him slipped into her. “More than fine.”
Malcolm pulled away. “I don’t want to hear this.”
Celia let herself laugh as she turned from the bar to return to her tables.
She was finishing up with her last table for the night when the door to the tavern opened. She lifted her head, and there he was, with that gentle smile she had nearly convinced herself she didn’t miss. Instead of crossing to the bar like he had always done when he’d come to pick her up, he crossed to her.
Trenton looked like he had back when she’d first come to the bar. A businessman, very put together, with a pleasant demeanor and a lousy pickup strategy. It was hard to believe she’d thought he was hitting on her originally. To see him, it was as if nothing had changed from their time together, nothing except for an uncertainty as he looked at her.
“I was hoping we could talk,” Trenton said, his hand lifting to rub the back of his neck. “I thought I could drive you home.”
Katie’s place hadn’t begun to feel like that word, not like Celia’s time at Trenton’s condo. She glanced at Malcolm. He’d been taking her back to Katie’s after her shift, not wanting her to take the bus at night.
Malcolm waved her off, turning away to finish his closing process.
Celia still held the last customer’s credit card. “I have a few things to finish up.”
Trenton smiled. “I know. I’ll wait.”
She’d always felt his presence when he’d come for her before, but it had been soothing, supportive. This time was different. Even he seemed nervous. She was pretty sure she knew why, and it made her actions slow.
Trenton had come to gently break her heart.
Celia had known that would be the outcome ever since she’d left him in the kitchen that night. Trenton wasn’t the type to not care about the person he was with. Their time together had wrecked him. She knew it was for the best, but she dreaded hearing him say it.
The situation was her own fault. She’d promised him she could do a sex only arrangement, but had fallen for him anyway.
It had been so easy for her to remain detached before, but she was starting to suspect she’d always chosen men who wouldn’t make that tough on her. Even her fiancé. She had said yes for the promise of a normal life, not because she’d wanted to be with him.
Trenton was different.
“Go on, Celia,” Malcolm said, interrupting her procrastination. “I’ll finish up things here.” He glanced at Trenton. “Call me later if you need to.”
She nodded, taking off her apron before approaching Trenton, where had already stood up beside the bar.
“Ready?” he asked.
Celia wondered what he would say if she said no. She nodded instead, following him to his car. He held open her door for her like the gentleman he was.
Despite him saying he wanted to talk, he remained silent on the drive. Celia’s fingers played with the rubber band on her wrist.
Trenton parked along the road near Katie’s place, which was dark except for the porch light. He turned toward her, but she couldn’t raise her head.
“I wanted to thank you for the other day,” Trenton said.
Celia jerked her head up. “What?”
“You told me a truth that the guys never could. You made me see that I was only remembering Emily’s death, not her life.”
A part of her tension eased. “Malcolm was mad at me, I think.”
“Not even he could say it, but it was what I needed to hear.” Trenton pressed his back against his door, turning as much as he could to face her. “I visited her grave the next day, but that won’t be my monthly ritual anymore. She’s not there; I’ve never thought she was there. All it did was remind me she was gone.”
Celia studied his face, surprised at the steady eyes that returned her gaze.
