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He wagged a finger at me. “Don’t ever do this again, Bye. If you need something, if you’re in trouble, come to me. I have the power to help you, and I’m damn sure gonna use it.”
“I thought about it. You have no idea how much. How was I supposed to know you wouldn’t laugh in my face and tell me to go to hell?”
“Is that really what you think of me?”
I looked around, trying to find an answer. “Yes and no. We’ve never been on good terms, Trevor. What was the likelihood I could turn up out of nowhere begging for money-”
“It wouldn’t be begging.”
“-and you would be my knight in shining armor?”
His head dropped forward and he sighed. “I can’t believe I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me with this. Never again.” He gathered me up into a strong, tight, warm hug. “Bye, I’m sorry.”
That did it. Tears exploded out of my eyes and a high-pitched whine from my chest.
“I wanted you. I wanted you to be with me.”
“Iamwith you. I’m not going anywhere. Never again.”
“Would you hold me? Just like this?”
He squeezed me tighter. “Nothing would make me happier.” I cried. So this was really it. All of my wildest dreams were coming true, because Trevor and I were finally seeing each other as we had been all along; fated mates.
We were on our way to saving my mom, and Trevor and I were on our way to becoming more.
Chapter 7
Trevor
“The moment of truth.” I held Byron’s hand as he held his mom’s hand. She lay in bed, in her bedroom in the house I bought us in Rochester, Minnesota to be close to the clinic while she was being treated. Mom’s surgery had been a big success, thanks to the world-renowned expertise of the surgeons at the Mayo Clinic. I had stopped everything to stay and support Byron. It was worth it and then some.
“The moment of truth,” Byron whispered back. He squeezed my hand, terrified. I squeezed his back, reassuring him. I looked at him and smiled, saying,everything’s gonna be okaywith my eyes. It scared me that there was a possibility my money hadn’t fixed everything, the way it always did for me, but I had faith that we’d given Mom the absolute best shot at beating this cancer.
“Right this way, Doctor.” A member of my staff opened the bedroom door and ushered the surgeon in. He was tall and regal, an older gentleman who carried himself knowing exactly how important his job was. He held a smart tablet in his hand and a smile on his face.
“Oh, my god,” Byron gasped, the upper half of his body drooping down with relief. “We’ve got good news. It’s gotta be good news.” The distress in his scent lessened, which I was grateful for. His scent had been different lately, in a way I couldn’t describe. It was sweeter, more mellow, in a way. I hadn’t paid close attention to why it might have changed, because we were so focused on Mom. I had just enjoyed it, and hope it meant I was bringing him some happiness through these tough times. Now that it looked like we had good news, maybe now was the time to ask him about it.
