Page 27 of The Blessing

I watch as Travis’s eyes widen in surprise, disbelief, and—dare I say—understating. “Sorry, Travis. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you around. Hopefully,” I say as I stand up with Grey in my arms and take a few steps away from the booth.

“That’s fine, Trevor. I understand, man. I really do. I just want you to know that I’m here if you need me.”

I pull my wallet out and toss some cash on the table to cover my lunch and give Travis a tense smile, which I’m sure looks more like an annoyed grimace, before walking out of the diner. I feel like a fucking coward. It’s evident he misses Dean as much as I do. But I’m just not ready to face him yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. Maybe one day I’ll be able to openly talk about my brother and what he meant to me. But today—I’m in pieces.

I’m a fucking zombie on the drive home. I go through all the motions with an emptiness that makes Grey uneasy. He looks at me like I’m an alien in a familiar body and doesn’t seem too happy at the idea of going home with me. As soon as we enter our apartment, I sit down on the couch with him on my lap. How long we sat like this—I don’t know. Time eludes me completely; seconds pass by as quickly as an hour. I don’t look at the clock. I don’t look at anything. I’m too numb to do anything beyond staring off into space. The memories won’t stop coming, causing me to grow fearful that they’ll consume me completely.

Dean surrounds me as if he were still alive. As I sit here, holding his son, I can’t help but wish I was the one who had died. I would’ve gladly taken his place, and I’m not saying that to be a fucking coward. I don’t hate my life, but I love Grey enough to wish he had his father instead of me: a piss poor substitute. Dean had the entire world at his feet and I doubt there’d be a single person who’d miss me if I was gone. To Grey, I’m a sad excuse for a father, and to my parents, I’m an embarrassment for a son. I close my eyes and let my mind drift to a time where everything seemed so simple.

Mom throws her head back and laughs as Dean and Travis give her a play-by-play of their last football game. She looks beautiful like this. Like the young, carefree woman she once was instead of the ice queen I’m used to. Dean’s stories always put her in the best of moods. She loves nothing more than to sit on the porch with her vodka and cranberry juice drink in hand, listening to the stories of her heroic, athlete son. I like to listen to my brother’s stories, as well—although, I can tell my presence annoys the fuck out of her. When I’m around, it’s a reminder that her family isn’t exactly “perfect.”

Grey’s cries pull me away from my train of thought and bring me back to the present. I don’t make a move to comfort him; despite how much my heart yearns to, my body can’t seem to move an inch. There’s a hastened knock on the door and when I don’t answer it, Ronnie lets herself in.

I hear her approach, but I don’t turn to look. I don’t want her to see me like this. Finally, my body is under my mind’s control again and I bring a crying Grey up to rest against my chest. Ronnie must think I’m a walking disaster because as soon as she sees me her beautiful face pales and it takes her a moment to recover.

“I’ve been trying to get in contact with you all day.” Her voice is quiet and unsure.

“I didn’t know. My mind has been somewhere else I guess.”

“Can I sit down?”

I slide over and offer her the cushion next to me on the couch. She sits in silence for a long moment, as if she were trying to gauge the situation before opening her sweet mouth. I appreciate it—I really do—but part of me just wants to be alone, while another part of me yearns for her like a moth to a flame. Seeing Travis has fucked with my head and now I feel like I barely know which way is up.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Fuck, do I want to talk about it? I’m aching to get these thoughts off my chest, but I don’t want it to change the way Ronnie looks at me. I don’t feel comfortable showing my emotions period, let alone with a girl I’m so insanely invested in. We haven’t even fucked yet and here I am considering baring my soul to her. This is a far cry from something the “old” Trevor would do. Hell, I wouldn’t even attempt to connect emotionally with anyone at all.

I turn to her and she looks at me with a face contorted with confusion. My eyes sweep over her huge green eyes, her high cheekbones, and her luscious lips—enjoying the way her bottom lip is slightly plumper than the top. What I wouldn’t give to bite that lip and pull it gently between my own right now. I feel my tongue dart out and run across my bottom lip before I bite down to stifle a groan. I’m trying to control myself from doing what I really want to do. Her eyes fall to my lips and her face flushes as she watches the motion play out. I don’t want to talk—I just want to get lost in the feel of her. Before I know what I’m doing, I bring my lips to meet hers.

My lips gently toy with hers, relishing in their salty taste. They’re softer than I imagined and I wonder if the rest of her is just as soft and sweet. Before I can deepen the kiss with my tongue, she pulls away, blushing a little. She’s no innocent—but she blushes like one. It only turns me on even more. I just want to pull her into my room and corrupt her completely. However, the crying baby against my chest prevents me from doing that. My judgement prevents me from moving further as well. I don’t want to rush things with her. I want to show her just how much I care about her.

“What was that for?” she asks, breathlessly.

“Do I need a reason? I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I saw you.”

She smiles and tucks a tendril of hair behind her ear. “I’ve thought about the same thing.”

As soon as I don’t have something physical to focus on my demeanor returns to the grim one I’ve been sporting since I ran into Travis.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Ronnie asks as she notices the change in me.

I’m quiet for a long time. I rock Grey in my arms and wonder if I’m ready to open up to someone like this. If I’m going to tell anyone what’s on my mind, I’d tell Ronnie. I turn to face her, taking a deep breath before I say the words I never want to admit out loud. I feel as soon as I say them—admit to the truth—I’ll finally have to face my grim fucking reality.

“My brother, Dean, died a little over three months ago.”

Her eyes widen and fill with sympathy. She reaches out to take one of my hands in hers. “Trev, I’m so sorry. You two were very close, weren’t you?”

I nod, feeling the muscles in my jaw tense and my eyes sting with tears. I take a moment to get control of myself. “He and my sister-in-law died in a car accident.” My voice fucking cracks and I pause before continuing. “A drunk driver hit their car…” I trail off, closing my eyes as they sting with tears.

Her eyes fill with tears. As one falls down her cheek, I let go of her hand to gently wipe it away. “Don’t cry for me. It’s all over now and I’ve been trying to move on.”

“I would’ve never known, Trev. You hide everything so well.”

“I don’t know about that. I feel like I’m constantly on the verge of falling apart.”

“You’re so much stronger than you think.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you.”

She says this without any hesitation and I can’t begin to describe the way her words make me feel. She always knows just what to say to me and I’m so fucking thankful for that… for her.

“I saw his best friend today when I was at a diner having lunch with Grey. I haven’t seen Travis since I attended Dean and Cat’s wedding,” I tell her with a bitter laugh.

Ronnie’s quiet, grasping my hand again and allowing me time to continue when I’m ready.

“It was so fucking weird seeing him, Ronnie. It’s as if I’d been confronted with my past and it stung more than I’d ever could’ve imagined. When I looked at Travis, I couldn’t help but see my brother, Dean. I feel like shit for feeling that way because I know he’s suffering, too, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him. It was just that he and Dean are so fucking alike. It’s just a morbid reminder for me.”

When I finally meet Ronnie’s gaze, I find a plethora of understanding. She’s obviously been through some shit, too—maybe one day she’ll tell me about it. Until that day comes, I wouldn’t dream of pressuring her. I can’t believe I doubted her before. I thought she’d look at me with pity, something I’ve gotten far too much of recently. However, while she’s sympathetic, she doesn’t feel sorry for me. Instead, she connects with me on an even deeper level.

“I understand. I understand more than you know, Trev. I promise it’ll get better. Time may not heal your wounds, but it makes them bearable.”

“Am I selfish for blowing him off? Should I reach out to him?”

“Just do what is right for you. I’m sure he’d understand that. When the time is right, you’ll know.”

Time dulls all wounds. God, I hope she’s right because I can’t bear this pain forever.