Blindness(53)

“Morning, sunshine,” Trevor says, lifting me to a stand.

I stretch my arms over my head and look around, wondering if Gabe and Cody are still here. I hear the sound of a soda cracking open and turn around to see Cody, looking tired and disheveled behind me. “You guys up all night?” I ask, knowing they must have been.

“Yeah, we got a lot done. I think this is going to really work,” Trevor says, confident as always. “I’ve gotta get to the airport though, take back this rental. I sort of wasn’t planning on being out this morning.”

The guilt on his face hits me hard, and I hug him tightly, my awareness still not completely caught up after my sleep, and my mind not remembering everything that’s pulling at me in a million different directions. “It’s okay. Thank you for coming. And…thank you for…” I gesture over my shoulder as I whisper.

“No,” Trevor says, holding his fingertips to my lips. “Thank you. I owe him this. And I’m going to work my ass off for him.”

I know Trevor means it, and I’m proud of him for doing something so right, making this hard choice. I keep reminding myself that Trevor’s lost something, too. The illusion he’d created that kept him tied to his father, believing in his father, burst the minute I confronted him about it.

“Do you have time to take me home?” I ask while I gather my things.

“I can’t. My flight leaves in less than an hour. I’m going to have to bolt if I want to make it as it is, I’m so sorry. Cody? Do you mind getting her home?” Trevor asks, and Cody just nods yes behind him, his eyes avoiding me.

Trevor leans in for one more kiss, then he lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses it right against the ring. Seeing his hands around mine, his ring on my finger, and knowing Cody is right behind me is hard, and I’m not sure how to feel—about anything.

“Okay, I’ll be back…soon.” Trevor says, picking me up and swinging me around once, before grabbing his jacket and the scraps of paper with his notes. “Cody, I’ll call you. Let’s get together next weekend when I come back, okay?”

Cody half waves and nods, not really showing any emotion, but Trevor seems satisfied with his response. He climbs in the small rental car and pulls around the driveway back on to the main roadway.

With Trevor gone, I suddenly feel out-of-place, just like I did the first day he left me alone at the Appletons’. I zip my bag, pull it next to me, and stand at the edge of the table waiting for Cody to give me direction—to tell me what to do. He’s still not making eye contact and is instead busy cleaning things up around the shop, wiping down the hood and window of the car that he and Gabe worked on all night.

“You guys finish that last night?” I say, desperate to find our way back to easy.

“Yep,” he says. Nothing more. Easy is a long way away, and I press my hand deeply into my pocket, wearing what I know is the main reason for this new block between us.

“Hey, if you don’t have time…I mean, if you’re busy…I can totally just call a cab,” I say, fumbling with my purse and bag, not sure whether I should sit or stand—or pull my phone from my purse.

“No, I’m good. Come on, let’s go,” he says, purposely turning from me again and walking the long way around the car as we exit the garage. I step outside on the main driveway and watch as he reaches up and pulls the sliding door down, locking the latch in place, letting out a heavy sigh while he crouches down. He sits there briefly, his hand against the door, almost like he’s adoring it, showing it affection.

We get to his truck, and he reaches for my bags, our hands touching when he does, his fingers grazing over the diamond. I feel him jerk away—and his reaction halts me, leaving my heart heavy and knocking the wind out of me.

“Sorry,” I say out of instinct, but meaning it more than he knows.

“It’s okay, here. Let me get your bag,” he says, his eyes down at the ground, avoiding me. I hand my bag to him and climb in the truck, mostly to escape the tension. I shut my door with care this time, embarrassed by my angry slam from yesterday. I push his mirror a little, straightening it back in place. I pull the visor down and smile at the plastic mirror that’s stuck to the underside with Velcro. My smile fades when I realize he probably put that up there for a past girlfriend—Kyla, I bet.

I’m about to flip it back up when I catch a glimpse of Cody at the back of the truck, reaching into the truck bed for a sweatshirt. He raises his arms over his head and pulls his dirty T-shirt from his body. I’m unable to look away. I’m entranced by the swirling tattoos and words that wrap up both arms and wind onto his chest—which is somehow tanned and chiseled in a way that’s so different from Trevor’s. Cody’s body is hard from work, from pushing himself to the limit, from the life he lives. Trevor’s body is the result of discipline and nightly trips to the gym—the result of privilege.

I catch his eyes in the mirror, and I flip the visor up, my breath hitching, and my pulse racing from getting caught. When he slides in the seat next to me, I notice he’s pushed himself up against the door, his arm hanging out. He’s putting distance between us. We’re quiet for most of the drive, and all I can think about are those few moments we’ve had together, how it felt that night in his room, and that night in the corn maze—how I’ll never feel that way again. I turn to look out my window so Cody can’t see the water building in my eyes, but when I sneak my hand up to wipe the tears away, I hear him take in a heavy breath.