As though he knows exactly what he’s done to me, he tightens his arms against me, hugging me into him. “I’ll be right back,” I say and stand up, laughing at Trey’s baffled expression. “I need to use the bathroom,” I embarrassingly admit.
Still puzzled to why I pulled away, he points me to the door. “Make sure you lock the other door, it leads to Dex’s room.” He sits back on the bed.
I escape into the bathroom, thankful that the panty liner is void of any sign of my period. A smile creeps across my face that it’s over, and I’ll be able to finally be with Trey tonight. As embarrassing as it was to leave in the middle to go to the bathroom, it would have been worse for him to find out another way. Going over to the sink to wash my hands, I let my eyes wander over the contents. His toothbrush, toothpaste, hair gel, and razor are all positioned neatly across the counter. So different than Dex’s side, whose toiletries are strewn across the counter, as though he lays it down wherever he is when he finishes using an item.
Being the snoop that I am, I open the drawer and a small bottle of perfume rolls down, hitting against the drawer door. I pick up the sample size and slowly take off the cap to smell it. A crisp flowery fragrant scent hits my nostrils. The smell is nice, but I don’t find a name on it anywhere. I half wonder if this was something some girl left behind or worse some ex-girlfriends that he never got rid of. The image of him picking it up and smelling it to remember the arms of someone else pangs me. Suddenly, the last thing I want to do is go back into that room. But how can I hold it against him, I knew he had a past before I got together with him. Fighting every fiber of me that wants to flush the bottle down the toilet, I reluctantly place it back in the drawer and will myself to forget my findings from my snooping.
I open the door and Trey is staring into his phone, but instantly looks up and smiles at me when he finds me in the doorway. “Do me a favor, baby? Shut that door and swing that latch over it,” he instructs, pointing to the small metal to flip lock on the door, so no one can get in.
I follow his directions and walk quietly over to the side of the bed. Trey watches me intently the whole way. “What’s up?” he asks still wearing that amazing smile of his.
“Nothing, I just had to check something,” I tell him, slowly sitting next to him, keeping my feet planted to the floor.
“Everything good?” he questions, scooting up against his headboard more. I just know I need to know whose perfume that is. I can’t sleep with him, thinking there’s a girl out there he still wants.
“Yeah...no,” I honestly stutter out. “I snooped in your drawers,” I shamefully admit. If I could have left well enough alone, I’d be half naked with him by now.
“Okay,” he patiently waits, not concerned about what I could have discovered.
“I saw something in your drawer. A bottle—.”
“Shit, Kailey,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “It’s not what you think.” He inches closer to me, swinging his own legs to the floor.
“I know it shouldn’t bother me. I know you had a past, we all have pasts,” I begin to ramble. It shouldn’t have felt like a knife to the heart, but it does.
“Fuck,” he mumbles and stands up. “I wanted to tell you, especially after you shared so much with me today. I just didn’t,” he closes his eyes and shakes his head before starting again. “I’m scared to lose you.
Standing up, I reach for his face bringing his eyes to mine, “Is it another girl?” I ask, swallowing the large lump drying in my throat.
“Yes,” he mumbles, and I step back, “but it’s not for the reasons you’re assuming,” he says, continuing to stand in place with the look of dread all over his face.
“Then who? Just tell me, Trey.” I keep my voice low and concerned. The last thing I need him to think is I’m accusing him of something.
“Let’s go,” he says, grabbing my hand and his keys.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He pulls me through the door. The boisterous laughs of the boys mixed with sounds of clinking bottles and poker chips being tossed fill the downstairs. Trey sneaks us through the front door and to his car. “Hey, Mrs. F.,” he hollers across the street and waves to the lady across the way who’s collecting her mail before opening his car door for me.
Silence fills the car, but his hand remains in mine, his thumb rubbing against my knuckles in a calming manner. I periodically glance at him while his eyes remain on the road ahead. How on earth can he be so relaxed? Oh yeah, he knows what he’s about to tell me. Thankfully, we only drive for ten minutes before he pulls into the historic house museum and country estate known for their numerous gardens, which occupy the acres of land.
He parks the car, and I can’t help put be confused why he would bring me here. As soon as I step out, the smell of flowery scents fill my nostrils and embeds in my mind. I can’t help but compare it to the perfume that rests in Trey’s drawer. Taking my hand once again, he meanders us through the parking lot and up to the landscaped hill. As we walk by a blooming cherry blossom a light sweet scent lofts in the air.
Trey’s hand hasn’t left mine since we exited the car, and his thumb keeps its motion across my knuckles. “This is nice,” I interrupt the silence, and his head turns my way, as though he forgot I was with him.
“Yeah, they just opened for the season a few weeks ago,” he tells me. “I come here a lot,” he continues. I kind of already figured that out with the way he has us winding around the paths with a purpose.
We finally end up in a large walkway filled with birch trees on each side. Small stones are embossed on the ground for us to follow. The trees loom over our heads and we suddenly become secluded from others. “Don’t you want to know why I come here?” he quietly asks me, his voice low and cautious.
“I figure you enjoy it, the peace,” I say hesitantly, not quite sure why we’re here, but I’ll wait as patiently as I can until he’s ready.
“The smell...the smell of the flowers takes me back to one of the happiest and saddest days of my life.” I look up at him and his face is blank, bearing no emotion. When I don’t speak, he begins again. “It’s similar to the smell of that perfume.” He finally glances down at me, pausing for me to agree. I nod wondering where on earth he’s going with this. “I want to tell you, I’ve wanted to for a while, but I don’t know what will happen, or how you’ll react.” He stops us in the middle of the walkway and peers left and right. Taking both my hands in his he stares directly into my eyes. His brown filled irises overcome with nervousness and worry as they dart up and down before focusing directly on mine. “I have a kid,” he reveals, and as hard as it is, I force my eyes to stay on his, taking a big breath. “I signed over my rights to her when I was seventeen,” he continues to divulge the information, and I hate it that a happiness fills me that I won’t have a baby mamma to contend with. “My girlfriend and I gave the baby up for adoption.”
“I can understand that,” I admit, and I’m being honest, I can. Knowing Trey he was selfless enough to realize he couldn’t give the baby the life it would need.
“Zoey couldn’t at first, but eventually she saw how much better off the baby would be. Since Zoey wouldn’t sign off right away, we got to spend two days with the baby until they arranged things with the family. It kills me every day, and there aren’t hours that she doesn’t cross my mind, but I know she’s healthier and happier than she would be if I would have kept her.”
“Healthier maybe, Trey, but just as happy,” I ease him. Just from witnessing him with the kids today, he’ll make a wonderful father one day, but it’s got to be very hard for a seventeen-year-old to give a child the financial and emotional stability they need.
“Thanks, so you don’t hate me and want to break-up?” he asks, and I gasp, amazed he thought I would.