Straddling the Line(47)

She gasped, horrified he'd think that of her. "Do you really think I'd  use something as personal as this to get ahead in my job?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, Haven. Would you?"

She wanted to slap him, but she knew it was hurt and defensiveness  causing him to lash out like this. "I wouldn't, and you know me. I would  never hurt you that way. I'm trying to help you."

"You can help me by canceling the event at the literacy center. Tell them there was a scheduling conflict."

She shook her head. "I think it would only help you to-"

"You've helped enough. We're done here."

He turned around and started up the stairs.

Haven read the finality in his statement. She dashed up and got in front  of him, laying her hand on his chest, forcing him to stop and face her.  "Done here? What do you mean?"

The severity in his expression cut her deeply. There was no warmth, no caring there. She saw . . . nothing.         

     



 

"I mean we're done. I have to concentrate on football, and you have  enough footage to finish up your interview. Why don't you pack it up and  leave."

And just like that, he was pushing her out of his life. She knew why, but it still hurt to hear him say the words.

"Trevor. Don't do this."

"You can stay tonight, but tomorrow I want you out of here."

"Don't. Please, don't. We can fix this together. I'll help you."

He didn't budge. She saw no emotion. It was like he'd completely closed  off from her, from feeling anything. "Haven. You need to go."

She'd never seen that look on his face, the way he'd just completely  shut down. Part of her wanted to push through, to refuse to leave until  he saw reason. The other part of her hurt so badly because he didn't  trust her, didn't care enough about her-about the both of them-to even  try.

She wanted to beg him to let her stay so she could help him through this.

But why? It was clear he wanted nothing more to do with her. He'd made  it nearly thirty years without her, and he intended to go without her.  He didn't need or want her help.

He didn't want her. And she sure as hell wasn't going to beg him to let her stay.

"Fine. I'll be gone in the morning."

He gave a short nod. "I think that's best."

"Me, too." She turned and went to her room and shut the door, then entered the bathroom and turned on the water in the sink.

She looked into the mirror, seeing the unshed tears shimmer in her eyes.

Screw Trevor. She was not going to cry over him.

She leaned over the sink to wash her face as big, fat tears slid down her cheeks.

Oh, damn. Maybe she was going to cry over him after all.





THIRTY-TWO




HAVEN STAYED UP LATE TO FILE HER LATEST PRODUCTION notes and photos and to make plane reservations.

It wasn't like she was going to get any sleep anyway.

She'd cried for an hour, miserable and unhappy and wishing like crazy  that Trevor would knock on her door and tell her he was an asshole and  beg her forgiveness.

Ha. That hadn't happened.

She'd made plane reservations, but not back to New York.

She took a flight to Oklahoma, and arrived at her mother's house the next evening.

Her mother was surprised to see her, and as soon as she saw her mom, the tears came again.

She hadn't wanted to cry in front of her mom. Her intent was to spend a  couple of days there, regroup emotionally, then be on her way.

"Oh, honey, what happened?" her mom asked after she'd let loose a  barrage of sobs and her mom sat with her on the sofa and comforted her  with hugs and tissues.

When she had finished crying, she told her mom about Trevor, about  letting her guard down and falling in love with him, about how he held  himself away from her emotionally, and then, because she trusted her  mother implicitly, she told her Trevor's secret.

"Wow," her mom said. "That's some painful secret to hold tight to for  all these years. And how that poor boy must be hurtin' inside."

Haven shook her head. "How could I not have seen it? I tutored him, Mom."

"Honey, you didn't see it because he was clever in hiding it. From you, and obviously, from everyone."

"How did he get through school unable to read? Through college?"

"He said he reads some, right?"

"Yes."

"And you've worked with kids with literacy issues before. You know how  easily they can slide through the system. Trevor's not dumb. He's very  smart."

Haven nodded. "Smart enough to game me, and probably his teachers through the years."

"Yes."

She was still trying to take it all in. Not just Trevor's literacy  issues, but him summarily throwing her out of his house-out of his life.

She took her things upstairs to her room and spent the first day sulking  and feeling utterly drained. She slept late, then got up and had  breakfast in town, went for a walk to clear her head, and did some work  at the house during the day. When her mom came home from work that day,  Haven helped her slice carrots and potatoes for dinner.

She had no more answers today than she had yesterday when she'd arrived.  She was still smarting from Trevor asking her to leave and didn't know  what to do about it. Her heart hurt, and it was an awful feeling she  simply didn't want to have. She wanted it all to go away.

She had to get back to work. She'd already spent way too much time  mourning her father. She wasn't going to let herself live in this state  of hurt again. Burying herself in work was the solution to all her  problems.         

     



 

"So now that you know Trevor's secret, what are you going to do about  it?" her mom asked as they stood side by side at the kitchen counter.

Haven paused, knife in her hand. "What am I going to do about it? Nothing."

Her mother slid her a look.

"What? He threw me out of his house. I begged him over and over again to  talk to me. I offered to help over and over again, too. And still, he  told me to leave. He threw me out."

"Haven. He's hurt. And obviously scared."

She wasn't buying it. She was hurt, too. "He had ample opportunity to talk to me, Mom. The bottom line is, he doesn't trust me."

Her mother laid down the paring knife she'd been using and leaned her  hip against the counter. "I know you're hurt. You care about him, so  you're lettin' your emotions cloud your judgment. You worked with people  like Trevor when you were in school. You know how defensive they got  when forced to face what they felt were inadequacies. Don't you think  that's exactly what Trevor did when you backed him up against the wall  and forced him to face the truth about himself?"

"I didn't-" But she had. She'd pushed him and pushed him until she'd  made him admit a secret he'd held on to for his entire life. He'd been  angry and upset and he'd lashed out at her. She'd seen it time and time  again during her undergraduate studies, when she'd worked with people  who had literacy issues. They got angry and defensive, a lot of times  with the people they cared about the most who were only trying to help  them.

Haven sighed. "This is hard. I care about him. But I can't help him if he won't let me in his life."

"Do you want to help him?"

"Of course I do."

Her mom picked up the knife and resumed chopping carrots. "Then you'll  figure out a way. If anyone can, Haven, it's you. I've never known  anyone more tenacious."

She thought about it as they prepped and then ate dinner, and long after her mom had gone to bed.

She'd let her own hurt and her own needs get in the way. She loved him,  and she hadn't told him that. Would it have made a difference? She  didn't know, but she should have tried. She'd walked away when she  should have stood her ground and stayed. She should have been a support  system to him, not a hindrance.

But maybe this break was good for both of them. Not for long, though.

She had to go back, had to make him understand that she would be there  for him if and when he decided he wanted help. Because she could help  him.

If anyone could, she could.

She wasn't going to give up on him.

And this time, she wasn't going to let him push her away.





THIRTY-THREE




THE GAME AT DALLAS HAD GONE OKAY. THEY'D WON, but only by a field goal.  And they hadn't won because of anything Trevor had done. In fact, he'd  downright sucked balls in this game. He'd dropped two passes, caught one  for short yardage, and otherwise would have done better acting as the  water boy on the sidelines for all the contributions he'd made to the  team.

Fortunately, his teammates had more than made up for his deficiencies, allowing them to at least stay in the game.

He felt like shit. He'd felt like shit before the game started, and the  two days before, when he'd come out of his room to find that Haven had  left.

Not that it should have surprised him to find her gone. He was the one  who'd asked her to leave. No. He hadn't even asked. He'd told her to  leave. Hell, he'd tossed her out, so what had he expected her to do? And  then, like a little boy, he'd run up to his room and locked himself  inside, scared and afraid that the world was going to find out his  secret.