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.