Chapter 11: His Side of the Bed

Two hundred phones were pointed at me, and I knew exactly what the clip would look like.

A woman in a green dress, a husband on a bench, and another man's hand sliding off her back.

Nolan's hand left me slowly.

It was in the rules.

I held my juice cup in both hands and let my chin shake a little.

"Okay," I said.

The room let out its breath.

"Okay, Trevor. Let's go home."

Trevor jumped off the bench and gathered me into his arms in front of everyone.

He smelled like Bianca's perfume.

Over his shoulder I saw Bianca, standing stiff in her red dress with a face like a slammed door.

Beyond her I saw Nolan, and his eyes found mine and held.

I didn't look away from him until Trevor turned me toward the exit.

In the truck, Trevor kept hold of my hand the whole way home.

"You don't know what that meant to me," he said. "Standing up there. You coming back."

"I know."

"We'll start over. A real start. You, me, the house."

"I need the guest room, Trevor."

"Not tonight." He kissed my knuckles. "Everyone saw. If you sleep down the hall, they'll say it's all a show."

It was all a show.

I smiled at him and said, "Fine."

I lay in his bed in the dark with my back to him and my eyes open.

He put his arm over my waist.

He was asleep within ten minutes.

At one o'clock my phone lit under the pillow.

"I'm outside," Nolan had written. "I didn't know where else to be."

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