by Nia Arthurs
“What is it?” Edward stepped forward.
“None of your business,” Trenton said, clicking off the tab that held his conversation. He hadn’t been forthright with the details of his separation from Breana, and thankfully, his father hadn’t pried.
Trenton didn’t want to change that now.
“What do you need, Dad?”
“Jamison just showed me the Annual Tourism Awards invitation.”
“That’s great.”
“You have to go.”
“I know.”
“While you’re there, make sure to pay attention to the investors. We tend these relationships like a garden. No flower goes un-watered.”
“Got it.”
Edward stopped and tilted his head. “Are you just saying that to get me to leave?”
Trenton came around his desk and nudged his father toward the door. “I thought we agreed that you’d be a silent partner.”
“I’m just offering advice.”
“I’ve got it handled.”
“That’s debatable.”
“When are you going back to the States? Mom probably misses you.”
Edward’s eyes trailed to a corner of the room. “I doubt that.”
Trenton froze, detecting a strange note in his father’s voice. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing, son.” Edward turned to leave, and Trenton snatched his arm to keep him from walking through the door.
“Did you have a fight?”
“You know me and your mother. We don’t fight.”
“Mom’s over there doing treatments on her own.”
“She’s not on her own. You know how the hospital staff treats her. She’s like family.”
“We’re her family,” Trenton hissed.
“Son, go back to what you were doing—”
“No,” Trenton insisted. “I’ve been looking the other way for weeks because Mom begged me not to make a fuss, and I thought… I thought you were trying to be there for me.”
“Well…”
“But I’m not blind. I know something’s wrong, so either you tell me about it, or I’m flying up to Mom and asking her myself.”
“Don’t you dare bother her. She’s got enough on her plate.”
“Dad—”
“We’re getting a divorce.”
Time stopped. Silence invaded. Trenton was twenty-seven years old, but the news hit him like a ton of bricks. He hadn’t been unaware of his family’s issues. They’d shaped his worldview.
Still, he had always known that his parents would last because of their devotion to maintaining appearances.
“D-divorce?” Trenton shook his head. “What do you mean ‘divorce’?”
“Are you unfamiliar with the concept? It means were splitting up. Kaput. Over.”
“You’re joking. What about all your talk about duty? Keeping your promises? You taught me that!”
“It was hard enough to get married to someone I didn’t love,” Edward explained, rubbing the back of his neck in the same manner that Trenton often did. “We’ve given it our best shot, but sometimes, those feelings never come. We didn’t want to make it official until your mom was back, and we could tell you together. I’m sorry, son.”
Trenton staggered a step as his father patted his shoulder and left the office. If he’d been run over with a Mack truck it wouldn’t have made such an impact.
Divorced? Really?
The high from his reconnection with Breana seeped out of his body, and he leaned against the desk. If his parents, who’d been together for almost thirty years, called it quits, what hope did he have for his own marriage?
Chapter 9
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A voice squawked over the intercom speakers, reminding the patients that they had only ten minutes left to visit with their loved ones before the last counseling session of the day.
Breana sat in the padded oval chair in the luxurious residential facility. A frown pulled at her expression as she looked at the woman sitting across from her. Merna Moore had seen better days. Her hair, braided neatly in cornrows across her scalp, and the neat polo shirt and khakis did little to hide the effects of the detoxification process.
Having been a drug addict for many years, Merna’s dependency on illegal (and some legal) substances had severely altered her brain’s composition. She had suffered from a myriad of withdrawal symptoms, all of which had turned her face haggard and worn.
“At least one of us looks like they’re doing better,” Merna said with a cough.
Breana shyly touched her hair and tried to refrain from grinning. Her mother was going through a hard time. The least she could do was not rub her present happiness in her face.
“What is it?” Merna asked, leaning back and folding her arms across her chest. “Lay it on me. Did you win the lottery or something?”
“I’ve actually been talking to Trenton a lot these past two weeks.”
“Really?” Merna’s lips tilted up. “That’s the best news I’ve heard since you locked me in here.”
“Very funny, Mom.”
“Go on.”
“There’s not much to tell. I messaged him and he answered. We’ve been talking every night. He called me last Friday, so we’ve been spending every free minute talking on the phone.”
“Look at you!” Merna pointed at Breana’s bright eyes. “You’re about to burst. What made you reach out in the first place? I thought you were dead set against going back to him until you ‘figured things out’.”
Breana shrugged. “I missed him.”
“Ah, at least one of us is enjoying life.”
“Don’t worry, Mom. You’ll be out of here soon. The director said you’re doing well.”
Merna grunted. “It’s not like this is high school. It’s going to be tougher when I’m out of here.”
“That’s why I’ll be right by your side every step of the way.”
“Go on and ‘figure things out’ with your husband before you worry about me.”
“I’m glad you said that… because I was actually thinking of returning Belize for a bit.”
“Oh?” Merna grinned. “Any particular reason?”
“I want to check out the Lobster Fest.”
Merna’s eyebrows rose. “Lobster Fest?”
“It’s a real exciting festival in the cayes where they have live lobsters on display and the restaurants sell lobster dishes for reduced prices. The beach is set up with all the vendors and steel pans play to the rhythm of the breeze—”
“I know what lobster fest is,” Merna grumbled. “Are there any lobsters named ‘Trenton Lorde’ by chance?”
“Five minutes,” the intercom boomed.
“Why do I feel like I’m visiting you in prison?” Breana mused, glaring at the speakers.
“At least in prison, there are underground lines where you can buy a lighter and some herbs.”
“Mom!”
“What? I’m not going to lie. I would give anything for a blaze right now.”
“I’m glad to know you’re making progress.”
“The fact that I haven’t tried to escape this place is progress enough.” Merna tapped her fingers on the desk and got serious. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
“Uh-oh.”
“I don’t know if I’ll have enough time,” Merna said, glancing nervously at the clock on the wall.
“I’ll make sure to visit you before I go, Mom,” Breana said. “If I go.”
“Okay,” Merna nodded. “You do that.”
“Is it very important?”
“No, of course not. It’s nothing. Be safe out there.”
“I will. I’ll call you.”
“Tell Trenton I said hello.”
Breana nodded and waved before walking out the door.
She took her time strolling the streets. The city was bustling with life as children walked home after a grueling day at school. Vendors rode by, blasting their horns
and inviting passersby to taste their wares.
Breana waved a peddler down to purchase two steaming tamales. She’d been living on the tasty meals when Ramen got a little too redundant. There were only so many ways she could use noodles to fill her appetite.
Though the first half of her payment from Trenton had paid for her mother’s care at the facility, her subsequent decision to move to Guatemala put a severe damper on her purse strings.
She could barely afford to make rent every month, much less splurge on groceries.
Not that Breana was complaining. As she’d spent most of her life living without much in the way of material things, it wasn’t hard to return to her roots. Having a roof over her head and food on the table was enough to be thankful for.
For the rest of the day, Breana puttered around cleaning up the apartment. She did her laundry. Watched a Guatemalan telenovela that was riveting as much as the language barrier allowed. Warmed her tamales in the microwave and ate it.
As soon as six o’clock rolled around, she raced to her bed and set up her laptop, checking to make sure the power was plugged in to avoid any unfortunate cases of surprise shut downs.
Seeing that everything was set, Breana waited impatiently for the little green bubble on her screen to burst to life. When at last it did, bringing the sweet sound of a ringtone with it, she fixed her hair and pressed the button.
Trenton’s face filled the screen. She took a moment to breathe him in, her eyes roving his forehead, his sculpted jaw, and his full lips. The more she connected with him through her phone and laptop, the more she longed to see him in person.
Whether it was loyalty or love, Breana really couldn’t say anymore.
“Hey,” he said and her chest filled with warmth, “how was your day?”
It was the statement that usually opened the floodgates between them, but Breana hesitated before diving into their usually warm banter. Something was off with Trenton.
She’d noticed it when they first reconnected over video messaging, but had refrained from asking about it. Now that the jitters had worn off and they had mostly returned to a place of comfortable honesty, she was unwilling to continue brushing it under the rug.
“Are you okay, Trenton?”
“Me?” He looked surprised. “I’m fine.”
“Then why do I get the feeling that you’re lying to me?” She adjusted her screen. “What’s up?”
He stared straight at the camera. “Do you think there’s a chance for us?”
Surprised by the question, she took a while to answer. “Us? What do you mean?”
“After all we’ve been through, no—after how we started, do you think we can make it? Be honest with me.”
“Where is this coming from?”
Trenton paused. “I miss you.”
Taken aback by the complete avoidance of her question, Breana hesitantly replied. “I miss you too.”
“Then prove it,” Trenton said with a determined nod.
“What?”
“I need to see you. I need to look into your eyes so that I can get a moment of peace.”
“Trenton—”
“Meet me in two days at the Belize City Bus Terminal.”
“Is that an order?” Breana asked, her hackles rising.
“Woman! Listen to me! If there’s any part of you that wants us to work out… come to me. I’m not asking for us to do anything more than stand in the same place and breathe the same air.”
“And what if I don’t?”
He sighed, his eyes taking on a peculiar kind of sadness. “Then I’ll have my answer.”
“To what?”
“To whether or not we can make it.”
“Trenton, what kind of ultimatum is this?”
“I hope I see you there, Bree,” Trenton said, his voice cracking. “I really hope I see you.”
He hung up. Breana gripped the laptop until her fingers felt like they’d fall off. How dare Trenton make demands on her! They were going at a perfectly appropriate pace.
She should stay put just to spite him for thinking he could boss her around and order her to come and go. Breana set the laptop away and folded her arms over her chest, straining to maintain her temper.
The thought that she’d be throwing away something very precious if she allowed her stubbornness to rule her tiptoed through her mind, and Breana found that she couldn’t hold on to her pride this time.
Two roads opened before her, and Trenton only stood at the end of one of them. Was it worth it? Was she ready to return to him? And what would she lose if she didn’t show up on time?
Breana scrambled to her feet and started packing her bags, mumbling about her bossy, frustrating, mind-boggling husband that she couldn’t help but adore.
Chapter 10
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On the appointed day, Trenton got ready for work in the throes of nervous agitation. He shouldn’t have put his foot down and demanded Breana return to Belize two days ago. She shirked authority and seemed to have a unique habit of defying him.
What if she remained in Guatemala to prove a point? The thought was anxiety inducing, and his blood pressure skyrocketed. Trenton flipped the coin, contemplating what would happen if she did show up. Should he convince her to stay? Would she want to?
He swung his pen around and around on the tips of his fingers and stared out the window at the Belizean skyline. There were plenty of coconut trees and very little buildings obstructing the view.
A stack of files gathered dust on his desk and his email was flooded with inquires, but they barely blipped on his radar.
Since he’d reconnected with his wife, Trenton’s momentum at work had declined considerably. He was still getting very little sleep, but the bit of shut-eye that he managed to fit in was much sweeter—at least as much as it could be without Breana beside him.
With his parent’s marriage on the rocks, he’d felt an urgency to get his own together. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Breana, and as much as taking it slow had kept them in a comfortable lane, it was time to take things up a notch.
“Sir,” Jamison appeared in the doorway, “there’s someone here to see you.”
Trenton checked the time on his watch. “Who is it? I have a very important appointment at three this afternoon.”
“So you’ve mentioned quite often, sir.”
“Are you being snarky, Jamison?”
“Never, sir.”
“Why are you announcing the guy like this?” Trenton asked, craning his neck to see past the door. “Is he the Prime Minister or something?”
“Not the Prime Minister, but he seems to be a special visitor, sir,” Jamison said, his dark eyes betraying nothing.
“Well… who is it?”
“His name is William Stamp.”
Trenton arched an eyebrow. “I don’t know that name.”
“He says… he’s Breana Moore’s father.”
Trenton’s eyes snapped up and he drilled Jamison with a frightened stare. “Did he really?”
“I am aware that Ms. Moore was raised, if we can call it that, by her mother.”
“You’re being snarky, Jamison.”
“Again, my apologies, sir. Should I tell him that you’re busy?”
“Do you know what he wants?”
“No, sir, but if it is Mrs. Lorde’s biological father, he’s chosen quite a time to make himself known.”
Trenton nodded thoughtfully. “You have a point.”
“Will you see him?”
“Yes, let him in. I can at least hear what he has to say.”
“Very well, sir.” Jamison brushed the lapels of his jacket and spoke in a deadpan tone. “If, in the course of your conversation, you feel the need to physically reprimand Mr. Stamp for abandoning his responsibilities, I’ll have Ms. Haley Li on standby.”
Trenton chuckled. “Thank you, Jamison, but I don’t think I’ll need Haley’s legal council today.”
“It was simply a su
ggestion, sir. I’ll bring him in.” Jamison disappeared and a few moments later, Breana’s father walked in.
He was a man of average height with a full head of black hair that was shaved low at the sides. He wore an impressively fashionable white button-down shirt with pressed black pants and shiny black shoes.
Trenton looked down at his own wrinkled shirt and trousers. They wore virtually the same outfit and yet he felt distinctly underdressed.
“Good afternoon, sir,” William Stamp said, offering his hand. The gold watch on his wrist glittered in the sunlight streaming through the windows.
“Uh, good afternoon,” Trenton replied. He released the man’s hand and indicated the chair across from his desk. “Please have a seat.”
William sat with a sigh and glanced around the office. “This is a nice place you’ve got here.”
“Thank you.”
The men stared awkwardly at the items in the room, doing their best to keep their gazes away from each other. Trenton didn’t know where to start. Shouldn’t this initial meeting have been done with Breana and Merna instead of with him?
“Is there anything I can help you with?” he asked, when it seemed that William was quite settled in the silence.
“Right.” William clapped his hands and scooted to the edge of his seat. “You must be wondering why I’m here. It’s… actually a funny story.”
“I’m sure it is.”
William licked his thick lips. “A few months ago, I went to see Merna.”
“Breana’s mother?” Trenton clarified to make sure they were on the same page.
“Yes. It’s been a while, as you can imagine. She looked terrible!” William’s booming laughter was met with little encouragement, as Trenton was not amused. Shakily, the older man continued. “Anyway, I went to see her wondering what she had told Breana about me.”
Trenton nodded along with the story, his mind whirring. His mother-in-law had given him no indication that she had met with Breana’s father. Though, to be fair, two months ago, he hadn’t been communicating that much with Merna.
“Apparently,” William’s voice drew Trenton out of his thoughts, “she told her it was a one-night stand.”
“I’m guessing that it wasn’t?”