And so, what somehow — too quickly not to be thought odd, yet too distinct to be dismissed as strange — became our shared journey, continues, but now in an uncomfortable silence, made even more suffocatingly stiff for me when Trevor decides to get comfortable, freeing the top several buttons of his dress shirt and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. The maneuvering not only sends a waft of his crisp, manly scent over to assault my senses, but the few peeks I steal from the corner of my eye confirm that a “casual” Trevor Kincade is as sexy a sight as one can dare dream to ever behold.
And with the confirmation comes a ring of ridicule in my head… only a fool would deny themselves the chance at time spent with him, no matter the “label,” terms or ticking clock, Lily.
True, oh so true, but, as proven by my current desperate destination to which we race, I’m nothing if not a fool. And I refuse to change that, or let it become an aspect of myself for which I’m ashamed; because I’m not. Quite the opposite; I’m proud of who I am — a “silly-heart,” as my father’s always coined me, always smiling as he says it.
When I walk out of that courtroom tomorrow, hurt, betrayed, and tried to be made a fool by a man I loved freely, without forethought, caution, sense or reason — foolishly — I will do so with my head held high. The same Lily who walked in; the Lily I want to be. Open-minded, open-hearted, and open to one day, finding the kind of love I deserve.
Regardless of how others act, or the skepticism and disappointment the world does its best to impose, I am determined to stay silly. Foolish. Optimistic, always dreaming, with my wings ready and waiting to open and send me flying.
Yes, me, a grown woman — I believe in fairytales.
And even though everything he’s done up to this point has been nothing short of lavish, intoxicating… noble… deep down I know that Trevor Kincade is the anti-Prince Charming. At his core, the epicenter of traits to which he will always eventually return, he’s serious. Cynical. Composed. And… enchanting, in spite of himself.
One weekend with him, perhaps even only one night with him, and I’d fall in love. Of that, my silly heart is sure.
“What are you doing?” I ask Trevor when he starts to follow me toward the large, foreboding wooden doors of the courthouse.
“Lily.” He ducks his head just so; enough to level his eyes of ‘really?’ with mine, “I made it very clear that I’d be doing exactly this; accompanying you.”
“Trevor.” I sigh and shake my head, my frazzled nerves unequipped to deal with the demands of two men today, “As much as I appreciate all your help, your gallantry, it needs to stop. Now. This,” I motion between us, “has been an interesting, mysterious encounter that I’ll never forget, or regret, but… this where it ends. Where we part ways, with memories of that one time, that I know I will think of often.”
“Very good, beautiful. You were assertive, succinct, and your voice remained strong throughout. Now, use all that in there,” he points to the courthouse, “for it’s wasted on me. I don’t take well to being told what to do, sweet Lily, nor do I have any plans of parting, leaving you to face this alone.”
“Why?” My confusion bursts forth.
“Why what?”
I shake my head again, growing more confused and exhausted by the minute, and still having yet to face my biggest feat of the day. “Why do you care; let alone enough to stay? You’ve made it very clear we could never strive to be something meaningful, so why act as if I might mean something to you? Why invest any more time, effort, and what would appear to any normal person to be interest, in me when you could never truly care about me?”
He tilts his head, brows arching as though he’s surprised. “Where do you get these crazy notions of yours, Lily? At no point have I said I could never care for you. Why would I, when I already do?”
I should be concentrating on my divorce right now; it’s kind of a big deal, and happening in mere minutes, yet here I stand, unable to focus on anything other than the infuriating, intriguing, gorgeous man in front of me, speaking in riddles.
“Reynolds versus Reynolds,” a loud, authoritative voice echoes through the lobby, which I have to assume Trevor ushered me into at some point in my daze, drawing my eyes from said usher to the source.
All at once, realization hits me; it’s time. Our case is being called, and Ethan must already be waiting inside, because I don’t see him out here.
“That’s me,” my whisper of the obvious is strangled.
“So it is,” Trevor confirms, taking firm hold of both my shoulders. “You can do this, Lily. And once it’s over, you’ll never have to think about it again. I want you to go in there, and be brave and bold; then, you’re done. For good. I’ll be right beside you.”
I want to again scream ‘why?’ at him. Slap him. Hug him. But I only have time to turn, steel my shoulders, lift my chin, and place one foot in front of the other. Trevor opens the door for me; another heavy, gross misuse of trees — I dare say the gates to Heaven aren’t so boldly built — and I step inside. The courtroom is much bigger than I was expecting, and virtually empty, somehow making it seem even more enormous and imposing. Ethan sits with his lawyer at a table in the front, and turns to leer at me as I travel the center aisle.
I freeze in place, gauging the various exits, and to which is the shortest route, when a warm, comforting hand finds the small of my back and guides me forward, some of the owner’s natural confidence being shared with me.
“Mrs. Reynolds?”
“Yes, your Honor,” Trevor answers for me, helping me into a chair at the other, empty table at the front of the courtroom.
“And you are?” the judge asks him.
“Trevor Kincade.”
“Are you Mrs. Reynolds’ counsel?”
“Not legal counsel, your Honor, but I am here in an advisory capacity to assist Mrs. Reynolds.”
“That’s what lawyers are for, Mrs. Reynolds,” the judge admonishes me. “Your friend may have a seat behind you, and is not to speak aloud. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. I mean, your Honor,” I stammer then glare at Trevor, who just managed to make things worse. ‘Leave,’ I mouth to him, in the most silently scathing way possible, but he merely grins, and finds his seat directly behind me.