He hadn’t meant it. I knew that. It must be horrific, being caged in that head of his. Things that came so easy to me were foreign and strange to him. But giving up on him just because he couldn’t say it, the things he was feeling, was out of the question.

And I couldn’t give up now.

Sunday did not go as Trent and I had planned.

After he’d spent the night sleeping in the waiting room while I went in and out of my mother’s hospital room, he drove home to take a shower and pick up Luna from Camila’s and drop her off with his parents, who’d gotten back into town from Vegas.

I used the opportunity to head home for a shower and a snack. My mother had come to in the middle of the night. She was awake, but hardly coherent. We’d spoken while Trent waited outside. She told me how my father walked in, late Saturday afternoon and broke the news to her like he was delivering an obituary for a long-distance relative. How he didn’t even care when the divorce papers he’d placed on the table in front of her were so wet with her tears, you couldn’t read a sentence of them.

I took a long, scorching hot shower, slipped into a loose yellow summer dress, then ate a quiet, lonely breakfast at the kitchen table. Granola, yogurt, and coconut water.

My house was part of a gated community in an exclusive Todos Santos neighborhood called La Vista. In order to get in, you needed a code, or to know the sleepy guards at the gate. That’s why, at first, I didn’t pay attention to the honking outside my house. I assumed it was a friend of the teenage boy across the road and cursed them inwardly for being so loud on a Sunday morning.

Beep, beep. Beeeeeeep.

I hated teenagers. I didn’t even care that I was technically one of them. I dumped the bowl of yogurt into the sink, not feeling like washing it, but then thought the better of it. I could leave it for the housekeepers, but I was never that person. No matter how much my parents took them for granted. I started washing the bowl, feeling my body sagging with the weight of the world.

Beep, beeeeeeep, beeeeeeeeeeep.

Where the hell was Adrian, the guy who lived across the street? Usually, he all but jumped out of his second-story window to go out with his friends. I sulked quietly as I dried the bowl and the glass I’d used, moving toward the door.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beeeeeeeeeep, beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

Reaching the end of my nerves, I flung the door open, my eyes already squeezed shut and the shriek leaving my mouth. “This is a quiet neighborhood on a Sunday morning! Keep it down, will you?”

“Not a fucking chance. I have a reputation to live up to.”

I popped my eyes open, staring at Trent in his black Tesla, wearing a plain white T-shirt and a beanie that didn’t look stupid at six o’clock in the morning, when the desert chill was still gripping. God, he was gorgeous.

“What are you doing here?” I blinked.

He threw his car into park, got out, and walked over to me, taking my hand. It looked foreign and dangerous, having him do that. So natural, but also so reckless. My father could still drop by to get something from the house. Not to mention my neighbors had big mouths and he’d probably gotten everyone’s attention with his honking. If Trent was feeling like breaking our rules, he needed to talk to me about it first. Because I still had everything to lose.

I took a step back. “No. What’s happening?” I frowned. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I second that statement, and yet I am. Come with me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I need to go be with my mom.”

“It’s a brilliant idea,” he retorted. “Your mom is stable, and she’ll be sleeping for the majority of the morning, probably. I have a surprise.”

A surprise. It made my heart lift and twinge with guilt. He was trying to be nice to me, and I’d pretty much admitted I’d screw him over the minute he’d let me. I really was his Delilah. But the worst part was that in the end, it was Samson who had won. Not her. Because sneaky, shady people always end up losing the fight, even if they did win the small battles.

“Trent…”

“I got you a visitation permit for Theo,” he cut in, hope sneaking into his hardened face. I blinked at him, perplexed. I’d never seen him look like this. Like a buoyant kid.

“H…how?”

“Your father is not the only person in the world with connections.”

“You will need to elaborate.”

“Sonya.”

Sonya. I immediately gave him a funny look, taking a step back. He rolled his eyes and grabbed me by the arm, ushering me to his car. I was lucky to have my Dr. Martens on, or else he’d probably have taken me barefoot.

“Calm your tits, Tide. She is Luna’s therapist. She knows people who know people who make things happen. And she has a very big heart.”

“And big tits to match,” I couldn’t help but bite out.

“That’s true.” He chuckled, hurling me into the passenger seat like he loved doing so much. He slammed the door and rounded the car, starting it.

He drove out of Todos Santos toward San Diego, meaning he was going to accompany me on my visit to Theo. I didn’t even have my purse with me. Just my phone and keys. The town flashed by, and neither of us said a word for a while, before I finally caved in.

“Are you still seeing her?” I asked.

He stared at the road, smirking to himself, like he took pleasure in watching me squirm. After a purposeful beat, he said, “What’s it to you?”

“You asked me not to have sex with Bane anymore. I’m trying to figure out how much of a hypocrite you are,” I answered honestly.

“I’m the mother of all hypocrites, Edie. If I wanted to fuck other people while I was fucking you, I would.” It felt like a punch straight to my heart, even when he added, “But I don’t. I haven’t. You’re the only one I want right now, and you keep me goddamn busy, so don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”

“That was the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever received.” I blew out air.

“We both know you don’t deserve more than that.”

It was true. I was after him.

We spent the rest of the drive in the silence I deserved and he loved so much to give.

“You really don’t have to come with me,” I mumbled, as Trent and I walked into the reception building of Big Heart Village. It looked warm, woody, cabin-like, only five hundred times bigger. The receptionist, Samantha, was a meaty woman in her early fifties with jazzy red curls and feline reading glasses with a jungle pattern. Her clothes were out of control weird like colorful tents. I loved it.

“Edie!” she exclaimed, standing up from her station and hugging me across the counter. I returned the hug, feeling my shoulders melting into relaxation. Trent was behind me. He still hadn’t responded about staying at the reception while I visited Theo, but I was hoping he’d join us. I wasn’t ashamed of my brother. Come to think of it, he was the only member of my immediate family I was actually proud of.

“What happened yesterday?” Samantha pushed her glasses up her nose, silently opening a bag of chips and offering me some. I shook my head, inhaling deeply before I answered.

“My friend here”—I pointed at Trent, who slid off his beanie and looked around nonchalantly—“had this barbecue thing, and his kid needed a babysitter, and so…” I was stumbling over my words, making it painfully awkward again. Samantha ran her eyes over Trent, assessing him. She saw what I saw. What every woman in the world did.

“Your friend looks like trouble.” The corner of her lip twitched upward.

“Trust me.” He took a step forward, dumping his designer beanie onto the reception desk with a smirk. “You have no idea. My acquaintance Sonya said we could visit Theodore real quick? Seeing as Edie wasn’t able to yesterday.” He tilted his body toward her, and his muscular arm brushed mine. It sent a current of warmth to my lower belly and made me grin despite my best efforts.

“Yes. We have written instructions from Mr. Van Der Zee that Theodore is not to be visited on any other day than Saturday, but considering his file hasn’t been updated in two years, and seeing as Mr. Van Der Zee has failed to visit his son in this period of time, social services has decided to open a case on this minor at Sonya‘s request. I am actually quite grateful, Mr…?”

“Rexroth,” he provided, flashing her a cool, good-enough-for-porn grin.

“Yes. The only person who seems to care about this kid is his sister. Big Heart Village firmly believes that the mental and physical health of its residents comes first. I’m familiar with Sonya and was glad to hear she was able to pull a few strings. You will have to see him with a caretaker present, but thank the Lord, it is possible. Now, you take a seat. Gustav will be right here and take you to see Theo.”

We both walked over to the couches with the scratchy, yellow fabric and sat down. Trent was messing around on his phone, while I was trying hard not to cry at what he’d done for me. How could a person be so cruel and compassionate at the same time?

“Thank you.”

He was still staring hard at his phone. “You’ve been there for Luna. It’s only fair I’d be there for Theo.”

“Yes, but you don’t have to physically stay with me. This is not your mess.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

“Wrong how?” I cleared my throat.

This time he looked up from his phone, something rather than ice and wrath swimming in his eyes. “I wish you weren’t my mess, Van Der Zee. I really wish you were just a dirty little fuck.”

“Edie?” a voice called from above our heads. It was Gustav, the nice, Swedish caretaker who was assigned to Theo. He was waving at me, standing on the other end of the reception—not the entrance, the exit to the picnic area, with the door open. “He is waiting for you. Come on.”

The one thing I was worried about was that Trent wouldn’t be able to understand Theo. His speech was slurred and slow, so you really had to pay attention to know what he was saying, but Trent and Theo clicked immediately.