He didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”
“I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I’m sorry...” Trevor continued to repeat over and over through the line. His voice was low, sorrow pouring out of every, “I’m so sorry.”
“Where are you, Trev? Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“It’s okay.” No matter what happened, it would be okay. Simon would make sure of it. He wouldn’t walk away.
“I shouldn’t have called you. It’s wrong. Not after everything, but I need your help. I—” Trevor’s voice broke. “Fuck, why do I always screw up?”
His body shook. His muscles tight. “Yes, you should have called me, Trev. Only me. Always me.” As soon as the words were out, Simon realized how true they were. Whatever happened, whatever Trevor needed, Simon wanted to be there for him. In that moment, hearing the broken voice of the man he loved, having it settle inside every part of him, he realized he would do anything to make things okay—including forgiving him for being there that day. He needed Trevor healthy. Simon needed Trevor with him more than he needed his hand to heal, or to ever fix a heart again. Because without Trevor, Simon’s heart would always be broken. Trevor was the only one with the power to fix Simon’s.
Nothing else mattered. Simon needed Trevor to have a future.
“We’ll get through it. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it, Trev. I’m not leaving you. Tell me where you are.”
There was a pause before Trevor replied, “Room 201. The Hotel by the Bay... I need you to come and get me, and take me to rehab.”
Simon’s pulse dropped, stopped, but he meant what he said. “We’ll get through it. Stay on the phone with me, okay? I’m on my way.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Trevor couldn’t stop shaking. His whole body trembled uncontrollably. His heart beat faster than it ever had in his life. So fast he thought it might explode.
There was a knock on the door fifteen minutes later. Each minute had felt like twenty. He hated this. Hated that he had to call Simon, that Simon had to see him this way, but there was no one else he wanted to do this with. Just Simon. His legs were weak as he walked to the door. Trevor pulled it open, and then Simon was there, holding Trevor to his chest and saying, “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. It was me.” He’d been with Greg. He’d been weak, and walked out on Simon.
“I could have handled it better. I should have made sure you knew I was there for you.”
Trevor shook his head and pulled back, needing to take responsibility for himself. “I have to be able to deal. I have to be able to handle things on my own. If I can’t, then what kind of life do I have? I have to take responsibility, Simon. Of what happened to you, and what I’ve let my life become. I can’t blame other people.” Simon closed the door, but didn’t come closer.
In that part, Blake and his mom had been right. Trevor wasn’t ready for a relationship if he was going to break the second it got hard. “Maybe it was too soon.”
“No.” Simon said. “Not for me, and I don’t think so for you, either.” Simon stepped forward, cupped Trevor’s cheek, and Trevor wanted to live there, in that moment. He wanted everything else to drop away—but it couldn’t. Life didn’t work that way. He had to take the bad and the good. Everyone did.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Trevor closed his eyes. “I have to take some responsibility. I can’t say I played no part.” Before getting sober, he’d spent years doing that, not taking responsibility for his own life.
Trevor pulled back, watched Simon’s hand drop away and then went toward the bed. “I need to get rid of the stuff. I needed someone here with me when I did it. Then we can go.”
He felt Simon behind him. Shame burrowed into every crevice of Trevor at the things Simon saw—an open bottle of whiskey—but still full. Not one single drink taken from it. Heroin, a needle...
“You didn’t take it?” Simon’s voice sounded far away even though he was close.
“No. None of it. But I bought it. I almost took it. It took everything inside of me not to.”
“But you didn’t. You’re here, and you called me. Give yourself some credit, Trevor. You don’t know all of the things you’re capable of. What you’ve accomplished. What you give your family. What you give me. You think you took my life from me, too, but you didn’t...you gave me one.”
