He Loves Me Not: Lily’s Story, Book 1 (9 page)

T
he sun shone
brightly on Thanksgiving morning, and when I woke, excitement cascaded over me. I’d invited Trevor to spend the day with me, and he’d been as enthusiastic about the idea as I’d been.

Lately I’d worn the engagement ring when I was home by myself, but for this day I’d decided to leave it off—I didn’t want Trevor to get the wrong idea. After placing it in one corner of my jewelry box, I went into the kitchen and prepared the turkey to go in the oven. I’d bought the smallest one I could find, and I placed it in the oven before starting to chop up vegetables for a veggie tray.

Trevor had been working a lot lately and I hadn’t had a chance to have a serious talk with him yet. Today I would have him all to myself, uninterrupted, for an extended period of time. Today I would get the answers to my questions.

When Trevor arrived just before noon, I threw my arms around his neck, and he slid one arm around my waist. In his other hand he held a lovely bouquet of flowers.

“I love when you greet me like that,” he murmured in my ear.

Pulling back slightly, I raised an eyebrow. “Then I guess you need to come over more often.”

“You know I would if I could.” He held out the flowers. “These are for you.”

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” Impressed with his thoughtfulness, I took the arrangement and carried it into the kitchen where I placed it in a vase, then I turned to him. “I know you come over when you can.”

He drew me into his arms. “That’s right.” Using one finger, he tilted my chin upwards, then he pressed his lips to mine. After a lingering kiss, he said, “I would definitely prefer to do that than to work, but I’ve gotta pay the bills somehow.”

I laughed. “Like my Dad used to say, ‘Another day, another dollar.’”

“Exactly.” His gaze went to the dish I’d been making. “Do you need help with that?”

“No. I’m almost done.”

“What is it?”

I laughed. “Can’t you tell?”

With a small frown, he said, “No.” Then he looked apologetic. “Sorry.”

“No reason to apologize. It’s a sweet potato casserole, but I like to cook it in the crock-pot so that I can keep the oven free for other dishes.”

He nodded with obvious approval. “Clever.”

“Thanks.” Once I’d started the casserole cooking in the crock-pot, I took the veggie tray out of the refrigerator. “Let’s sit on the couch.”

“Okay.” He reached for the tray. “Let me carry that for you.”

Pleased that he was being considerate, I handed it over, then followed him to the couch where we sat side by side.

We chatted about our week as we munched on the vegetables, but then he turned serious.

“In my family we have a tradition of telling what we're thankful for,” he said. “Did yours do that?”

“Yes,” I said with a smile. “But we usually waited until we were at the dinner table.”

“We did too, but I'd like to share my thoughts with you now, if that's okay.”

I nodded and waited for him to begin.

Taking my hand gently in his, he gazed into my eyes. “I'm thankful for you, Lily. I can't believe how happy I've been since I met you. You're everything I've always imagined the perfect woman would be. That's why I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” His voice quieted. “Have you decided yet?”

Worried that he wouldn’t like what I had to say, my stomach churned. “Oh, Trevor, I love you, too. So much. But . . .”

He let go of my hand. “But, what?” He dragged his hands through his hair. “Please don't tell me no.”

I scooted closer to him. “I'm not saying no. I haven't decided yet. That's all.”

He released a breath of air, and then a smile slowly curved his mouth. “Oh, is that all? I can deal with that, I guess. And I don't want to pressure you, but do you have any idea when you might make a decision? I can hardly stand the uncertainty.”

Holding back a sigh, I pushed my hair behind my ear. “Give me another week. Does that sound reasonable to you?”

“Yes, it does.” He pulled me into his arms, and when I lay my head against his chest, I heard the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The closeness of his body warmed me, but after a few moments I sat up, ready to begin the conversation I’d been putting off.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, my cell phone rang. I glanced toward the coffee table where my phone continued to ring.

“Aren't you going to get that?” Trevor asked.

Resigned to the interruption, I picked up my phone and saw the call was from Alyssa, who was at her parents’ house for the holiday. “Hello?”

“Hi, Lily. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Thanks, Alyssa. Same to you.”

We chatted for a minute, and I tried to keep the rest of the conversation brief. “Okay, I'll see you on Monday,” I said before hanging up.

The mood with Trevor broken, I decided to wait for another opening before talking to him about my concerns.

We enjoyed a relaxing afternoon as we waited for the turkey to finish cooking, and when it was ready, Trevor helped me get everything finished and then he set the tiny table. There were only two chairs and so little room on the table that we had to leave most of the food on the counter.

“This is delicious, Lily,” Trevor said, his mouth nearly full. He swallowed his food before continuing. “I had no idea you were such a great cook. My mom can't cook at all, and my dad isn't much better, so Thanksgiving was usually pretty interesting.”

“You've never told me much about your family, Trevor. All I remember you telling me is that you have two older brothers. And of course that you're from Las Vegas.”

“What else do you want to know?” he asked as he helped himself to some more sweet potatoes.

“I don't know. How about, what do your parents do for a living?”

“My dad was a high school math teacher and my mom's a housewife. My dad's retired now. I was kind of unexpected and they had me late in life. They're in their sixties now.”

“That’s something we have in common. My parents were older when they had me, although I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”

“It must’ve been hard for you to take care of your father for so long. Especially without anyone to help you.”

“It was. But it was a gradual thing. At first he just seemed forgetful and I had to remind him about a lot of things. But eventually it became clear that there was something more wrong with him.”

“Why didn’t you just put him in a home or something?”

“I couldn’t do that to him. Ever since my mother died, he’d always put me first. I felt I needed to do the same for him.”

“I don’t know if I could’ve done that. I love my parents and everything, but I just don’t know if I could make that kind of sacrifice.”

I didn’t want to talk about my father anymore—thinking about him saddened me. “Speaking of your parents,” I said instead, “weren't they upset that you didn't come home for Thanksgiving?”

He took another bite of turkey before answering. “I guess so. I was planning on coming home for Christmas though.”

“Oh.” I hesitated. “Have you told them about me?”

His face lit up at the question. “Yeah, of course. They're dying to meet you.” He began buttering a roll, but stopped and looked at me. “Hey! Why don't you come home with me for Christmas? That would be perfect.”

The idea had its appeal. After all, I had nowhere else to go. I’d been planning on staying here by myself, so the thought of spending Christmas with Trevor’s family sounded much better. “Yes, I'd like that.”

“Sweet,” Trevor said as a wide smile curved his mouth.

Seeing how happy my answer made him, I was doubly glad I’d accepted his invitation.

W
hen we were too stuffed
to eat another bite, we cleared the dishes.

“I know what I'll be having for dinner for the next week,” I said with a laugh.

“You can always send some home with me,” he said as he helped me put the leftovers in plastic containers. “I'd be happy to take any extra food off of your hands.”

“Good. Take as much as you’d like.”

Once the dishes were washed, Trevor suggested we take a walk. “I need to burn off some of those calories,” he said.

I admired his muscular body, then I nodded. “Yeah, you don’t want to let yourself go.”

Laughing, he took my hand and led me out the front door.

The day was crisp but clear as we strolled down the street. It was a quiet neighborhood and we enjoyed the peacefulness that surrounded us, walking for nearly an hour before turning back.

By the time we arrived back at my apartment, it was getting dark. “Are you ready for pie and ice cream,” I asked. “Or do you want to wait a while?”

“I'm always ready to eat. Just let me know when you're ready.” He sprawled on the couch.

I perched next to him, then laughed. “Are you comfortable?” I shoved his legs over to make room.

“Sorry,” he said as he scooted over. When I sat beside him, he began rubbing my back.

“Mmm, that feels good. Slaving over a hot stove makes my back tired sometimes.”

“Just wait until we're married,” he said, “I don't expect you to do all of the cooking. I like to cook sometimes.”

I turned to face him. “Really? That's nice to know.”

With a smug smile, he asked, “Does that mean you'll marry me?”

I laughed. “Oh yeah, that just clinched it.”

He leaned close to me. “Will you, Lily? Please tell me you will.”

Knowing this was my second opportunity to question him, and hoping for no interruptions, I plunged ahead. “Trevor, there are some things I need to know about you before I can make a decision. Serious things.”

“Okay, I can understand that.”

“Will you be honest with me?”

His forehead wrinkled. “I’ll be as honest as I can.”

“I’ve made kind of a mental list of questions, but I hope this doesn’t sound like an interrogation.”

“Okay. I’m ready, I guess.”

I smiled, glad to finally resolve questions I’d had. “How do you feel about children? Like, do you want to have them?”

“Yeah, sure. I guess so. Honestly, I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Well, I do want to have children someday. And I want to make sure we’re on the same page when it comes to important things like that.”

“I’m sorry, Lily. I just haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Okay. I guess I understand that. But what about your future? Like, what do you plan on doing with your degree? Have you thought about career goals?”

He let out an audible sigh as he drew away from me. “Do we really have to go into this now?”

“It's been bothering me, Trevor. I need to know the kind of man I'm considering marrying.”

At the mention of the word marriage, he nodded. “Okay. Eventually I’d like to open my own auto-body shop.”

Now we’re getting somewhere. Now’s the time to get the answer I’ve been most concerned about.

I pulled the picture that I’d found in my dresser out of my pocket and handed it to him. “What do you know about this picture?”

He studied the image of himself with a disembodied hand wrapped around his waist. “Fine. I suppose you deserve to know all my deep, dark secrets.”

I laughed nervously, wondering if I really wanted to know the truth. I loved him right now. Would the truth destroy that?

He leaned against the couch cushions and was quiet as he stared at the picture. “I was telling you the truth before. I really don't remember the picture being taken.” He glanced at me before studying the picture again. “I'm pretty sure that was one of the days I got drunk.”

My heart raced, and I didn't say a word.

Trevor closed his eyes as if he didn't want to face me directly in his confession. “Rob and me, sometimes we like to have a few beers after work, party a little. That’s why I haven’t come by after work most nights. I knew you’d be able to tell.”

Wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, I asked, “Why didn't you tell me this sooner?”

His eyes opened and he gazed at me. “What? And take a chance on losing you? I know how you feel about drinking. You wouldn’t have given me the time of day if you’d known this before.” He leaned toward me and took my hand in his. “I love you so much, Lily. I couldn’t take a chance on losing you.”

“You’ll stop partying now though, right?”

He stared at me for a moment. “Yeah, of course.”

His hesitation worried me. “Remember last week when you gave me the ring?”

“Like I could forget,” he said with a smile.

“Well, I remember you saying you’d do anything for me.” I gazed at him. “Do you recall saying that?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I guess so. Where’s this leading?”

“You must realize that there’s no way I’d marry a man who parties.” My voice softened. “You do realize that, don’t you?”

His smile turned bitter. “I do now.”

One should never make assumptions.

His lips pressed together in a grimace.

It’s a good thing I decided to discuss this now, rather than blindly agreeing to marry him.

Then his eyes went cold. “And by now you must realize that I’m not the man you thought I was.” He stood abruptly. “I'll see you around.”

Before I could stop him, he rushed out the door and into the night.

I stared at the front door, stunned by how quickly things had changed.

C
rowds of people
filled the mall two days after Thanksgiving—and I hated crowds. Nevertheless, after moping around the apartment waiting to hear from Trevor for the past two days, I’d decided it was time to get out, and with the hope that Christmas shopping would pull me out of my funk, I’d decided to brave the throng.

To my dismay, as I passed the food court, Justin walked in my direction holding hands with a beautiful woman.

At least some people aren’t alone.

Self-pity flooded me, and I had to take several deep breaths to keep from bursting into tears.

Knowing there was no way to avoid him, I arranged a cheerful expression on my face and headed in his direction.“Hey, Justin.”

“Lily, how are you?” he said as he and his lady friend stopped in front of me. “How was your Thanksgiving?”

With a tenuous smile, I said, “It was great.”

He turned to the woman at his side. “Pamela, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. Lily Jamison.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

The three of us chatted until I couldn’t stand the small talk any longer. “I’d better get going,” I said. “It was nice meeting you, Pamela.”

They walked away, and barely holding onto my composure, I headed toward the exit. It wasn't the idea that Justin had a new girlfriend that upset me, but rather the combination of that and the fact that not only did Justin not want me anymore, but neither did Trevor.

On autopilot, I drove home as thoughts of Trevor intruded on my mind.

Is he partying with Rob right now?

An image of him getting drunk popped into my head, bringing on a sense of discouragement that we could ever work out our differences.

Once home, I sat at my desk and dug out the only picture I had of Trevor—the one someone had left in my drawer, the one with another woman’s arm around his waist. I stared at his handsome face.

He said he was drunk in this picture, but he doesn’t look drunk to me.

I frowned.

Then again, I haven’t really been around people who are drunk, so it’s not like I have a clue what to look for.

The note someone had left at my apartment door came to mind, and as I recalled the message, I spoke out loud. “You were right, whoever you are. I am very, very sorry I didn't stay away from Trevor.”

After taking one last look at his picture, I thrust it back into my desk and slammed the drawer shut. Emotionally exhausted, I lay on my bed and took a long nap.

Pounding on my front door jerked me out of my slumber. Groggy from my nap, it took me a minute to get up and trudge to the door, but when I looked out the peephole, no one was there. A tingle of apprehension tickled my neck.

Fully awake now, I peered out the front window toward the front door, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever had knocked. As I stood there for several moments waiting for the knocker to walk past, a few snowflakes drifted past.

I loved the peaceful silence of falling snow and drew my sweater closer around me in anticipation of the colder days.

I guess whoever it was left before I made it to the door.

With a shrug, I went into the kitchen and made a mug of hot chocolate, adding a dollop of whipped cream on top. Then, when I realized that I’d bought the whipped cream for Trevor and me to put on our pie on Thanksgiving Day, sadness engulfed me.

I opened the refrigerator to put the whipped cream away and saw the pies I’d baked, untouched on the shelf.

I sighed softly, then sipped my hot chocolate. But when it nearly scalded my mouth, I set it on the counter to let it cool, then went to the front door and pulled it open, almost expecting someone to still be there. No one was there, but when I opened the door, a small envelope fell to the ground.

The person who knocked on my door must have stuck it there.

I picked it up, forgetting about my hot chocolate, then carried the envelope to the couch. I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper.

Lily,

I need to think some things over, but I want you to know that you are on my mind. I'll be gone for a while. I'm sorry.

I still love you,

Trevor

I stared at his handwriting, then mentally scolded myself.

He was here just a little while before. Why wasn’t I faster in answering the door? Then I could have seen him face to face.

I reread the note, then set it on the scarred coffee table, my mind on Trevor.

Where will he go to think things over? Wherever it is, I hope he finds the answers he’s looking for.

Needing someone to talk to, I called Alyssa and asked her to come over.

“
S
o that's the ring
, huh?” she asked as she examined the diamond Trevor had given me.

“Yes. It's gorgeous, don't you think?” Despite my worry and fear that my relationship with Trevor was over, I smiled.

“It's nice I suppose,” Alyssa said before handing it back to me. “Justin said he ran into you at the mall today. Did you meet his new lady love?”

I nodded, thinking Pamela was lucky to have him. “How serious are they?”

“From what he says, they’re getting pretty serious.” She laughed. “I think the guy's ready for marriage.”

I laughed with her.

Alyssa leaned against the cushions. “Now, let's talk about you and Trevor. That
is
why you invited me over, is it not?”

Sighing, I nodded. “I'm not sure where things are going with him. When he told me he likes to party, we had a big fight and he stormed off.” I shook my head. “But today he left this note.” I handed it to her and she read it over.

“Hmm.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She frowned. “I can see how much you love him, Lily, and it's clear your feelings run deep. But you need to look beyond those feelings. Like my mother has always told me, you need to think to the future and your children and think about the kind of man you’re considering marrying.” Her voice softened. “Think how important it is to have a good husband.”

“I know all that,” I said with a shake of my head. “But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do when I’ve fallen in love with a man who’s perfect except for one small weakness.” Then a thought occurred to me that brought me sudden hope. “Who knows, maybe he'll come home from his little excursion a changed man.”

“For your sake, I hope so,” Alyssa said. “But you have to be realistic. If he didn't enjoy partying, he wouldn't be doing it.”

I knew she spoke the truth. I also knew habits could be hard to change, but that they
could
be changed.