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CHAPTER 28

T RINA

“Tell me the truth. Is the real reason you’re insisting on coming today because you’re worried about my stalker—who hasn’t made contact in over a week, mind you—or is it because you’re worried about Darren asking me out again?”

Ben takes his eyes off the road for a second to toss me an eye roll that screams ‘get real.’

“First of all, Darren and your stalker might be the same person, no matter what you say. And I’m tagging along for two reasons. One, I am still worried about your stalker, so I’m not going to sit on my ass at home while you tromp through the woods on the outskirts of the city delivering your plarning mats to homeless encampments. Especially since Darren will be there. And two,”—he reaches across the console of his dad’s truck, which he borrowed for today, and grabs my hand—“I want to spend as much time as possible with you when we’re off work. If this is important to you, then it’s important to me.” He squeezes my hand for emphasis, and my heart skips a beat or two.

“Oh,” I say, my voice hushed. My lower belly does a little flip-flop at his words. “I just hope you don’t regret it. It’s an hour’s drive to the city and then once we get to the encampments, the mats are heavy, so it’s usually several trips back and forth to the truck to lug the number of mats we need. So, it’s going to be a long?—”

“Trina. Stop, please. I want to do this. I promise.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

We drive the rest of the way to Meadow Creek Community Center, where we store our plarned mats between deliveries. When Ben pulls in front of the building, I do a double take at the scene unfolding before me.

“What the… Did you do this?”

Standing outside the community center is my family—my chosen family. Emily, Fitz, Annie, Jack, Finn, and Shayna.

“Nah. Wasn’t me, not really. It was you. Well, you and the fact that our friends are nosy as hell, and we all know each other’s business most of the time.”

“Me? How me?”

“Well, Mom and I were talking about it in the kitchen as we were making family dinner last weekend,”—I flinch at the reminder that, though Ben has invited me every week, I’ve yet to go—“and Shayna walked in and overheard. Then she told Annie and before I knew it, everyone was so impressed that you’ve been doing this for years, never tooting your own horn, and wanted to help. The rest is history.”

“W-we never have this much help.” I swallow past the lump in my throat, touched by the gesture my friends are making by coming today.

“C’mon, let’s go out there and say hi to everyone. Okay? Then you get to boss us all around for the next few hours since you’re in charge. I know you’ll love that.”

I glance over at him, and he’s grinning as he gives me a playful wink.

Still stunned that they’re all here, I realize that all this time I probably just needed to ask for help and this amazing group of people would likely have been more than happy to chip in. As simple as it may seem, it hushes that voice deep inside me that’s tried to convince me for years that I have to do everything myself. That I can’t rely on other people.

When Ben and I get out of the truck and walk over to our friends and family, they’re all smiling. There’s not a single person who doesn’t look happy to be here. I swallow past the lump in my throat and thank them all for coming. Then, in my awkwardness, I do what I do best. I compartmentalize what needs done and start directing everyone, handing out assignments so we can load up and move out.

I’m not great at expressing feelings, but if they could see inside my heart, they’d see it overflowing with surprise, happiness, and love for them all.

When we’re ready to load the mats, I’m excited that we have several trucks here because it means I can take more mats than usual. No one will have to go without if there are more people living in the tent city than I expect. I nearly break down in tears when I learn that the boxes in Finn’s truck bed contain large plastic storage bags stuffed with new socks, toothpaste, toothbrushes, hand sanitizer, and granola bars, courtesy of Finn and Shayna’s kids—Jessi and Tommy. Apparently, they wanted to help, so Shayna came up with this idea and the kids helped fill the bags.On top of that, Emily and Fitz have packed bagged lunches to hand out.

By the time we’re loaded with everything, no other volunteers have shown up. It’s fifteen minutes past the deadline that all the usual volunteers—which aren’t many—know to arrive by. Ben makes a comment about Darren not being here and I don’t tell him that twenty minutes ago,

I saw Darren drive by slowly, look at where our group gathered, and then drive away. It makes no sense to me. Surely Darren would appreciate all the extra help since we usually have minimal, if any.

Once we get to the city limits, we stop at the largest encampment I’m aware of. Ben and Jack insist on walking with me when I trek back into the woods to let the people living there know that we’ve arrived. There are usually six people who stay here, but today the number has grown to ten. Suspicion is clear in the narrowed eyes of those who are new.

Just as I’m about to introduce myself to those I don’t know, a familiar face on a mountain of a man comes into view.

His booming voice rings out. “Angel! I was thinking we’d see you soon.”

“Hi Chuck. Good to see you.”

He walks up to me, and I give him a side hug, being that I’m not much of a hugger. When I introduce him to Ben and Jack, Ben immediately puts out his hand to shake Chuck’s, and my heart melts a little.

I’ve always known Ben to be compassionate, but there are many people who would hesitate to touch my unkempt friend with his dirty clothes and greasy hair, especially given Chuck’s size. With Ben, there’s not a hint of discomfort or judgment and when Jack follows suit, a lump fills my throat.

Chuck is the unofficial leader of this small community, so when he introduces me, the new residents visibly relax. I explain they can bring their worn-out sleeping mats to the truck to dispose of and pick up a new one, as well as goodie bags. Eight of the ten people follow us out to the truck, the other two, an older couple, her hunched over with what I suspect is bad arthritis and him limping, would struggle with the trip to the vehicles and back. Before I can say anything to them, Jack steps forward and tells them they can wait here. We’ll bring them mats and bags.

Over the next hour, I watch as my friends and family shower the group with kindness. Shayna and Emily are fan favorites as they hand out the goodie bags and bagged lunches. The men stay and eat while my energetic younger sister and her best friend chat away with the guys as if they’ve known each other forever.

Annie, ever the ER nurse, along with Fitz, uses the first aid kit I always bring along to clean and bandage a few minor cuts. Finn and Jack carry mats, lunches, and goodie bags to the couple who stayed back at the encampment while I hand out new mats and Ben stuffs the old mats into contractor garbage bags I brought. He’s wearing the medical gloves I always bring along. Even so, how many men would jump right in and take the job of handling the dirty, and sometimes soiled, trash of a homeless encampment?

It’s right then and there, in the middle of all the activity going on around us, that I stop lying to myself and admit I love my husband.

I love Ben.

* * *

BEN

There’s nothing like an afternoon nap after an early morning. Especially when Trina’s lying next to me.

I watch her as she sleeps with her face free of tension and her breaths full and even. I’m in awe of this woman. Sure, I always have been, but God, today I saw even more depth to her character. Every time I think I can’t feel more love for her than I do, she burrows further into my heart.

She might play the role of a grump sometimes, which I suspect is a defense mechanism, but it’s far from who she really is. The more of herself she lets me see—and love—the less often that grumpy facade appears.

I’m done for. She’s it for me and I want to tell her, but there’s this fear poking at my heart, reminding me we’re past the sixty days she gave me to see if this works. If I tell her how I feel and she doesn’t feel the same, then this might end. Thinking about that makes my chest constrict, but not telling her isn’t really an option.

Trina’s sleepy sapphire-colored eyes flutter open. “Why are you staring at me?” Her voice is sultry even without trying.

I smile at her as I tenderly brush some stray hair off her face. “Just am.”

“Thank you for today,” she whispers. “It meant a lot to me that everyone was there helping, but you… you were so amazing.”

“Whatever.” I chuckle softly. “Says the woman who makes the mats, organizes the drop off, and never ceases to surprise me just when I think I know everything about her.”

Now that she’s awake, I slip my hand onto her hip, the need to touch her too intense to ignore.

“Tell me more things you know about me.” She says it as a statement, but her voice reflects it’s really an ask. An ask that makes her vulnerable and I’ll never not give her what she asks for when she opens herself up to me like this.

“I know you love pasta, but you favor rigatoni noodles over all others.” A sweet chuckle escapes her and it’s a beautiful sound. “I know you’re tone deaf with a horrible singing voice,”—I yelp when she gently pinches my side in protest—“but that doesn’t stop you from singing in the shower.” I smile at her and trace small circles on the smooth skin of her hip with my thumb. I love seeing her so relaxed, especially with all the tension and stress she’s been carrying lately. “You love milk chocolate, can take it or leave it with white chocolate, but you hate dark chocolate even though it’s healthier. I know you’re one of the most compassionate and giving people I’ve ever met.”

“That’s a lot of stuff. But my singing voice is not bad.” She wiggles in the bed to move her body closer to me.

“Do you want to hear one more thing I know?” I hold her gaze as I ask.

She nods, her eyes focused on me.

“I know that I’m proud of you and that I’m happy we accidentally got married.” I move my hand off her hip and cup her cheek. My heart thumps hard and fast inside my chest. “And I know I love you.” Her eyes widen like saucers and her pupils dilate. “I’ve always loved you, Trina. But these last few months it’s morphed into a deeper love, the kind of love a man feels for his wife.”

She doesn’t pull away—so that’s a win—but she seems stunned silent, her mouth hanging open. Though my heart cracks a little, I lean forward and plant a tender kiss on her forehead.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything right now. I just needed you to know.”I pull her closer and roll onto my back.

She wraps an arm around my chest and rests her head there.

It’s not what I hoped would happen—well, at least all of what I hoped—but she’s still here with me, in my arms and not bolting for the door at my confession, and that’s something.