When I stepped into the lobby, I found Trey talking to the front desk.
"Hey," I greeted him. "Going up?"
He turned to face me, his brown eyes warm and his smile open. Trey had a gentleness to him, a kind of straightforward naivete that was different from the other relationships Cary'd had before. Or maybe I should just say Trey was "normal," which so few of the people in my and Cary's lives were.
"Cary's not in," he said. "They just tried calling."
"You're welcome to come up with me and wait. I won't be going out again."
"If you really don't mind." He fell into step beside me as I waved at the gal at the front desk and moved toward the elevators. "I brought something for him."
"I don't mind at all," I assured him, returning his sweet smile.
He eyed my yoga pants and tank top. "You just get back from the gym?"
"Yeah. Despite it being one of those days when I'd rather have done anything else."
He laughed as we stepped into the elevator. "I know that feeling."
As we rode up, silence descended. It was weighted.
"Everything all right?" I asked him.
"Well..." Trey adjusted the sling of his backpack. "Cary's just seemed a little off the last few days."
"Oh?" I bit my lower lip. "In what way?"
"I don't know. It's hard to explain. I just feel like maybe something's up with him and I'm missing what it is."
I thought of the blonde and winced inwardly. "Maybe he's stressed about the Grey Isles job and he doesn't want to bother you with it. He knows you've got your hands full with your job and school."
The tension in his shoulders softened. "Maybe that's it. It makes sense. Okay. Thank you."
I let us in to the apartment and told him to make himself at home. Trey headed to Cary's room to drop his stuff, while I went to the phone to check the voice mail.
A shout from down the hallway had me reaching for the phone for a different reason, my heart thudding with thoughts of intruders and imminent danger. More yelling followed, with one voice clearly belonging to Cary.
I exhaled in a rush, relieved. With the phone in my hand, I ventured to see what the hell was going on. I was nearly run over by Tatiana rounding the hallway corner still buttoning her blouse.
"Oops," she said, with an unapologetic grin. "See ya."
I couldn't hear the door shut behind her over Trey's shouting.
"Fuck you, Cary. We talked about this! You promised!"
"You're blowing this out of proportion," Cary barked. "It's not what you think."
Trey came storming out of Cary's bedroom in such a rush that I plastered myself to the hallway wall to get out of his way. Cary followed, with a sheet slung around his waist. As he passed me, I shot him a narrow-eyed glance that earned me a f**k-off middle finger.
I left the two men alone and escaped into my shower, angry at Cary for once again ruining something good in his life. It was a pattern I kept hoping he'd break, but he couldn't seem to kick it.
When I came out to the kitchen a half hour later, the stillness in the apartment was absolute. I focused on cooking dinner, deciding to go with a pork roast and new potatoes with asparagus, one of Cary's favorite dinners, in case he was home for dinner and needed some cheering up.
The sight of Trey stepping into the hallway while I was putting the roast in the oven surprised me, and then it made me sad. I hated to see him leave looking flushed, disheveled, and crying. My pity turned to fierce disappointment when Cary joined me in the kitchen with the scent of male sweat and sex clinging to him. He shot me a scowl as he passed me on his way to the wine fridge.
I faced him with my arms crossed. "Screwing a heartbroken lover on the same sheets he's just caught you cheating on isn't going to make things better."
"Shut up, Eva."