In January, Marcus met Trevor.
He had not planned to. Trevor emailed him directly after three months of no contact with Lauren. The message was short and unexpectedly sober.
I owe you an apology you do not owe me the courtesy of hearing. If you never want contact, I will respect that. I will not contact Lauren again. I am sorry for entering your home and participating in a lie around your child. Marcus stared at the email for two days.
Then he agreed to meet at a public coffee shop near the interstate. Lauren did not come.
Trevor looked different from the imagined figure Marcus had constructed. He was forty-one, tall, lean, expensive haircut, but visibly worn down. No cologne. No tailored blazer. He wore a plain sweater and sat with both hands around a coffee he never drank.
Marcus did not shake his hand. Trevor did not try. For several minutes, Marcus asked questions Lauren could not answer for him.
Did Trevor know from the beginning that Marcus and Lauren were still married? Yes. Did he ever believe they were separated? No.
Did he come to the house knowing Caleb was there? Yes, sometimes. Did he ever speak badly about Marcus to the child? No.
Did Caleb ever walk into the guest room while they were together? No. Did Trevor ever imagine leaving his own life to build one with Lauren? Trevor hesitated, then said no. That answer angered Marcus more than he expected.
“So you risked my son’s home for something you didn’t even want to keep.” Trevor looked down. “Yes.” Marcus sat back. Trevor said, “I don’t have a version where I come out better than I was.”