Chapter 65: Drowning in Regret

“Enough,” Trevor cast a fleeting glance at Peyton. He did not hug her or comfort her like he used to. “Your surgery is tomorrow. Focus on that. Don’t overthink.”

Then his eyes shifted to Josh, dark and unreadable. “As for you, your only responsibility is to take care of Peyton. Everything else is none of your concern.”

With that, Trevor turned abruptly and left the room. Peyton watched him stride away; a thin mist of tears welled up in her beautiful eyes, blurring her vision. Her eyes reddened instantly, gleaming like delicate rubies, making her look like a pitiful little rabbit abandoned in the snow.

Josh clenched his fists tightly at his sides. He turned sharply and rushed after Trevor, grabbing his arm and forcing him to stop.

“Trevor,” Josh called out, his voice taut with anger and disbelief. “Peyton was scalded with hot water by Summer, humiliated and tormented. And you just walk away? She needs you.”

Trevor’s face was expressionless. “What she needs right now is a doctor,” he replied coldly.

George’s grip tightened, desperation flashing in his eyes. “But you’re her cure. Without you, she’ll die.”

The storm swirling in Trevor’s dark eyes deepened, like black clouds churning before a violent tempest. It was these very words and beliefs that had kept him bound to Peyton all these years. This was the reason why he did not manage to save Summer on the wedding day. And because of that, she was ruined. Her innocence was destroyed.

Trevor’s jaw clenched, and thin red veins spread across his cold, dark gaze.

“Josh,” he said, his tone razor-sharp, “I’m not paying you to interfere with my choices. Do your job. If you can’t, I’ll find someone else who will.”

Josh stood frozen in disbelief. Trevor had always been difficult, moody at best, but Josh’s brother had been Trevor’s closest friend in school. Because of that bond, Trevor had always treated him like family and a younger brother when he became Peyton’s doctor. But now? Trevor was ready to cast him aside without a second thought because of Summer.

Slowly, Josh’s hand slipped away from Trevor’s arm. “I understand,” he said at last, voice low.

At the bar, Trevor downed glass after glass, the amber liquid going down hard and fast. He drank viciously and recklessly. His head throbbed as the alcohol pounded against his skull, but he did not stop. A look passed over him, colder than death itself. That look alone was enough to shut him up. But he could not help wondering why Trevor had only asked him out tonight. None of the usual group was here. Bobby and the others had not even been called. Was he just supposed to sit here and watch the man drink himself into an early grave?

Caleb sighed heavily, glancing at the floor littered with expensive wine bottles, some still rolling lazily with each shift of Trevor’s body. At this rate, he thought grimly, Trevor was not going home tonight. He was going to drink himself to death right here.

Unable to hold it in any longer, Caleb finally broke the tense silence. “Trevor,” he said, his tone low but serious, “what happened?”

Trevor’s bloodshot eyes lifted slightly, dazed with alcohol, but under the red haze was a darkness even deeper than before. After a long pause, he spoke, his voice rough and strained. “The day I was marrying Peyton, Summer was kidnapped.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Caleb said slowly. “But you said it was fake.” He remembered that day well. He and Bobby, along with a few other friends, had gone to the wedding mostly out of respect for Trevor. They did not stay long. Most of the guests were Peyton’s close friends. At the wedding, Trevor had received a call from Summer, saying she was kidnapped. Bobby had laughed it off when word got around.

“Of all the days to get ‘kidnapped,’” Bobby even sneered, “she picked the day Trevor and Peyton got married? What a joke. Even a three-year-old wouldn’t believe that crap.”

Trevor’s brows furrowed. His voice was heavy. “No, it wasn’t fake.”

For a moment, Caleb was too stunned to breathe. “What? It wasn’t fake?” The word exploded from him as he shot to his feet, knocking over his barstool in the process. Caleb’s reaction was instant, words slipping out before his brain could catch up.

“No wonder Summer wanted to break up with you! If it were me, if I were a woman, I wouldn’t just break up. I’d carve up the bastard who pulled something like that with my own hands.”

Trevor stared at his friend’s outburst. But for the first time, he did not argue. Instead, he gave a bitter, self-mocking smile. Not just the kidnapping; she may have even been raped by those kidnappers…

Though he felt guilty, it ate at him that Summer’s body was not ‘clean’ anymore. Despite how much he told himself he should not care, he did.

Caleb, realizing too late how harsh his words had been, glanced sideways. Trevor’s face was blank, drained of color and life. It was the first time Caleb had ever seen him like this, and for a moment, he felt a pang of pity.

“Trevor,” he started slowly. “If you really don’t care about Summer anymore, if she wants to leave, maybe you should let her go.”

Trevor’s bloodshot eyes snapped up, blazing red. “You think it’s up to you people to decide whether I give a damn or not?”

Caleb fell silent for a moment, but curiosity gnawed at him, something he wanted to ask for a long time. “If you care so much about Summer, what about Peyton? Everyone thinks you care more about Peyton. What is it? You want both women?”

Trevor picked up the glass of burning liquor and downed it in one harsh gulp, his throat working as if swallowing poison.

“Peyton is my responsibility. Her body ended up like this because of me. Because years ago, my mother forced her out of Havenbrook. She went to the Ameros, spiraled into depression, and then got hit by a car. If I don’t take care of her, she won’t survive.”