Erchomai [Ricochet/Adam Cole]

chapter 16: trevor and adam make a pesto

Breakfast is filled with stories of childhood and wrestling alike. Trevor finds that he gets along great with both Teddy and Calvin. By the time breakfast has wrapped up, Teddy is making Trevor promise her that he'll be at the wedding. And of course, he loves weddings, so he says yes, even though his and Adam's charade may have long ended when it rolls around.

In the car driving back to Melissa's, Trevor is leaning his head against the seat rest and staring out the window as the radio plays at a low volume. He's content to stare at the scenery and doze off despite the fact that it's only a thirty-minute ride back. His eyes are fluttering closed when he notices Adam take a different turn than he's supposed to. "Hey," Trevor starts, sitting up and glancing over his shoulder as they pass the road. "I don't wanna tell you the way to your mom's house, but I'm pretty sure this ain't the way to your mom's house."

Adam bites his lip, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he spares Trevor a quick glance. "Do you trust me?"

There's no question about it. "I do."

"Good, because I want to show you something."

Their detour leads them to a pond and after cutting the ignition, Adam exits the car. Trevor follows suit. "My parents used to take us out here a lot," Adam says, but doesn't expound upon as he takes a seat on the hood of the car. 

Trevor is curious about the reason Adam's brought him here now, but he knows he'll tell him in time. So, he casually sits down beside Adam, taking in the swampy marsh of the pond and listening to the croak of the frogs.

A long silence settles before Adam speaks again. "I wanted to explain what I meant when I said I missed my dad some days."

"You don't have to," Trevor tells him. "You feel what you feel, and it doesn't need to be explained."

"Thanks, Trev, but it does." Adam sighs, wringing his hands as he tries to find the right words. "I loved my dad. Still do. When he died, it shattered my world. But that was almost twenty years ago and a lot's changed. I'm a wrestler, Mom's built a Zumba empire, Teddy's a pediatrician, and Alec's almost done with fucking grad school."

"When he's brought up, hell yeah it hits me hard," Adam continues. "But other days it's like my grief is just simmering underneath the surface of every other feeling I have. It's like a part of me I can't change but have learned to accept so I don't talk about it anymore." He stops then groans, covering his face. "I sound like a dick."

"No, you sound like a man who's trying to reconcile the memories of his dad with the life he has now. Truthfully, this is the most sense you've ever made." Adam laughs at that, hands falling away from his face, so Trevor keeps going. "Everyone grieves in their own way, Adam."

Adam doesn't respond right away, working through his emotions in quiet for a moment. Then he asks, "Did you ever grieve for your dad?"

Trevor's first instinct is to say, "hell no", but he settles for a disbelieving scoff at the question instead. "That's different." He slides off the car, walking towards the pond. Scooping up a handful of flat rocks from the dirt, Trevor flicks his wrist and skips one into the water.

"Is it, though?" He hears Adam slide off the car, feet crunching across the gravel as he comes to stand next to him. Trevor throws another rock. Watches it skip five times and then sink. "Any person that's gone can be grieved."

"No, and that's why it's different," Trevor snaps, skipping a rock more forcefully than he intended before whirling on Adam. "Your dad didn't get a choice but mine did. He chose to leave. And the people that claim to love you yet walk out on you aren't worth grieving over."