This man is shattered.

His eyes are red rimmed from crying, he reeks of alcohol, and he’s destroyed. I can see the pain and hurt splayed across his face.

“Trent,” I say softly as I step closer. “What are you doin’ here?”

My need to comfort him is instant.

“How? How the hell did you find me? Just go home.”

“This is my home. Why are you here?”

He steps back and grips the side of his head. “Fuck! This is why I didn’t want to be found.”

“Do you know how worried I’ve been? How sick your mama is over this?”

The skin around his eyes tightens. He goes from broken to irate in a second. “Good.”

“Good?” I ask incredulously. “Good? How is this good? Your daddy is sick, and he’s havin’ a hard time with the transfusion and you’re hidin’ at my barn?”

“I can’t . . .” He looks away.

“Why are you here? Why did you leave?”

When his gaze meets mine, the pain is so clear I can feel it. It billows off him in waves.

“Because I was far enough away from you that you wouldn’t push me, but close enough I could feel you.”

My chest tightens and tears fill my eyes. He’s always pulled away, but this time he tried not to. However, something has him on the verge.

What I have to do is rein him in. He’s going to push me hard. I know this. “Why did you leave?”

He drops his eyes before turning away from me, but I don’t back off. “Let me in, Trent. I’m not going to let you drift away, not now, not ever. I love you. Talk to me. Tell me what happened. Please.” My words are soft as I step toward him and touch my fingertips against his back.

He shakes his head but doesn’t pull away from me. “I’m too fucking tired to fight you, but I’m not doin’ this.”

I watch him head to the other side of the stable. My lips part as I take in everything scattered around the floor—the lantern, beer cans, the shirt he was wearing yesterday. What stops my eyes are the pillows and blankets that are in the same spot he held me the night my horse died.

“Trent, tell me what’s going on.”

“Not a damn thing,” he spits out.

It seems this is going to be harder than I thought. “Honey, what are you doin’ here?”

He grabs another beer and cracks it open. “Where should I be?”

I walk toward him and rip the can from his hand. “With your father! Remember? The man who is in the hospital, sick, and needs his family. The man you were so worried about not even twenty-four hours ago!”

“Oh, you mean the guy who is not my fucking father!” he screams in my face and takes his drink back.

He’s drunk and ridiculous. “Are you insane?” I slap his chest with both hands, shoving him back. “Your father is dyin’, Trent, and you’re out here, in my barn, gettin’ drunk!”

“He’s not my fucking father!” Trent screams again, and his eyes fill with tears. “He’s a liar and so is my mother!”

“What?”

“Jesus Christ! Are you deaf?” Trent’s eyes flame and then his head falls. “Leave, Grace! Let me be alone. You don’t get it. No one gets it, and I’m not going to explain it.”

My heart races as I watch this man fall apart. I don’t leave, but I do have to hold my own emotions at bay because I have never seen him this distraught. “You’re not makin’ any sense.”

He turns his back on me. “I don’t know how to be any clearer. I’m fucking done. I’m done with everyone in this fucking town and all their lies. I’m leaving as soon as I’m sober enough to get the fuck out of here.”

“So, you’re done with me?” I ask. Trent spins back around but doesn’t say a word. We stand here, neither of us blinking, and a tear leaks from my eye. “Is that what you’re saying? You’re done with everyone in this town, which includes me? Huh? Have I lied to you? I don’t even know what happened!”

“I don’t know, Grace, have you lied? Did you know that I’m a bastard? Did you keep the secret just like everyone else?”

“The secret that you’re not Rhett’s? Do you hear yourself?”

A tear falls down his face and his body sinks to the ground. “Go the fuck home, Grace.”

“No.” He’s going to have to drag me out and drive me if he wants me gone.

I try to think about what could’ve caused this. He was upset, but not like this before going back to talk to Rhett. It has to be because of something when he was there.

“What happened in the hospital?”

“I can’t deal with this!”

“What happened in the hospital?” I repeat. “Why do you think he’s not your dad?”

“I don’t think . . . I fucking know!”

I’ve known his family my entire life, and this is crazy talk. Whatever he thinks he knows . . . he’s wrong. Rhett needs him, and he’s being crazy.

“How?”

“God! It’s like no one listens.”

“I’ll listen when you explain yourself!”

“I overheard my mother talkin’ to the doctor and my father. He said somethin’ about the blood test and that I wasn’t a match.”

“Okay.” I sit beside him and gather one of his big hands in both of mine. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not his son.”

Trent shakes his head and another tear drops. He clearly believes this crazy talk. “I heard them say it. I heard my mother say I wasn’t his son and that they weren’t going to tell me. It’s not a fucking lie or me bein’ stupid. I heard her say that I wasn’t his son. I heard with my own ears them say I wasn’t supposed to find out. Well, too fucking late! I found out, so yeah, I’m right where I belong. Alone.”

My mouth opens a little as he crumbles. “You don’t mean that.”

He releases a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, but I do. Don’t you see it now? It all makes sense. I’ve never been a Hennington. I don’t look like my brothers. I have blond hair and they have brown. I’m the only one with blue eyes. I hate fishin’. I hated the horse farm. It’s crystal clear, and I don’t know why I never saw it before . . . I’m not his son!”