Chapter 130

It was the first time Bobby had ever seen Trevor drink himself into this kind of stupor. He hurried forward, concern written all over his face.

“Trevor, what’s going on? How did you get this drunk?”

Trevor was already far gone. In a hoarse, broken voice, he mumbled over and over, “Summer… why did you betray me? Why don’t you love me anymore?”

Bobby had been in shock ever since hearing the explosive news earlier that afternoon.

At first, he’d thought Yvette was just stirring up trouble when she claimed Summer was involved with Fraser.

But now, seeing Trevor like this, he had no choice but to believe it.

Bobby sat down beside him, trying to calm him. “That’s enough, Trevor. If you keep drinking like this, your stomach’s going to bleed again.”

Trevor shoved him away, grabbed another glass, and poured himself a full drink.

Bobby scowled and snatched the glass from his hand. “Come on, it’s just a woman. Turn off the lights, get in bed—aren’t they all the same? The only difference is whether it feels better or worse. Is this really worth it?”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Besides, you’ve got someone right here who can fill that empty space in your heart.”

A glint flashed through Bobby’s eyes as an idea struck him.

Right. Why didn’t I think of this sooner?

He pulled out his phone and quickly sent a message to Peyton.

Trevor’s drunk. Come to The Qube. He’s all yours tonight.

When Peyton arrived, the room was quiet. Trevor was sprawled on the couch, already asleep.

The sharp, aloof edge he usually carried was gone. Up close, all she could smell was the heavy stench of alcohol clinging to him.

Peyton stared at him, her heart pounding, her resolve firm.

This time, I won’t fail again.

She took the access card Bobby had given her and waved down a hotel staff member. With their help, she moved Trevor into an executive suite. When the door opened, they laid him down on the massive white bed.

After the staff left, Peyton took a deep breath. Using nearly all her strength, she helped remove Trevor’s shirt, revealing the firm, well-defined lines of his torso.

She slipped off her shawl and leaned closer, reaching for his belt.

Suddenly, Trevor turned in his sleep, mumbling, “Summer… Summer… don’t leave me…”

The sound of that name made Peyton freeze.

Summer. Again.

She lay gently against his bare chest, her hand brushing over his skin. Her voice turned soft and sweet. “Trevor, look at me… I’m your Peyton.”

But even in his drunken haze, Trevor frowned. “No… not Peyton. I want Summer…”

A flicker of panic crossed Peyton’s face, but she forced it down. She mimicked Summer’s tone, her movements cautious, deliberate.

Gradually, Trevor’s grip tightened as he murmured Summer’s name again and again, clinging to the illusion in his fogged mind.

Peyton’s lips curved into a faint, trembling smile.

As long as he believes it’s you… it’s enough.

The next morning, Trevor woke with a splitting headache.

For a moment, the sunlight stabbing into his eyes left him disoriented. Then he realized there was someone lying beside him.

His entire body went rigid.

He shot upright, ignoring the pounding in his head. He was naked.

So was Peyton.

It felt like a thousand needles stabbed into his chest.

How could this be? Why is she here?

The only thing he could remember was drinking himself into oblivion at The Qube.

Panic surged through him. Trevor jumped out of bed, grabbing his clothes and pulling them on in a rush.

The sound of movement woke Peyton. She opened her eyes sleepily, then quickly sat up, her cheeks flushing pink.

Her voice was soft, almost tender. “Trevor… you’re awake.”

Trevor was already dressed. His expression was dark and cold. “Why are you here?”

Peyton looked at him through lowered lashes, then bowed her head. “You don’t remember? You were drunk. You grabbed my hand and begged me not to leave. You asked me to stay…”

Her words trailed off.