Chapter Text
“Remember when you asked me if I could be in a relationship with a man who was raising a baby, and I said that I would have to be in that situation in order to answer that?” As she spoke, Trina caressed Ace’s cheek in response to his cooing at her. Spencer adjusted the infant on his lap. He was seated next to Trina on the sofa in his grandmother’s apartment. They were, mercifully, alone, with Esme at work.
“Of course,” Spencer nodded. Perhaps, he was so distracted by her playful nature with Ace that he didn’t fully appreciate the gravity with which she spoke. But he would.
“Well, I’m in that situation now…and I can’t. I tried, but I can’t.”
The smile faded from Spencer’s face as he absorbed her words. It was as if the air had seeped out of the room. His head began to spin. He blinked his eyes feverishly trying to make sense of time and place, the sights and sounds of the room squiggling into something like an abstract work of art he absolutely detested.
Trina continued. “Maybe, if you were actually Ace’s father or maybe if he had a different mother…I don’t know, but I can’t–” Trina stood up and paced across the room, struggling for both the words and the courage to say them. “I know that you love your brother and I know that you want him to feel safe and secure and I understand that you don’t trust Esme to give that to him. But I need you–I need someone who will be there for me. Who isn’t running off every time the mother of his brother calls. Even when we are together, I don’t have your full attention. And, I feel so selfish saying this–it’s not Ace’s fault and I don’t want you to think that I want you to choose me over him. But…I want you to choose me over her…” Trina turned around to face Spencer, shocked and somewhat shamed by her own revelation. There was no way she should be–she was speaking the unadulterated truth of her feelings. But still, her eyes searched nervously through the space between them for some sort of lifeline.
Spencer slowly rose from the sofa and walked over to place Ace in his playpen. Then, he turned to Trina. “Trina–I’m not cho–” he began to say, but she stopped him with a silent nodding of her head.
“But you are. By choosing to live under the same roof as her. By choosing to answer her calls and texts when we’re together. By leaving my side whenever she needs you by hers, all under the guise of caring for Ace. I don’t trust her and I don’t know how you do, either–”
“I don’t trust her!” Spencer snapped. Ace startled and began to cry. Spencer lifted him from the pen, kissed him on the head and rocked him until he quieted.
“I’m sorry. Trina, I’m sorry.” Spencer began in a more hushed tone, before returning Ace to the playpen. “I don’t trust her, which is why I’m fighting so hard for my little brother.”
Trina smiled, a barely, knowing, heartbreaking smile. A smile that pitied Spencer’s ignorance of the facts, his refusal of reality. She could see that he didn’t truly appreciate the damage his continued proximity to Esme would cause them all, Ace included. He had lost himself. All of Port Charles waving a wand as if to erase the last two years and all that Esme had done simply because she had a baby and lost her memory, had lost themselves. Trina too, for a minute. But now, she was found. Now, she could see. And what she saw, she wanted no part of. “You do that, Spencer. You fight for your little brother…”
“Trina…” Spencer’s voice was almost liquid. He stepped to her, cupping her cheek in his palm. His eyes pleaded. So did hers. What they wanted was a different answer. A different path. A different outcome. What they wanted was for the other to see them, to know their pain and to balm it. Spencer brought her to his lips, siphoning whatever breath there was left in Trina’s body; whatever resolve. She returned his kiss, standing there–safe in his arms and at the forefront of his mind, like she longed to be. But Ace’s cries jolted her from the momentary bliss of them as two people alone together in the world, and she remembered herself.
Trina pulled herself away from Spencer. “I can’t.”
“Trina, please. I know this is hard on you and I promise–I promise–it’s not going to be this way forever–”
“That’s just it, Spencer! Can you keep that promise? Ace will always be your brother and Esme will always be his mother. You two will always be connected, and as long as we’re together, it means we’ll always be connected. And that’s not something I want in my life. I’m not going to ask you to choose. I’m choosing!” Trina began backing away to the door, watching as tears began to stream down Spencer’s face, and as a man so stout began to look so tapped out. She did not want to leave him that way.
“Spencer, this isn’t easy for me. I want to be with you. I love you–” Trina had said the words. The big, scary words, which leapt like a ballerina from her tongue, had been looming in her chest for months, maybe years. But, if this was the end for them, she had to leave it all. She swallowed her tears and continued, ignoring the pained look spreading across Spencer’s face.
“I feel like my life is back on track now and I–I love you, but I can’t be in this relationship, with you and Ace and Esme.” Trina turned to the door and reached for the knob, wanting the finality of it clicking behind her as assurance that she had done the right thing. She had arrived there under her own power. She would leave the same way, only, she would leave the baggage of Spencer’s family drama behind. Spencer’s words stopped her in her tracks and reverberated through her body.
“I love you, too, Trina.” His voice cracked. “I should have said it…before now. I should have shown you before now. You’re the best thing that has ever happened in my life. I know this situation with Esme is not ideal and I’m going to make it right–”
She had waited so long to hear that her feelings–her exact feelings–for Spencer were returned. But she couldn’t even bask in it. The cruel reality of the situation was always the next sentence away. She exhaled to steel herself, twisting the knob and opening the door. She turned to take a last glance at him, hoping that doing so would not soften her resolve. “Well, call me when you do.”
“Trina, please,” Spencer pleaded. “I love you.”
She stepped towards him, wiping away a tear with her thumb and kissing him on the cheek. “I love me, too.” With that, she left the apartment, closing the door softly behind her.