Holding on to Him - CurlyGurl13 (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Trina lay listless on the couch. Lately days seemed to just ramble on endlessly. If she didn’t know her family was away at Easter service, she likely wouldn’t even know it was Sunday. It felt like so much work lately to muster the energy to care about anything these days.

And she’d done it on occasion – mustered the energy to care: to care about Joss’ drama with Dex even though she couldn’t relate at all to her friend’s upset. The love of her life was alive and loved her back. Trina wasn’t sure what Joss thought Dex was doing all this time he was working for Sonny Corinthos, but Trina already knew it wasn’t just delivering coffee. And if Joss fell in love with him knowing who he was then, Trina was lost as to why it was an issue now – especially when she was so steadfast in her allegiance to Jason Morgan. But – it wasn’t for Trina to understand. She just tried to find the energy to support. As she’d also done with Curtis as he grappled with new information of how he ended up shot and paralyzed. She had come to love him as a father figure in her life, for sure. And he has been very supportive of her as she tries to find her way out of this fog. But supporting him, putting on a smile for him and for the rest of her family, it was all work. And she was drained.

She was happy to have the house to herself for the afternoon, so she didn’t have to work to put on a smile or to pretend she was ok. Her mother was disappointed that she didn’t want to join the family in church, but that was the last place she wanted to be. And she certainly didn’t have it in her to go the festival in the park afterwards and watch all the smiling and happy people. There was nothing for her to be happy about. The more subdued part of her conscience reminded her every now and then of how lucky she was to have such a supportive family, and a wonderful mentor/second mother in Ava. And that was certainly true. But it was just so hard for her to feel that. Losing Spencer had left a gaping hole in her heart and, exactly two months to the day after seeing him fall off the side of that boat, she just couldn’t see a way out of this grief. Every day her memories of him felt more distant, and she hated it. She had videos and pictures but they were beginning to feel less and less real. She didn’t want to let go of him. Not now. Not ever.

What no one seemed to understand was that what she and Spencer had was so much more than just some mutual crush or puppy love. She knew in her heart that what they had was the kind of love that most people never even get the chance to experience. And she also knew she would never feel that way about anyone else. It’s just not possible. What they had was a once in a lifetime love, and she was so angry that it was taken from her, in an instant. Everyone seemed to think she should just be able to move on because she’ll find love again. And maybe they’re right. But it will never be like that. She will never find another him.

She pulled out her phone and pressed play for the millionth time on the last voicemail he left.

“Hi. I’m sorry I missed you today. So much has happened. I’ll explain when I see you. I know you’ve got a lot going on prepping for this trip, but… I miss you. And I can’t wait for us to be together, everyday, without all of this madness going on around us. I love you, Trina Robinson. More than you’ll ever know. Sleep well, my love. Paris awaits.”

A knock at the door pulled Trina’s attention. Her first instinct was to ignore it. But the person knocked again. She wondered if her mom or Curtis forgot their key. She grabbed her phone to check the Ring camera. A lump formed in her throat when she saw that it was Mayor Collins and Ace. Trina froze, unsure of what her next move should be: ignore the knocking or let them in. She hadn’t seen Laura since the memorial. In fairness she hadn’t seen many people at all. Purposefully.

Laura spoke into the mic of the camera. “Trina, honey, Curtis told me you were home. I hope it’s okay we came by. I have something for you.”

“Hiiii” Ace squealed and waved at the camera.

For the first time in a long time, Trina smiled a genuine smile. She’s not sure she’d ever heard Ace say hi. But she knew a certain brother who sort of had a thing about saying hi to her who would have been tickled. She took a deep breath and tried to fix her hair and smooth out her light cropped purple sweatshirt that she wore over some flared tights and made her way to the door.

She opened the door hesitantly and plastered a pleasant grin on her face. “Mayor Collins. Hello.”

“Trina,” Laura’s eyes seemed to begin brimming with tears the moment she said her name. “It’s good to see you sweetheart.”

“Hiiii” Ace said again with a shy smile. He waved and then bashfully buried his face in his grandmother’s neck.

It was Trina’s eyes’ turn to have tears well up. “Hi Ace. Oh my goodness you’ve gotten so big.” She reached out and rubbed his back softly and he responded by reaching for her. Without thinking, she allowed him to wrap his tiny arms around her neck and gently pulled him out of Laura’s arms and held him tightly. “Hi,” she whispered again, allowing the tears to flow. Spencer would be amazed at how big he’s gotten. She should have checked in on him. She felt Laura’s hand on her arm and opened her eyes and saw that she was crying too.

“Trina, honey, can we come in?”

“I’m so sorry. Yes, of course,” Trina stepped back, still holding on to Ace tightly and allowed Laura the space to come in. She noticed Laura had a bag with her.

“Please don’t apologize,” Laura responded, closing the door behind her and following Trina to the couch. “I should be apologizing. I should have come to see you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” Trina sat, still holding on to Ace, almost protectively. He seemed content laying his head on her shoulder and patting her back – almost like he was comforting her, almost like he knew she was hurting.

“No, it’s not.” Laura replied. “And I wish I could give you a reasonable explanation. And I guess I could tell you that Ace has been a handful, along with my work and some…. familial obligations that have come up…”

Trina sighed. “I understand Mayor Collins.”

Laura frowned slightly. “Trina, I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but I would love it if you just called me Laura.” Laura tilted her face forcing Trina to make eye contact.

“Yes ma’am” Trina acquiesced, giving her a nod.

“The truth is Trina, I just couldn’t bring myself to see you because I knew I’d be like this,” Laura gestured at the tears streaming down her face as she dug for tissue to dab them away. “And…like I’m sure you can relate; I’ve really been trying to hold myself together.”

Trina inhaled sharply as a tear streamed down her face. Ace reached up and patted her cheek and then rested his head on her shoulder again, and Trina’s heart leapt. She took another deep breath to find her voice. “Mayor –“ she paused and saw Laura give her a warm encouraging smile. “Laura. I understand. I should have come to visit you and Ace. Spencer loved you both so much. I know he’d want me to make sure you were both ok. But…”

“But you’re not ok…” Laura reached out and touched Trina’s leg.

“No. And I’m not sure how to be.”

“Oh Trina!” Laura sighed, her eyes again filling with tears. “I was also hesitant because I wasn’t sure how welcomed I would be considering I was the one who was so accommodating to Esme, and I sort of forced Spencer to be the same. You must feel some kind of way about that. And about me being upset with him for giving Ace to his father.”

Trina frowned. “I’ll admit that I didn’ t always agree with you on things, especially when it came to Esme and Spencer and Ace, but… Spencer absolutely adored you, Laura. I could never turn you away.”

Ace squirmed a bit, turning himself to sit sideways in Trina’s lap and face his grandmother. He grabbed one of Trina’s hands and began playing with her fingers. “Hiiii” he babbled. “Tweeena”

Trina gasped and covered her mouth with her free hand. “Did he just say my name?”

They both smiled through their tears. “Well,” Laura replied, “we have been looking through a lot of Spencer’s things, and he has a lot of pictures of you on his iPad and some physical photos. So, we’ve been saying your name a lot lately.” Laura paused as she watched Ace mesmerized by Trina’s hand. “He reminds me a lot of Spencer, you know.”

“Ace?”

“Yes. His hair is lighter of course, but he’s a charmer. Just like his brother is.”

Trina froze at the word is and looked up at Laura. They both silently agreed to leave that hanging and not correct it. Trina looked back down at Ace. “Yeah, I can see it. He is a little charmer, isn’t he?” She placed a soft kiss on his head. She should have gone to see Ace sooner. All this time she thought he would remind her of Esme, but instead he just really made her feel closer to Spencer. She looked up to see Laura smiling through tear brimmed eyes watching them.

“Trina, can I say something?”

Trina took a deep breath, worried that this was going to be another lecture about how she needed to make an effort to get her life back on track, but out of respect for Spencer’s adoration for his grandmother she steeled herself anyway. “Of course.”

“I love all my grandchildren. Equally. You know Cameron well. I’m so proud of him. And Charlotte and Aidan and Rocco and Ace. They are all so very special to me.” She paused for a moment and closed her eyes. “But my Spencer,” Laura clasped her hands across her heart. “Oh my goodness he was such a presence and so charismatic. Even as a little boy – especially as a little boy. And maybe it was because I had to have a direct hand in raising him but my bond with him was always different. And out of all of them he most certainly caused me the most of amounts of blood pressure inducing grief,” she paused as she heard Trina chuckle. “But, my word, that young man was a force. I got to see him blossom from this young, pretentious, somewhat spoiled little boy and angry resentful teenager – thanks to his father – to this amazing young man who literally traded his own life for the young woman he loved.”

Trina buried her forehead onto Ace’s head. “I’m so sorry.”

“No!” Laura admonished Trina sternly. “Don’t you dare be sorry.” She scooted closer and reached out to cup Trina’s chin and raised her face so that she could look her in the eye again. “My grandson loved you so much. His whole face lit up at the mention of your name. I am so hurt,” Laura paused to gasp in pain, “that he is gone. And I will always regret that the last time I saw him I was cross with him. I can only hope he knew how much I loved him.”

“He did,” it was Trina’s turn to place a reassuring hand on Laura’s lap. “He knew.”

“But I couldn’t be more proud of the man he became and that he was willing to do whatever it took to save you.” She took a deep calming breath and turned and gestured towards the bag she brought. “Like I said we’ve been going through Spencer’s things. There’s more to go through. I can only do so much at a time without getting overwhelmed. But this bag has some things that, when you are ready, you should go through yourself.”

Trina wiped away at a tear and placed another soft kiss on Ace’s head as he contentedly continued to play with her fingers and babble. “Tweeeena Tweeee”

“Laura, I have so many pictures already –“ Trina began reluctantly.

“These aren’t all pictures, Dear. There are a couple I don’t think you’ve seen that I thought you’d like to keep. But there’s also some letters in here.”

“Letters?”

Laura inhaled deeply. “Yes. But it’s more like a kind of a diary. You see the letters are to his deceased mother. It seems to date back to when he was in Spring Ridge…I’m guessing as a way of working through his feelings of not getting a chance to know her. I kept the ones that were more about his father although you were a common subject in all of them, but I really thought you should have these ones, and there is one that was written as recently as the night before you guys left for Paris. If you ever decide you want to read the others, you are welcome to of course.”

Trina stared at the bag hesitantly.

“You don’t have to open it right away, Sweetheart. Do things in your own time and at your own pace. But I really thought you should have them. As well the other things in there. You’ll see. When you are ready.”

Trina stared silently at the bag, absently stroking Ace’s back with the hand he wasn’t playing with.

“I should go. We have to make an appearance at this festival.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t offer you something to drink or anything.” Trina stood, still holding Ace, who seemed to still be happily holding on to her.

“Trina, you don’t have to be my hostess. We are forever bonded in our love for Spencer. That makes us family. No matter how poorly I’ve shown it. Whatever you need, I’m here. And I hope we can visit again soon. I know Ace would love to see you again. And so would I.”

Trina smiled genuinely and warmly received the hug Laura offered. “I’d like that.” She gave Ace a kiss on the cheek. “You take care of your grandmother,” she whispered as she handed him back to Laura.

After seeing them out she returned to the couch and sat there for a long while staring at the unopened bag. The bag itself must have been one of Spencer’s luggage pieces. Who else would have a Louis Vuitton large leather duffle bag? Certainly not Laura or Kevin. There was a huge part of her that wanted to take the bag and bury it somewhere deep in her closet because she knew however sweet or cute the mementos were inside of the bag, the tenderness she’d feel would quickly be replaced by the debilitating pain of his absence. It was almost easier being numb.

But…she missed him so much. And she’d felt like his memory was slipping away from her. And this…this bag could bring him back to her – even for a little while. She grabbed the bag and her keys and drove to the only other place where she felt close to him. The gallery.

The gallery was closed for the holiday. Trina locked the door behind her so no one would wander in and left the main lights off. She’d been coming to the gallery during off hours a lot lately. She was sure Ava knew, but she hadn’t said anything. She loved her family but she couldn’t help but feel the pressure to be okay, especially around her mom. And while the memories that the gallery brought hurt, it was still a place where she felt like she could feel his presence. A place decidedly warmer than the lakefront or the pier. And as she felt him slipping further and further away from her, she found herself wanting to cling to the familiar.

She set the bag down next to the desk and laid down the fuzzy blanket and pillow she brought from her car and set about her latest routine of making a pallet under the desk and wrapping herself in a hoodie he left in her dorm room. It still smelled like him even though the fragrance was fading. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent, and she could almost feel his arms around her and his lips brushing her cheek.

“Hey Pretty Girl!”

Flashes of memories flooded her brain. The surprised twinkle in his eye when she raised up on her tiptoes to kiss him for their first kiss and the way he flashed his dimples and smiled before kissing her back as if he’d been literally holding that back for years – something he later confirmed. The feeling of being held by him on the bench for what felt like hours until he was sure she was ok after her encounter with Cyrus. The butterflies she felt while staring into his beautiful eyes even with all that werewolf makeup on as they just basked in each other’s company, neither one in a hurry to go anywhere else. The ways he would study her face to make sure she liked the latte’s he’d bring her and how he’d willingly trade with her if she made the slightest face. The ways that they could just be with each other without pretense. She knew without a doubt Spencer was truly Spencer when he was with her, and she was her truest self with him. And man, did she miss him.

Chapter 2: Holding on to Him

Chapter Text

Trina eyed the bag next to her. She grabbed the lamp from on top of the desk and maneuvered it so that it was under the desk and gave her sufficient light to see what she was doing and read whatever she needed to read.

Taking a deep breath, she unzipped the bag. She pulled out a pocket folder labeled “Letters to Courtney (mostly)”. It wasn’t Spencer’s writing, so she assumed Laura had left the note. The ‘mostly’ was odd and intriguing. She opened the file and saw that inside there were several individual dated letter-sized envelopes. She set it aside to explore the bag further. There was a small photo binder in the bag with a post-it note on it that read “Pictures for Trina”– likely also written by Laura. And there were also a few loose items and another box with “Other” written on it and small note.

Trina, open this after you have looked through everything else. You are so loved and you were so cherished. And I hope this brings you comfort as it did me looking through all of this. You made my grandson so happy. How fortunate he was to have gotten to experience such a deep love and connection at such a young age with such a remarkable young woman.

All my love,

Laura

Trina sighed and wiped away a tear. This wasn’t going to be easy. And the thought of reading those letters, if they were indeed more like diary entries, made her nervous. So, she set that folder aside for now and opened the binder of photos. She was used to looking at photos of him. She had spent many days just staring at pictures and watching and rewatching videos she had of him on her phone, freezing it on his laugh or on a certain twinkle he would get in his eye when he looked at her. There was this look he seemed to reserve only for her, a look that made her feel like the most special person in the world to him.

A smile curved on her lips at the sight on the first page. There were two 4x6 photos aligned vertically on the page. Both were with Spencer decked out in his elf costume purportedly posing with Cam and Laura at the tree lighting back in 2021. In the first one, he’s pouting at the camera, clearly unhappy about having to pose in a costume he is begrudgingly wearing. In the second one, he’s smiling a wry smile with a twinkle in his eye, but he’s not looking at the camera, he was looking at Trina who was standing off to the side talking to Ava. There was a note in Laura’s handwriting: “Only you could get him to smile in that costume on the day he learned he was going to Spring Ridge for 30 days.” Trina grinned. She remembered that day well. He was so different back then. It was such a different time. She would catch him like this often back then: studying her, watching her. And he almost always had a kind of adoring grin on his face. He was never shy about it. It didn’t matter who he was with. In some ways that infuriated Trina, but it also intrigued her and excited her. Back then there were flashes of the Spencer he became, for sure – flashes he seemed to only show her – and she felt this strong pull towards him, no matter how hard she fought against it. She could never quite shake her feelings for him. She knew now, she wasn’t meant to. She closed her eyes and hugged the binder towards her chest trying to remember a stolen moment they’d had.

“Since you aren’t happy about this Spring Ridge news, I’ll keep my comment about this elf outfit to myself,” Trina quipped as she approached a sullen Spencer.

His face brightened when he saw her. “Well then, I thank you for your discretion.”

Trina squinted pensively “I think I’ll write to Kelly’s and request that they have staff dress up like this for Christmas every year, and not just for the General Hospital event.”

“Fine by me,” Spencer shrugged. “There’s no way I’ll still be laboring in that establishment a year from now anyway.”

“Oh really? Plan on getting another prison stint?” Trina quipped. “Too soon?” She asked with a wince when Spencer shot her a disapproving glare.

“I don’t plan on working at Kelly’s because I plan on having access to my own money again. Somehow.” Spencer added.

“Yeah well, good luck with that.”

Spencer chuckled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I do my best,” Trina replied with a twirl of her hand.

They were silent for a moment, both standing there with silly grins plastered on their faces. Spencer broke the silence. “So-“

“So-“ Trina inhaled, suddenly nervous about the awkward silence.

“Why aren’t you an elf this year? I bet you’d look adorable in that outfit.” Unabashed, Spencer’s eyes traveled the length of her, no doubt imagining her in an elf dress.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but you’ll have to deal with what I have on now.”

“You misunderstand me if you think I’d ever find you disappointing,” he replied his eyes more searing and searching.

“Here I was thinking you needed cheering up after the news your uncle delivered, but you seem to be just fine.” Trina rolled her eyes to cover for the butterflies she was feeling from the way he was looking at her.

Spencer reached for her hand to prevent her from walking off and rubbed his thumb along the back of it which only made the butterflies churn harder. “I’m always fine when you’re around, Trina Robinson.”

Trina froze and looked down at their joined hands before allowing her eyes to meet his again. This time his eyes were softer and he was blinking rapidly, almost as if he was as affected as she was.

“Spencer! Come take a picture with me and your cousin!” Laura beckoned her grandson.

“I’ll be right there Grandmother,” he replied, without letting go of Trina’s hand or breaking eye contact. He inhaled sharply and gave Trina’s hand a squeeze. “Merry Christmas, Trina.”

“Merry Christmas, Spencer.” Trina’s voice was breathier than she intended, and she scolded herself internally as she walked away. She spotted Ava and decided she was a safe person to strike up a conversation with and distract herself from – whatever that was.

Trina smiled as she traced her finger along Spencer’s face in the pictures. He looked so young then. So much skinnier, but still so handsome, with a mischievous glint in his eye. A glint that had captivated her from the very start.

She sighed as she set the binder down, deciding to take those memories in pieces. She reached into the bag and felt something soft and pulled it out. It was his Cassadine Industries tee from their softball team, she took a sniff, and, to her mild disappointment, it had been freshly washed. She discarded her top and put it on anyway. There was something about having his name, Cassadine, written across her back. She was convinced he’d picked the number 13 because of her birthday even though he had blown her off back then and told her it was just his lucky number. She tried to imagine the feeling of his arms wrapped around her, comforting her, and took a deep breath and she opened the pocket folder and 7 envelopes fell out. They were all dated, this time clearly in his handwriting. She took a moment to put them in order, working delicately as if the letters would disintegrate if she was too rough with them. She found the oldest one and clutched it to her chest while placing the others to the side. She laid back, tucking the hoodie with his scent still on it next to her, adjusted the light, took a deep breath, and opened it.

2/14/22

Dearest Mother.

I know this is somewhat unorthodox – me writing a letter to a dead mother that I’ve never actually met - but you’ve been on my mind lately. It’s possible it’s because our day is coming up. The day you died giving birth to me. And I’m finally back here, in Port Charles, but I’m not going to be able to visit your grave. And it’s been bothering me. You see, I’m in prison, but I’m sure you know that, and it’s not like I have a plethora of like-minded people with whom I can converse, so I thought I’d try writing you. And maybe next year I can leave this letter, and others on your grave when I’m a free man and I’ve fixed this mess of a life I’ve made. Maybe next year I can tell you I’ve become someone worthy of you. I’m not there yet. But I do want to be.

The thing is, I don’t know how to let go of all this anger I feel towards my father. And up until recently I really thought my feelings weren’t just valid and justified, but also made my actions excusable. You’ll be pleased to know I’m starting to develop a conscience. That’s not really thanks to my father. I don’t know what happened to him. He was such an amazing father when I was young. But somewhere along the way I became expendable to him. It makes me wish even more that I could have gotten to know you. It’s an odd kind of guilt knowing you died giving me life, and knowing I’ve essentially been screwing that life up out of hurt and anger towards my father. He was worthy of our love once. He isn’t anymore. But that can’t be what drives my whole existence. Not anymore.

Anyway – it’s Valentine’s Day. And that oddly brings me back to that whole concept of wanting to be better. You see there’s this girl. She is so amazing. She is gorgeous, with skin that just glows and reflects the light. She’s got this smile that lights up the whole room and these beautiful brown doe eyes that can melt any man’s heart. And, Mother, she’s so smart, and witty, and sharp. And she is honest and incorruptible. Nothing like me. And nothing like these boarding school girls I’ve grown up with. She is absolutely captivating and challenging at the same time. Her name is Trina. And she makes me want to be so much better. No one has ever challenged me the way she has before. The only problem is…. I have a girlfriend. And it’s not her. And I was sure I ruined any shot I may have had with Trina by not telling her I had a girlfriend when I came to town. You see when I met her, I was so taken by her, I got caught up in wanting to get to know her and just be around her. There was this undeniable spark between us – but don’t worry Mother, I was a gentleman. Mostly. In all honesty I had to be. She rebuffed my idea of skinny dipping the day after we met and I realized quickly she was different and required a different approach. Being around her, getting to know her, as innocent as it was - it felt magical. It was something I’ve never felt before. But then she found out my name wasn’t Victor – long story – which was hard enough to get past. I didn’t know how to tell her about Esme. I knew I should have, but I kept getting caught up in enjoying being around her that I just kept pretending Esme didn’t exist -which wasn’t exactly hard to do when I was with her. But – as you know, eventually the truth catches up to you and Trina found out who I really am and that my transgressions were so much more than just me lying about my name.

And then there’s Esme. She hasn’t exactly been a saint, and she never really has been as long as I’ve known her. But she’s been loyal to me, and I thought that was enough to make her a great match for me. But that was before I met HER. And now I’m not so sure. Since she followed me here, she’s done some pretty awful things to my friends, and especially to Trina – probably because Esme knows how I feel about Trina. In a way she always has. And that’s on me. Trina didn’t deserve any of it. But she also doesn’t really deserve the likes of me. So maybe I am with who I should be with. Maybe it’s better to stick with someone who has been loyal than to risk heartbreak with someone who I’m not sure I’ll ever truly be worthy of. On the other hand, what if? What if I could be?

When you’re in prison, there’s so much time to think. I obviously have regrets about how I handled things with my father, and how I allowed Esme to escalate things by involving Avery and tormenting Ava with KiKi’s badge. That was so cruel. I let things get out of hand. And I’m paying for that. But I find that my thoughts are more consumed by my regrets about Trina. I can’t help but wonder how different things would be if I had told her about Esme. Part of me thinks she would have written me off on the spot. But if I was honest – even now about how I feel, would she ever give me a chance?

I went to say goodbye to her at the gallery where she works just before I checked in here. I had so much I wanted to tell her. I wanted to apologize for Esme’s actions and for leaving with her. I was going to tell her I had feelings for her and how special she is to me but I got tongue tied. All I could manage was to tell her that she mattered to me. She let me get so close and let me hold her hands, and I couldn’t help myself! I leaned in for a kiss. I just went for it. What’s so crazy is she didn’t push me away or slap me. I think she actually wanted to kiss me back. We were interrupted by Esme – of course – because she can’t ever give me five minutes of peace, even in this prison. But I haven’t heard from Trina since. And I can’t stop thinking about that night and how it felt to be that close to her. I keep replaying that moment over and over again. We were so close.

I guess it makes sense why Trina hasn’t been to see me. Esme. I’m supposed to be with Esme, not trying to kiss her. I get it. But I can’t stop thinking about her. Is this what love feels like? Is this what you felt for my father even though you were married to Josslyn’s father? Because I have never felt this way before, and I can’t shake it. I haven’t been able to since the day I met her. I don’t think I’ve ever admitted how I feel to anyone. Being with her, even just as a platonic friend is like this tonic for all this pain and resentment I feel. When I’m around her I’m able to feel something other than the pain and it’s addicting. I don’t know if I’m making sense. And when I’m not with her, she’s on my mind constantly. I really wish you could meet her. From all the things I know about you from Uncle Sonny and Grandpa Mike, I know that you two would have hit it off. She’s fiercely independent, just like you were.

So, as usual, my life is a mess. I’m pretty sure I have fallen in love with someone who isn’t my girlfriend and who possibly thinks I’m the absolute worst possible match for her. But I am trying. And I’m working on me. And I want to do better. As for my father, I’ll check in with you about him later. Right now, the less said about him, the better.

I’m working on a plan to get to see you on our day. But if I don’t – I guess this is my way of putting it out there in the universe, officially, that I’m thinking about you. I will find a way to be a better man. For you. For Grandmother. For me. And maybe, just maybe for a chance at HER.

Your loving son,

Spencer Cassadine

2/20/2022

PS

Well, that was Trina. She is amazing, isn’t she? Did you see the way she let me have it? There is no one else I would ever let do that (except Grandmother). She was so upset with me for my little unsanctioned furlough. I can’t help but wonder if her getting that upset means that she truly cares more than her not bothering to visit me all this time would seem to indicate.

I don’t have any regrets. I really needed to see your grave. I can’t really explain why. So, I’m glad I went. I’m happy I didn’t get caught. And I’m even happier that I got to see her, however briefly and despite her very vivid irritation with me. She looked incredible, didn’t she? I really hope you like your flowers.

Yours again

-Spencer

Trina closed her eyes when she finished the letter. She was glad she read the letter while laying on her back so that her tears didn’t stain the ink. She had so many thoughts. How adorably formal, and so very Spencer, of him to open with “Dearest Mother” and sign with “Your Loving Son”, to a mother he’s never met and will never actually read this. It was also so very Spencer, especially 2021/2022 Spencer, to completely brush past the whole I have a girlfriend thing and spend the rest of the time opining about the person who wasn’t his girlfriend, as if that was normal behavior. She rolled her eyes and chuckled. That was the Spencer who had completely taken her by surprise and was unlike anyone she’d ever met before. He was dashing and mysterious, charismatic, and charming. But he was also impulsive and short sighted. And he could be snobbish and obnoxious to anyone but her. And she’d be lying if that detail didn’t give her a kind of thrill, even back then. But he was also oddly very self-aware of his own short comings, and openly willing to at least admit to those short comings, which was one of the qualities she always saw in Spencer that showed her the man he could be, if he would just get out of his own way.

But she knew that was hard for him. He was robbed of his mother at birth and had a father who showed him so much love as a young child and then carelessly neglected him as he grew older. He was left alone, a lot, to heal those wounds. The Spencer she met was impulsive but hurting. The Spencer she lost was still hurting, but finally healing.

He had told her in New York that he had loved her since the day he met her, and of course it was one of the most romantic things she’d heard on one of the most romantic nights of her life, but to see it confirmed in writing from long before they’d even kissed made her heart swell. She knew at the very least that he was attracted to her. He never really tried to hide that. He’d made it a habit to let his eyes roam whenever he saw her and was never shy about offering an approving grin or to just tell her she looked nice on any given day. But she had no idea at the time that his feelings ran this deep. Seeing it all in writing was a little jarring, even knowing what she knew now. Part of her wished they’d both had more courage to admit how they felt about each other sooner, so they could have had more time. But would they have had the same story? Because she really wouldn’t trade their story for anything. She closed her eyes tightly. Except for the ending.

Chapter 3: Holding on to Him: Levity

Chapter Text

Trina leaned back against his solid and expansive chest. The tub in this New York hotel room was massive. She couldn’t believe they both fit comfortably, especially Spencer with his especially large, and dreamily chiseled frame. She sighed blissfully as he played with their intertwined fingers. They were surrounded by lavender scented bubbles, soaking off the soreness from their meandering around the City and Central Park all day and from their activities from their first night together, and their first morning.

“What’s that sigh for? Are you tired?” Spencer asked, dragging his free hand along her arm.

“No. Just happy.” Trina replied, snuggling closer.

“Yeah? Me too,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder. He grabbed the sponge and gently rubbed it along her arms and chest.

She could feel him smiling behind her, and she could feel something else rising. “What are you thinking about back there?”

“You’re beautiful,” he said matter-of-factly. He gently turned her so that she was facing him, lifting each leg, one at a time, and placing them over his. He reached up to touch the terrycloth headband she had on, helping protect her swept up hair from getting wet. “I’m also waiting for you to give me my Trina Robinson tub rules.” He raised his eyebrows twice for emphasis.

“Don’t be cute. They are the same as the pool rules.” Trina pulled herself a bit closer. “Essentially, you are not to get my hair wet, under any circ*mstances. Unless you want to spend the next several hours helping me wash, detangle, blow it out, and press it.”

“I see,” he replied with all the seriousness he could muster but playfulness in his eyes. He shrugged. “Several hours, you say.”

“Yes. Several,” she blinked, her expression dead serious.

“And what would happen if we just decided not to wash, detangle, blow it out, and press it? What’s a press?” Spencer asked as he pulled her closer onto his lap.

“Flat iron. And there is no deciding not to at least detangle. That would be a must. And not blowing it out would mean a big, puffy, afro.”

“And…. that would be a problem…for you?” Spencer raised a curious eyebrow while rubbing his hands along her back.

“Considering I don’t have the proper hair products with me…yes.”

“I see,” he replied pensively. “And I’m sure the whole city of New York wouldn’t have any of those products handy.”

“What is this about,” Trina asked, narrowing her eyes to regard him. “Are you suddenly curious to see my hair in its natural state?”

“Hmm?” Spencer asked distractedly, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Spencer!” she exclaimed, eyeing him warily.

Spencer chuckled sheepishly. “Trina, you are gorgeous. There’s no way you’d ever convince me the texture of your hair in any given moment somehow changes that. But no, this isn’t about curiosity exactly.” He inhaled and bit his bottom lip, hoisting her fully onto his lap so that she was fully straddling him, her center fixed over his member sitting at full attention. She gasped at the feel of him. He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I’m just trying to figure out the logistics.” He kissed her neck while sliding his hand down between them.

“Spencer,” she whispered between gritted teeth. They were only about 24 hours into this new level of their relationship, but he was clearly a quick study. His fingers were magical and made quick work of setting all her nerve endings on fire.

He captured her lips for a fervent kiss as his tongue began to match the ministrations of his fingers. Her hips reflexively began to buck against his hand greedily, and he smiled into her lips. “Careful, Baby. Don’t splash too much” he teased.

If Trina were in her right mind she would have thought of a witty comeback, or any comeback at all but she was caught in a haze, her climax fast approaching – it was almost shocking how quickly he could bring her there. And from the look on his face, he was enjoying every moment of it.

Before long he joined her in the haze, fully inside her, as she rocked back and forth languidly, driving them both wild. He looked up at her completely mesmerized as his hands guided her hips and dug into her flesh.

When the slow torture became too much, he held her hips firm and drove himself into her over and over until they both reached their peak and were sated and spent. Trina clung to him while they both caught their breath. Trina felt him chuckle to himself. “Whoops.”

She instinctively reached up to touch her hair, but he caught her wrists.

“Your hands are wet, Baby.”

“Right…” Trina agreed.

“And…unfortunately….so is this whole section,” Spencer winced and pointed.

“Spencer!!”

“I think your curls are quite lovely.” he added sheepishly.

“On *half* of my head Spencer?”

“So, we got a little carried away…” Spencer shrugged.

“We?” Trina pushed back a little a regarded him sternly.

“Yes, we. You didn’t seem to have many complaints a second ago Miss Robinson.”

Trina rolled her eyes and fought back a smile. “Point taken.”

Spencer leaned forward and kissed her nose. “This is an easy fix.”

“Is it now?” Trina crossed her arms. She couldn’t wait to hear this.

“Yes. If you simply must do the blow out and press thing, or whatever, I’ll have the concierge get you an award-winning stylist here first thing.” He stood to get out of the tub and held out his hand to help her out. “Just tell me what I need to ask for, and they’ll fix your hair however you want it. And while we’re at it, we can get a masseuse and get someone for a manicure and pedicure and make it a whole spa day.” Spencer shrugged so matter-of-factly as if this was the most basic and simplest solution ever. Trina couldn’t help but shake her head and smile. “What?” he asked wrapping a towel around her.

“Nothing,” she replied. “You’re right. Easy fix. Anyone could do it.” Spencer blinked at her blankly, completely missing her sarcasm. He was such a spoiled rich prince. But he was her spoiled rich prince. She watched him as he grabbed his phone to make the arrangements, naked in their hotel bathroom. He was her very handsome and talented, spoiled rich prince.

When they were done making the arrangements, with Trina describing the need for someone with experience with 4B/4C hair, Spencer began eyeing her mischievously again.

“What?”

“You know what this means right?” he asked as he approached her menacingly.

“I’m so scared to ask,” she sighed, with a shake of her head.

He reached down and hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Spencer!”

“It means now we can take a shower together. Without any Trina Robinson rules.”

The clang of the alarm on her phone interrupted Trina’s dream. She had dozed off in the gallery, clutching that first letter. She had been sleeping a lot there lately; probably more than she did at home. She was always sure to set an alarm, so she’d get back home before a search party was sent for her. But she didn’t want to wake up this time. She wanted to finish this dream. Except it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory - a very vivid one. She could feel him this time. She could almost taste him. It had been a while since she’d had such one that felt so real, like she was really back there, in the flesh. She didn’t want to wake from it. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to remember how they had played around in the massive hotel shower, and how he’d played in her hair. She tried to feel his arms wrapped around her as he took her from behind whispering in her ear telling her how beautiful she was, how good she felt, how much he loved her… but while she remembered it happening, the feeling that went with it…it was just out of reach again. Distant and fading into the background.

She sighed and sat up. Resigned to take herself back home, she gathered the letters and other items and placed them carefully back in the bag. She took off his Cassadine Industries tee and replaced it with her own top. She grabbed his old hoodie. She took in one last whiff before placing it carefully in her tote bag. She reorganized everything, making sure to leave things as she found them and headed out.

Trina tried to quietly open the front door to the house, so she could discreetly enter and make her way to her room. She had sent a text earlier that she was going out and assured her family in the group chat that she would be back by 11:30. And she’d kept her word. She didn’t want to worry them, but she also didn’t want to… talk. They had all been understanding for the most part and they hadn’t pushed her into making decisions about her next steps or into moving on – whatever that was – but she couldn’t help but feel compelled to not show her emotions around them. Both her Aunt Stella and Curtis had made a point to give her permission to feel however she felt around them, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t shake the pressure she felt to keep it all together. She knew it didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense anymore.

As soon as she opened the door, however, she noticed the lights were on in the living room and she closed her eyes to steel herself. She knew she should feel appreciative to have family waiting up for her, but instead she felt dread – dread about having to find the strength to be okay. Again.

“Baby girl, aren’t you going to say hi to your dad?”

Trina didn’t think there were tears left after the day she had but the sound of his voice triggered them immediately. She dropped her things and ran into his outstretched arms. “Daddy!”

“Hey, hey!” He held on to her comfortingly. “It’s okay baby girl. I’m here. I know I’m late. But I’m here.”

Trina didn’t say anything. She just held on to him tightly. She surprised herself. She was very fond of Curtis. She loved him even. And he had become a true father figure to her. But Marcus Taggert was her Dad. He was the man who kissed the hurt away when she cut herself as a little girl; the man who rocked her to sleep when she was too scared to sleep in her bed because there was absolutely a green monster under it. She knew his work had kept him from seeing her. He had called and texted often to check in and repeatedly let her know he was there and that he loved her. But she didn’t realize how much she needed to physically see him until that very moment.

“It’s going to be okay” he said over and over, soothingly as he held her. After a while, when her breathing steadied, he pulled away and looked at her face. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be here.”

Trina wiped her face and held on to him as she guided them both onto the couch. “I know. You were too deep into your cover. And when your cover is blown, everyone you love is in danger. I know,” she said, reassuringly reciting what she’d been told by him many times before.

“Your mom says you’ve been taking all of this pretty hard.”

Trina chuckled sardonically; the drained feeling was returning. “My mom tends to trivialize what “all of this” actually was. She never truly understood the way I feel about Spencer. And I know you aren’t his biggest fan either.”

“We didn’t like the trouble that seemed to follow him. And it seems we weren’t too far off about that.”

“Daddy, I love you,” she said in an even monotoned voice. She didn’t have the energy for histrionics. “And I’m so happy to see you. But I cannot have this conversation with you if you are going to trash him too. I just can’t.” She started to get up to leave but felt his arm keeping her in place.

“Trina, I’m not trashing him. I promise.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry. I should have said that more tactfully. What can I say, I’m a cop. I deal in facts. Trouble did follow him. I didn’t say that was his fault. And I know my daughter. She is nobody’s fool. That boy,” he paused when he saw her disapproving face, “Sorry, er, that young man, was chasing after you for 2 years before you gave in. He had to become worthy of you, and I’m guessing he did just that – at least in your eyes. And that’s all that matters. And once you gave him your heart, aside from a hiccup or two, he protected it – with his life. How on earth could I ever find fault with that?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that like it’s a good thing?” Trina sighed. “I never wanted him to do that. I know it’s this big noble thing to you all but, to me, I just wish he wouldn’t have. I just wish there was another way.”

“I know,” he reached out and pulled her to lay against his shoulder. “And I know it sounds inconceivable to hear that you will get through this. But you will. And Cassadine would want that for you as much as the rest of us.”

“I know,” she conceded. Her dad was right. Spencer would hate to know she was in so much pain.

“So where have you been? Your mom said you haven’t been with them all day.”

“I was at the gallery.”

“They weren’t closed today?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed, and irritation clear in his voice.

Trina smiled a half smile at his protectiveness. It was nice to have him home. “The gallery wasn’t open. I just like to go there sometimes. It’s quiet. And it reminds me of Spencer.”

“Really? How so.”

Trina grinned again. “It’s okay Dad. You don’t have to pretend you want to hear about him.”

“I actually would like to hear about it thank you very much. All I know about you and Cassadine and the gallery is that he spilled fake blood on you after breaking and entering and rigging the sprinkler system. And he worked restitution there for stalking his stepmother and serving time for felony charges. So, if there’s something more…positive to know about him, I’d love to know.”

Trina grinned. “It’s where we had our first kiss-”

“Something other than that.” Taggert groaned, interrupting her with a quickness.

“It’s where he asked me to go to New York with him.”

“Again – something that doesn’t have to do with him putting hands on or taking my baby girl on weekend trips where it’s pretty obvious certain things occurred.” Trina could tell he was gritting his teeth.

“Daddy, you’d be surprised at how much of a gentleman he truly is.” She paused and looked up at her dad. “Was.” She corrected herself quietly. “Even on those days you don’t want me to tell you about. Like the night of our first kiss,-”

“Oh, I don’t want to hear this,” Taggert sounded absolutely tortured.

“Okay, okay. Let me see,” Trina relaxed against his shoulder. “He would bring me lattes some mornings. And if I didn’t like the taste of mine, he’d give me his. And if I still didn’t like it, he’d go get more, until I was happy. He… used to come and help me put up new exhibits for work, and we would have debates over which paintings were the best or even what the subject of certain paintings were. And I think he did it because he was worried that I would get hurt doing the install. He startled me once when I had earphones in while I was on a step ladder, and I fell off. He caught me, and I was fine, but he almost immediately insisted I quit working there and go back to working at the Chuck so I could have a staff to hang things for me.”

“See now, that is something Cassadine and I would have 100% agreed on.”

Trina patted her father’s chest and let out a chuckle. “He loved and appreciated art almost as much as I do. And some days we’d just sit on the bench and just talk about any and everything. Oh!” she held up her hand excitedly, “There was one night – Halloween – where we just spent the night dancing alone because the party we went to was too crowded.” She sighed. “I have a lot of nice memories of him at the gallery. It was kind of our place.”

“That’s sweet. I guess,” Taggert replied begrudgingly.

“He loved to surprise me. He would plan these big, grand things like a private tour of the Met when we went to New York or the Tour of the Siene we were supposed to go on in Paris,” she paused as her breath hitched on those last words. Her dad gave her a squeeze and she continued. “But he also would do little surprises, like having my favorite pasta dish sent to my dorm room when he knew I was having a last-minute study session or bringing me dinner when I had to work late because I was waiting on a delivery. He would gift me these cool art books he’d come across and write the sweetest inscriptions.” She paused again to take a deep breath. “Really Daddy, he did so much to make sure I knew how much he thought of me, cared for me, loved me. He made me feel so special.” She clutched her hands over her heart. “And yes, there were things in his life that were complicated. He tried his best to clean up a mess his father made. And though I was never comfortable with him being in Esme’s orbit, I know he was just trying to do right by Ace. Because he has a good heart. Had. He was a good man Dad, even if he didn’t always show it to others, he showed it to me, in so many ways.”

Taggert kissed the top of her head and squeezed her. “I’m sorry I never really let you talk about him before.”

“You didn’t like him for me. Most of you didn’t,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“Well, he didn’t have the best track record and we didn’t want you to end up hurt.”

“I know. And what’s so crazy is you were right,” Trina let out a bitter laugh. “Here I am… hurting. Even though he turned out to be this…wonderful man.”

After a quiet moment, Trina chuckled. “He really took his lumps when it came to you guys though. He knew how much I love my family, and he was determined to find a way in even though he knew how wary you all were of him, especially my mom and you. He never really got a chance with you because you were gone, but he was plotting.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled. “He asked a lot of questions about you, working to find an in for the next time he saw you. He seemed to have won over Marshall and Stella to some degree, which he was so happy about. Curtis was distant, but pleasant. But mom, he never quite won her over. But he kept trying, and kept getting his face handed to him,” Trina giggled. “I loved him for trying though.”

“Yeah, your mom can be a force.”

“So can you.”

“I have my moments. What’s in the fancy bag?” he asked, gesturing towards the bag she discarded by the door.

“Laura brought that to me today. She’s been going through Spencer’s things, and she thought I should have what’s in there.”

“Have you looked through it?”

“Some. I think I’ve decided to take my time looking at it all. It’s a lot to take in at once.”

“That’s probably smart.” He sighed and shifted, gently sitting them both up. “So it’s like, what, pictures or something?”

She smiled at her father. She really loved him for mustering this level of interest. “There’s a small album it seems that Laura put together of pictures she doesn’t think I’ve seen. I’ve only looked at the first page so far.”

“I’d love to look at some with you if you don’t mind.”

Trina winced. “I’m sorry. It’s just…I don’t know what they are, and I think I want to look at them on my own first.”

Taggert nodded slowly. “It’s okay. I understand.”

“But…” Trina added, “if you are truly interested, I have some on my phone I can share.”

Taggert raised his hands in a surrender-like pose. “Trina, I swear if there are any nudes on there…” he warned.

Trina smiled and rolled her eyes. “All nudes are safely locked away in a private file, Dad.”

“Trina! We’ve talked about your digital footprint and hackers…”

“Daddy, I’m kidding.” She grinned. It was so great to have him home. She still felt this heavy ache on her chest, but it was nice to be able to find some real levity through all the grief. And her dad was just the person to bring it out of her. It wasn’t work with him, and that felt good. “I’m so glad you’re here, Daddy!” She gave him a squeeze and then they both sat back and looked through her phone.

“This is one of my favorites.”

“I said no nudes Trina!”

“We are in bathing suits at the pool, Daddy.”

“What’s wrong with a nice one piece? And he could have used a shirt.”

“Daddy!”

Chapter 4: Holding on to Him

Chapter Text

Trina approached his headstone slowly. It was one of the first gorgeous spring days in Port Charles. And it was the anniversary of them making their relationship official. Had it really only been one year? In some ways it felt like so much longer and in others, it seems it went by so fast. She set down her tote, carrying the file of his letters, a blanket for her to sit on and some flowers for his headstone. She pulled out the blanket and spread it in front of the headstone and sat down. Then she pulled out the flowers, a brilliant set of dark blue roses, and took in their scent. She saw these in the store and instantly thought of him. They were gorgeous, and almost regal. She set them down in front of his name.

“Hi,” she whispered. “It’s still hard for me to picture you here. Because you’re not. But today is such a beautiful day, and I saw these gorgeous flowers, so I decided to spend some time here with…. your name since I can’t be with you.”

“It’s our anniversary, you know. Who am I kidding? Of course you know. You probably already had some grand plan cooked up for how we would celebrate. You were so good at that – coming up with these detailed surprises to sweep me clear off my feet. And it worked. Every time.”

“But that day, at the ball, you weren’t so smooth, were you? Oh, you started off well, waxing poetic about how beautiful you thought I looked and how you should have escorted me so you could have me on your arm. Yeah. That was smooth. But you were an adorably nervous mess when you asked…what was it you said about our kiss…”I take it that’s something we both are in favor of… doing again” Trina chuckled. “Oh my gosh you were so…. sweet.” She smiled and paused to dust off his headstone.

“It wasn’t the perfect night by any means. I mean you were a complete jackass to Dex like 5 minutes later and then you were kidnapped by your crazed uncle, and I stowed away. But those moments before, you following me around on a mission despite the interruptions, looking so handsome in that tux…those were perfect moments that I will always cherish.”

“Your grandmother came by the other day. I hadn’t seen her since the memorial. I’m not exactly sure why. Anyway – she brought Ace. He can say my name now. And he kept saying it over and over. And Spencer, he’s gotten so big. He makes the same face you make when you are concentrating. And he still likes to play with my fingers, just like you.” She paused and took a deep breath as tears began to form. “I thought seeing him would hurt too much or remind me too much of Esme, but it was so nice to see him.” She inhaled to steady herself. “And he said hi, and he hugged me so tightly. It felt like somehow, he knew I needed that. He’s such a sweet boy. I promise I’ll do better about seeing him. I know how much you loved him.”

“I know it doesn’t seem like it right this second considering I’m a blubbering mess, but I really am doing better. My dad came home for a while – Taggert. I really didn’t know how much I just needed to see him. It’s been so nice spending time with him. I don’t know why I don’t feel like I have to be ‘on’ with him, but I don’t. Not like with the others. And it’s nice. I feel like I’ve smiled real smiles more these last couple days then I have since…since that day. I’ve really been trying. Trying to figure out how to exist in a world without you.”

“Anyway – Laura has been going through your things and she gave me a bag of stuff she thought I’d like to keep. I love wearing your softball tee as a night gown. There was a bottle of your cologne. It doesn’t smell exactly like you, but one whiff brings you closer – that’s for sure. And it brings back so many memories. I know this is weird, but I have an old hoodie of yours that I never washed, and your scent was beginning to fade. I sprayed some of the cologne on it, and now it feels like you again. Don’t laugh at me. I’m doing my best.”

“She gave me some pictures she thought I’d like, and I love them. There’s some adorable ones of you as a baby, and you as a young boy – in a smoking jacket no less. I wish I could have known you then. Joss and Cam have told me stories, but I bet I would have crushed on you. Most of the pictures are ones she found that show you looking at me or watching me: at the Christmas tree lighting in 2021. There’s one at Kelly’s when you were supposed to be waiting a table and she was snapping a picture proud of her grandson working to earn a living, but you were looking at me paying my bill. And similar ones at the pool, at Laura’s place this past Christmas while Laura was opening my gift to her, and more. They cover two years or so of you just watching me. It would be kind of creepy if it wasn’t so sweet. Being loved by you was such a gift. And I miss it so much.”

She took a deep breath. “Anyway, she also gave me these letters you wrote to your mother ‘mostly’,” she added in air quotes. ‘I’ve only read one so far: the first one you wrote when you were in Spring Ridge. And today is a lovely day and I’m feeling good, so I thought this was as good a place as any to read more. So here goes…”

9/9/22

Dearest Mother,

I know in my last letter I said I was going to do better. That truly has been my objective. I am trying. But, as it would happen, I have been recidivated back into prison - Pentonville this time - for 3 months.

A great deal has occurred since I wrote you last. But you’ll be relieved to know I’m not here because I broke any new laws. I’m here because I confessed to escaping Spring Ridge on our day to see your grave. And due to my unwillingness to divulge the name of the person who helped me, they essentially threw the book at me. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. Uncle Sonny has some associates here looking after me. But to be honest, my current residency here may be the best thing in the long run.

My father, the man we both once loved, slept with my ex-girlfriend. An ex-girlfriend who framed Trina, the woman I love, for taping and distributing revenge p*rn of my two oldest friends Joss and Cam. Trina was arrested, put on trial and put through hell because of her. And because I’m the selfish idiot I’ve always been, I decided that I could fix everything, by pretending to still want to be with Esme. I pretended to believe Trina was guilty to get Esme to trust me so I could get her to slip up and find evidence that would exonerate Trina. Unfortunately, after months of effort on my part, Esme never slipped up and I couldn’t come up with anything concrete. I figured out how she did it. But I couldn’t prove any of it.

As for my father, he didn’t know any of this. He thought I was legitimately with her. And he slept with her anyway. In what world is this the kind of father that loves his son? And I can’t tell anyone about it. I mean, firstly, it’s humiliating. But she’s disappeared, and his soon to be ex-wife has been attacked with a fish hook, and my great uncle doesn’t want the police suspecting my father. So, in exchange for my silence, my uncle has agreed to help me get my hands on my inheritance so I can just get away from him. For good. Until then, I’m in here.

There was a time I could have trusted Trina and shared all of this with her just to have someone to talk to, but…she wants nothing to do with me. I knew I hurt her when I took Esme’s side. But I thought it was important for her to believe it. Esme had hurt her enough. I didn’t want Esme targeting her any more than she already had. Because of me.

I initially refused to believe Trina did it and instead accused Esme. She broke up with me because of it. So, I had to convince her that my mind was changed when Trina was arrested, but even then, when I told her I wanted to try to rebuild our relationship, I could barely bring myself to touch her. I tried to find ways to get away from her. I felt like I was suffocating. Esme’s not an idiot. She knew I was in love with Trina, and even accused me of it flat out, so I played it like I was trying to get over Trina. I let her believe that I just needed time. And that bought me time but it didn’t buy me the space I needed to find any real evidence. She barely left me alone.

Once Trina’s trial came, and I had to do something. I bluffed and pretended to know who her biological mother was and tried to get her to exonerate Trina in exchange for the information. Well, suffice it to say, that didn’t work. So, I had to confess to being at your grave and give Trina an alibi. But the Assistant DA blew holes through that.

Mother, you should have seen Trina through all of it. She was so brave. She sat there and took it on the chin while the ADA and Esme insinuated awful things about her. And when it was her turn to tell her side, she held her head high and looked the ADA and the members of the jury in the eye and didn’t flinch once. I was so proud of her.

Because of my confession, her lawyer had to ask her some personal questions which lead to her asking if she had feelings for someone the night that sex tape was filmed. And she said yes and said my name. She had feelings for Spencer Cassadine. I feel like I heard the whole courtroom groan. But I didn’t care. Hearing those words made my heart feel like it was going to burst. Of course, because this is how my life goes, the follow up to that was her saying she no longer had romantic feelings for me. And she’s now seeing, and regularly kissing - something I really wish I didn’t witness quite so often - this straight-laced cop guy named Rory and she’s calling him her boyfriend. So, there’s that. But the most important part of all of this is she was finally exonerated. We’ll never know if my testimony helped or not. The case got thrown out when a late witness identified Esme. So, it was all just a colossal waste of time. And energy. And heartache.

Esme is God knows where, and not paying for any of her crimes. I’m in real jail this time. And, when I tried to tell Trina that I had truly believed in her the whole time, I didn’t get the chance. I was going to give her a letter, confessing everything, but before I could, she told me we weren’t friends anymore. She said we were toxic. And my friendship wasn’t good for her. And I know it sounds dramatic, but it feels like she ripped my whole heart from my chest. Because how can that be true? How can we be toxic when her friendship has meant everything to me. SHE means everything to me. And I’m not saying I blame her. I know I did this to myself. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Maybe it’s better this way though. She seems happy with that guy, and he seems to adore her – but that’s a given, she’s incredible – and he treats her well. And after all this, that is the least she deserves. I hate it, but I could live with it knowing she’s happy. When it comes down to it, that’s all I really want for her.

Anyway, don’t worry about me in here. I have plans to keep my head down and my mouth shut. I will surely spend the bulk of my time reading and polishing my French. Perhaps, I will lift some weights and get in better shape in case I do need to defend myself in here. And when I am released, who knows, perhaps I can start over somewhere new.

I know you must be so disappointed that my relationship with my father is so broken. And I would like you to know that there really is nothing you could have done if you were here to change that. Not if he was still the same man he is right now. I didn’t have many people show up to see me off yesterday, but I’m not entirely alone. My grandmother is in Europe, but I know she would have been here if she could. My Uncle Victor has been great. And Cameron assured me he would visit. So, I should fare just fine in here. I promise.

I asked my Aunt Alexis if to ensure you had fresh flowers on your grave every two weeks while I am away. She promised me they would be vibrant and colorful.

All my love,

Spencer Cassadine

“Oh Spencer,” Trina sighed, clutching her letter to her chest. “You know you should have told me, right? We’ve been over this enough. We don’t need to rehash it.” Trina waved her hand dismissively. “I could have helped you find evidence. I could have helped you scheme against Esme. But you know what else…you wouldn’t have had to deal with all that horrible mess alone. Your father. And his awful choices. I could have been there for you. I wish I could have been there for you. I hate the idea that you were hurting so much. I knew something was up from our conversation at the hospital outside Ava’s room. But I had no idea it was that bad. I would never have been so…dismissive of you and our friendship if I have known everything. I hate that you had to bear that all on your own. I can still remember the hurt in your eyes when you told me you’d known for months about him sleeping with Esme. You being you, you tried to cover, but I could see it. I could always see you.”

“You really didn’t have to take me home with everything that’s going on?” Trina fidgeted with her coat as she and Spencer stood in the driveway of her mom and Curtis’ house in front of Spencer’s car.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t make sure you got home safely. Fake date or not?” Spencer replied, his face a bit unreadable.

“Spencer, Esme just showed up, out of nowhere, pregnant. And your father admitted that he could be the father. How are you this calm?”

Spencer shrugged. “Have you met the Cassadines? No one got stabbed, so I’d say this was a good day.”

Trina tilted her head to regard him. “I’m being serious.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking away.

Trina began to fidget again. “So…when we brought Esme to the hospital, you were adamant that the baby isn’t yours. How can you be so sure?”

“Uh,” Spencer began awkwardly, “it’s not exactly scientifically possible.”

“Birth control is not 100% effective.” Trina contorted her face to hide her disdain at the thought of him with her.

Spencer cleared his throat. “Yes, I know. That’s not the science I was referring to…”

“Spencer she’s pretty far along, she likely got pregnant over the summer. You two were together then. Even if she slept with your father, isn’t there a chance…”

Spencer shook his head. “There is zero chance. We hadn’t…” he cleared his throat again. This wasn’t usually a difficult subject for him. He took a deep breath, “The last time things were… physical between us was before I went to Spring Ridge.”

Trina blinked in surprise. “But….you were a couple after Spring Ridge.”

“As we’ve established, I was pretending… with her.” Spencer clarified.

“Well, before Spring Ridge you and Esme seemed to be all over each other. Often.” She paused to roll her eyes. He looked down at his shoes. “So how did you manage to be ‘together’ with her,” she emphasized with air quotes, “if you were never…well… together.”

Spencer inhaled audibly. “Well, that took a bit of finesse on my part.” He cleared his throat again.

“Finesse? I’ll bet,” Trina guffawed.

“Trina, I couldn’t bring myself to be with her in that way. Not after what she did to you.” His voice was soft, and he was looking at her like he was looking at her earlier on the Haunted Star. “Uh- and to Joss and Cam of course.”

Trina looked down at her shoes and nodded. “Of course. So – uh – how exactly did you manage?”

“Well, we broke up, just before I got out of Spring Ridge. The day you…” he paused to find the right words. “The day you returned the Richard Molyneux book.”

“I feel like I remember you saying you couldn’t do that – break up with her - because you were all she had.” Trina tilted her head and regarded him curiously.

“Um – well she did it for me. She didn’t like what was written inside the book,” he laughed nervously. “Or that I accused her of making the sex tape.”

Trina blinked as she registered, offering a silent nod in response at first. “So do you think you would have broken things off with her if she hadn’t?”.

“Without a doubt,” Spencer replied quickly. His eyes were earnest as he looked squarely into hers. “Trina, when I heard you were arrested…any guilt or obligation I felt towards her... all of that was gone.”

Trina nodded slowly again looking away. “Sorry, I interrupted how you managed to finesse the situation…”

“Right,” he shook his head, seemingly trying to regroup from some kind of affectation. “So, when you got arrested, and I came up with the plan to pretend to believe her and not you…”

“The idiotic plan that didn’t plan?” Trina crossed her arms defensively.

Spencer chuckled. “Yeah – that one.” He smiled at her sheepishly. “I told her I wanted to try again. But I told her I needed time. And convinced her we needed to take things slow.”

“Why would she believe you needed time?”

“Uh – well,” he laughed nervously again, “I wasn’t very good at hiding how I…” he paused to take a deep breath and just spit out the next words in rapid fire, “felt about you.” His eyes met hers and they were silent for a moment. “Anyway – “

“Yeah. Anyway –“ It was Trina’s turn to take a deep breath. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear more on that subject, so she decided to switch up her line of questioning. “So…when Ava cornered Nikolas, and it came out that he slept with Esme…you didn’t seem surprised. And you had a pretty heated discussion with him when he showed up at the hospital. Did you know?”

Spencer let out a sardonic chuckle. “I had no idea Esme was pregnant. But I knew my father had slept with her, yes. So, when I saw her, it seemed like a logical conclusion that he was the father.” He rubbed his face with his hand.

Trina tilted her head trying to read his face. “When did you find out?”

“A few days before I went to Pentonville.” He looked down at his hands and began to fidget with them.

Trina reached out and touched them. “That must have been hard to find out.”

Spencer looked down again and began to nod. “Esme could have slept with anyone, and I wouldn’t have cared. But my father - he thought I was with her. He didn’t know I was playing her. So…I didn’t exactly take it well. We’ve pretty much been estranged since.”

“Well Laura was completely shocked, so you couldn’t have told her. Did Cam know?” She hadn’t let go of his hand, and she noticed he was staring at her hand.

“No. For very boring Cassadine reasons, my uncle Victor convinced me not to tell anyone.”

“So, you had to go into Pentonville, carrying this…alone?” Spencer offered her a silent nod in response and Trina looked away nodding. “And that’s what you wouldn’t tell me at hospital outside Ava’s room.”

“You didn’t need to be burdened with all that.” He said, his tone a bit bitter as he pulled his hand away.

“So who does?” Trina asked peering up at him.

“Who does… what?” Spencer blinked in confusion, before removing his coat and placing it around her shoulders.

“Who does get to be burdened with your hurt Spencer?” She asked as she helped him along by pulling her hair to the side as he did placed his coat on her shoulders, undeterred from expressing her thoughts. “Certainly not your father. He caused it. Your grandmother was away, and you clearly shared nothing with her. You didn’t tell Cam. You didn’t tell me. You just carried this…alone,” she paused to grab his arm. “Who looks out for you? Who is taking care of you?” The slightest grin crept along Spencer’s face. “What?” Trina asked, very much amped up from all that she’d learned.

“It’s nice to know you care,” he said quietly. His eyes were soft, and his grin growing as he blinked slowly. After a beat he continued. “Well, my Uncle Victor knew and he…”

“Told you to keep it all to yourself. I’m sorry Spencer, but that’s awful advice. You were hurting and you should have been allowed to lean on the people who care about you.”

Spencer covered her hand with his. “I’m okay. I’m more worried about you and the fact that whoever’s targeting you likely isn’t Esme, and that means they are still out there. So, you need to be careful.”

“Well so do you, now that we’ve posted pics of us all over the web from tonight.” Trina replied. “The killer might not be Esme, but they have been targeting people close to me.”

“Right,” he replied.

Trina watched as his eyes moved down to his hand covering hers and pulled hers back like she’d just touched something extremely hot. He responded by placing both of his hands behind his back, almost as if he was restraining himself from touching her further. Trina would be lying if she said she wasn’t affected. All this fake closeness all night – okay – maybe it wasn’t all so fake – had gotten to her before Esme showed up. And it didn’t help that he looked amazing in that suit, perfectly tailored to fit his noticeably larger frame. Someone had spent some time in the gym in Pentonville, and it did not go unnoticed. Down girl. “So-“

“So-“ he began at the same time.

Trina laughed nervously. “Sorry,” she mumbled, looking at her feet again.

“You should go inside.” Spencer stepped to the side and gestured towards the doorway. “It’s late and tonight’s been crazy, and I know you’re getting cold.” Trina shivered but it was more from the lowered octave in his voice.

She offered him a silent nod as he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her silently towards the door. She tried to ignore the butterflies churning in her stomach. When they reached her doorway, she watched as he leaned his long frame against the column that juts out a bit just beside the door. “I’m not sure I actually thanked you for bringing me home, so… thank you.”

“Of course,” Spencer replied softly.

“Are you headed back to the hospital?”

Spencer pursed his lips. “Nah. I think I’ve had my fill of my father, and I’m not interested in round 105 of him and Ava.”

“And Esme?”

“I don’t think she’s going anywhere any time soon,” he replied with a shrug. “What about you? She tried to ruin your life, and she’s back and supposedly remembers nothing. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know how I feel about all that.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot to process. Tonight as been...a lot.”

“In more ways than one,” Trina replied under her breath.

Spencer just blinked in reply with a slight grin.

“Okay, I should go,” Trina tugged his coat off her shoulders and offered it to him. He took it from her, but kept his eyes locked on her. “Goodnight. Happy New Year, Spencer.”

“Happy New Year, Trina. Sleep well.”

It took effort for Trina to tear her eyes away from his and unlock her door to go inside. She could feel him watching her until she was safely inside. She didn’t turn back around for fear she’d jump him right there. It really had been a crazy night. But with all that had been revealed, the thing that stuck out the most to her was how amazing it felt to be in his arms, and how close she came – again- to letting him kiss her. And more than that, how disappointed she was that it didn’t happen.

“Those are lovely roses. How did you find such a gorgeous deep blue?”

Trina was pulled back to the present by a vaguely familiar voice.

“Spencer would have loved that color,” Alexis offered with a shrug. “Much more him than these white ones I brought.”

Trina smiled. “I think those are lovely too.”

“Well, thank you for saying so.” Alexis crouched down to place them by the head stone and stood back up. Trina stood up with her. “Please don’t let me interrupt your time. I just… he was on my mind.”

Trina nodded and looked around at her things nervously. Wondering how it must look – her having a picnic with the empty grave of her dead boyfriend, but if Alexis found it strange, she didn’t seem to show it.

“I see he’s on yours too,” Alexis offered. “How have you been? I just saw your mother not long ago at GH.”

“I’m…surviving I guess.” Trina answered as honestly as she could.

Alexis offered a warm smile. “Sometimes surviving is the best we can do in the moment. But, someday, I do hope it feels like living again. Spencer… he absolutely adored you. You should have seen the way his eyes lit up anytime he mentioned you – which was often. The way he was taken from us is just heartbreaking and awful. But I am 100% certain he gave his life to make sure you got to live yours. So, you take as long as you need, but I really hope you find a way to live again.” She reached out and touched Trina’s shoulder.

Trina nodded silently. When Alexis turned to leave, Trina touched her arm. “I can leave if you’d like some time here.”

“No, it’s okay. You take as much time as you need. It’s a gorgeous day. I think I’ll just go for a walk. You take care of yourself Trina.”

“I will,” she replied. She watched for a moment as Alexis walked away and then turned to arrange the new set of flowers in front of Spencer’s headstone. She took a deep breath. “Live. Everyone says I need to find a way to live. And I just can’t see it right now but maybe I will. I do know one thing though: I know it will never be the same, and maybe that’s why I’m having such a hard time with all this. It will be like these flowers. These white roses are lovely. But they are nothing compared to these blue ones. These blue ones are vibrant, beautiful – a true rare find – and perfectly you Spencer. There will never be another you.”

Chapter 5: Holding on to Him

Chapter Text

“Is there something on my face,” Trina patted at her face self consciously with a napkin as they sat on the park bench in Central Park eating pizza from his favorite pizza parlor. It was as delicious as he had described and maybe she’d gotten carried away because he was looking at her. He seemed to have a whole arsenal of looks reserved for her, but this one was different – new.

His lips curved into a grin. “No, you just seem to be…enjoying that slice of pizza.” He had scarfed his own two slices down on the walk to the park bench, complaining that he was starving. Trina wanted to savor her food and opted to wait until they were seated and not look like an animal.

“Oh my God Spencer, it’s so good!” Trina exclaimed, taking another bite, and there was that look again.

“Mmhmm,” Spencer grinned, clearing his throat this time, and shuffling a bit on the bench.

“What is this look?” she asked before taking one more heavenly bite and closing her eyes to enjoy the flavor and letting out a satisfied moan.

“You ask that question and then do that,” Spencer grinned, adjusting in his seat again.

“Do what?” she set her slice down reluctantly so she could focus on what he was saying, dabbing at her face again with her napkin.

“Well, this isn’t exactly the first time I’ve seen you enjoy a meal. And the way you indulge in chocolate, especially, is sinful really, but –“

“Sinful?” Trina, clutched at her chest in shock at his choice of words.

“Why yes,” Spencer replied without flinching although his voice was playful, “quite.” He grinned when her mouth flew open in shock.

“Well, you never complained before…”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me, Miss Robinson. This…this is not a complaint.” His voice dropped an octave as his eyes traveled the length of her.

“Okay – you’ve never mentioned it before.” Trina crossed her arms defensively.

“That’s because I’m a gentleman,” Spencer sat back on the bench and looked up at the trees surrounding them grinning widely.

“Really? So why bother making note of it now?” Trina could feel herself flushing.

Spencer scooted closer to her on the bench and took her hand, giving it a sweet kiss. “Well, my love, having now witnessed the faces you make while…experiencing other things you…enjoy…I’m finding it more difficult to keep a neutral face.”

Trina fought back a smile. She wanted to at least pretend to be stern with him, but he was just so sexy, and it was very difficult for her to hide her affect – especially after all things he made her feel last night, and this morning. “I don’t make…those faces when I eat.”

“Ah, but you do,” he replied with a raised eyebrow. “But only when you really love what you’re eating.”

“So, all those times you brought me chocolate, it wasn’t just to bring me chocolate?” Trina feigned offense.

Spencer laughed and pulled her sideways onto his lap. “I brought you chocolate because you love chocolate and I love you. Watching you eat the chocolate was always just a bonus.” He placed a soft kiss on her cheek and worked a trail of soft kisses towards her neck. “You are a very, very sexy woman Trina Robinson,” he whispered in her ear. He reached over and grabbed the remains of her pizza slice and held up to her. “So please, do continue…” he said with a grin.

Trina met his gaze a smiled, taking a bite of the proffered slice. But she resisted every urge to allow her delight in the taste to register on her face. In fact, she made every effort to keep it as blank as possible, even as his eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion followed by him smacking his lips in disappointment. She took the remnants of the slice from him and polished it off without so much of a hint of pleasure and raised an eyebrow when she finished.

“Seriously?” he asked with the most adorable pout as she got up and threw away her trash.

“That was delicious!” she exclaimed, reaching down to pull him up from his seated position.

“Yeah – well you ruined it,” he continued to mope.

Trina wrapped her arms around his waist. “Aw, don’t pout.”

“Cassadines don’t pout,” he replied stubbornly.

“Ah but you do,” she replied, turning the tables on him. “And you had it coming for teasing me.”

He grinned and kissed her forehead. “I wasn’t teasing. I was admiring. And I regret nothing.”

Trina snuggled against him for a moment. It was a lovely fall day, but the wind was a bit crisp and he was so warm. She loved this time they were getting – just the two of them – away from everyone else. A full 24 hours hadn't even passed yet and they had already reached a whole new level of comfort with each other. A part of her had worried before taking the trip that sharing something so intimate with him would shake things up and mess up their bond. It was a silly thought now looking back on it. “Spencer?”

“Hmm?” He asked, his chin resting on top of her head.

“Do I seem different to you?” She could feel him chuckle into her hair. “Don’t laugh. It’s a serious question,” she said, pulling back so she could see his eyes.

“I’m not laughing at you, baby. I was just thinking about this earlier. How different I feel,” he pulled her with him as he made his way to the back of the bench. He leaned his bottom against it and pulled her between his legs, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“From 24 hours ago?” Trina asked, resting her hands on his chest.

“No from when we met. Is that what you meant?” Spencer smiled, tilting his head to look at her.

Trina winced. “Kind of. Is that weird?”

“Of course not.” Spencer looked around as if searching for the right words. “Do you feel different?” Trina raised her eyebrows and shoulders as if to say ‘duh’ to him. “Well, I guess your perspective is different than mine. I mean, I’ve seen and… touched a little more of you,” he paused to bite his lip and grin. “But you, Trina, you don’t seem different to me at all. You’re just as stunning, sexy, funny, brilliant and vibrant as always. But us? We’ve definitely changed. What we have - it has always been something incredibly precious and special. But sex changes things. That was inevitable.”

“Changes things for the good?” Trina asked, playing with the collar of his shirt.

“Oh definitely,” he replied with a whisper. “Being with you in that way…loving you in that way, I really can’t describe how that makes me feel.”

Trina batted her eyes and smiled at him. “You were pretty amazing you know.”

“So were you,” he whispered with a smile, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “It was really important to me that you’re first time was special and that you felt safe and loved, and not pressured.”

“I felt safe and loved and absolutely no pressure.” Trina reached up and rubbed her thumb along his dimple.

Spencer closed his eyes briefly at her touch and smiled. “So how exactly do you feel different?”

Trina inhaled audibly. “I don’t know. I just feel changed, I guess. How do you think we’ve changed?”

“Well for one, we’re talking about sex and not around it,” Spencer chuckled. “Even in planning this trip, I don’t think either of us outright said anything about it.”

“Hold on. Pause! When you were rudely interrupting my paper writing I told you that I wanted to focus on you and me and us being together when we were here.”

Spencer raised a hand in protest. “First – I was not rude for wanting to see you, especially when we both know you were done with that paper. Second – being together can mean a lot of different things. You had me nervous with the slight possibility that you didn’t mean what I was hoping you meant.”

“You knew what I meant.” Trina smacked his chest and rolled her eyes. “You act like you didn’t actively shut me down twice already. I had given you the green light loooong ago.”

“Um I shut you down once. And that’s because I didn’t want your first time to be on a bench on a night you learned that your father might not be your biological father. And believe me, that was not easy. The boat docking shut us both down the second time. I was all in – thank you very much.”

“You took some convincing…”

“Because you deserved something like this…” Spencer gestured around them.

“So what took you so long?” Trina shocked herself with how serious that question sounded on the heels of their playful banter. “I’m sorry –“

“Don’t be,” Spencer tilted his head again to catch her gaze. “For starters, I’m pretty sure consent isn’t open ended. And reality, well, reality really hit us square in the teeth.”

Trina nodded silently.

“I should have done this sooner. No question. But I also needed you to be sure this is what you want. Like I said, sex changes things. We can’t go back. So, I needed you to be sure.”

“Okay,” Trina nodded.

“Okay? That’s it?” he chuckled.

“I didn’t intend for this to turn into something where you felt you had to defend yourself. Especially since it’s been such an amazing experience so far. I truly have no complaints. I’m not sure why I even went there.”

“Trina, one of the best things about us is we can talk about anything. Anytime.”

“And we just did. I appreciate that you wanted me to be sure. It’s very, very sweet actually. You can be really, really sweet when you want to be.”

Spencer grinned. “I want to make you happy.”

Trina sighed. “You have.” She reached up and kissed him briefly and pressed her forehead against his. After a moment, she tugged at him so they could continue their walk, looping her arm in his. “So tell me, how do you feel different from when we met, since that’s what was on your mind.”

“Surely you, of all people, don’t need me to explain this,” he chuckled.

“Well, no, but I’d like to hear your perspective.” Trina grinned, leaning in to him as they began the next leg of their aimless walk around the park.

Trina sighed and squeezed her legs to her. The cool breeze of the water from the lake made her shiver and she wrapped herself up in another blanket. She’d been sitting out on the back porch for a while now. Her mother had insisted she come inside about an hour ago, but Trina told her she was fine. And she was. It was chilly out but it was far from frigid. It was nothing like the cold Spencer must have felt in that water. She tried to avoid those dark thoughts. Thinking about how he died, but she had gone there a few times. She’d even googled how painful drowning deaths can be. One of the things that haunted her the most was that he didn’t cry out for her. He didn’t cry out for help. Esme did. Trina heard her screaming for a bit. But she never heard Spencer. She knew that had to be because he was drugged. And a part of her was hopeful that he was numb and possibly passed out first from the drugs and was peacefully unaware that he was drowning. Another part of her was horrified that he was paralyzed but conscious…until he wasn’t. Unable to call out for help but wondering where she was. Was he waiting for her? She shook her head. She didn’t like going there. So she instead tried to think of good memories, like their walk in the park the day after their first night together, when it seemed like nothing could ever tear them apart.

She sighed and turned her attention to the two letters she had in her possession. Given the dates, she knew they were written when Spencer was having his own dark times. Laura seemed to think it would be good for Trina to read these and, so far, she was right. Seeing his thoughts about her, even his anguish about her in writing and knowing how much she took up his thoughts long before they got together warmed her heart, because he had taken up so much space in hers since the day they met. So despite her misgivings – she really did want to read more about Spencer’s thoughts – she picked up the oldest of the two letters and carefully opened it.

11/14/2022

Dearest Mother,

I’m still here. I’ve managed to find a delicate balance of existing without being seen for the most part. Your brother’s associates have been helpful to a point. My grandmother’s criminal uncle has surprisingly been helpful as well and provided a decent amount of protection. I’ve generally managed to keep my normal snark to a minimum and just survive. But it’s been pretty lonely. My uncle Victor has visited a couple of times but he has an agenda and that is reconciliation with my father. And that is an agenda to which I refuse to concede. My grandmother came today. She’s back from Europe and she looks well. And while it was so good seeing her, she too has the same agenda. But of course, she has no idea what my father has done.

It was nice to see Cameron and Josslyn when they showed up a few weeks ago for their only visit thus far. I know everyone is busy. I get it. I don’t have expectations of being high on anyone’s priority list at this point. They assured me that I won’t be alone when I get out of this fine establishment which was nice to hear. Cameron really has grown to become such an exceptional person. He’s a bit sappy, but I love him. I haven’t always been the best at showing it, but he’s like a brother to me. I will have his back, always.

Cameron and Josslyn also let it slip that Trina knows that I was playing Esme. She found out the day I came here, but she still stayed away. Until today that is. And I was wholly unprepared to see her. The first month or so of being here, I didn’t expect her to come. She’d said we weren’t friends and that we were toxic. But of course, she didn’t know the truth. And I thought I was doing some self-sacrificing grand gesture by falling on the sword and letting her be happy and not messing with her head by telling her about what I did and why I did it and trying to change her mind. She seemed happy with that guy. Why stomp on that? That all sounds noble, but it still felt like sh*t. I’m so sorry for the untoward vocabulary but I truly can’t think of a more appropriate word.

Frankly, I didn’t think I could feel worse. I heard her when she said we couldn’t be friends. I knew damn well how much I’d hurt her. But every day I’d wake up hoping that day would be the day she would visit, in spite of it all. But discerning just weeks ago that she discovered the reality of what I had been up to yet she still made the active choice to stay away. That gutted me. And even still I had the gall to call her. I’m not even sure what I would have said. But she didn’t pick up. And I’m so crazy about her that just hearing her voice made me smile despite everything. How crazy is that? And I still held out hope that she would visit. And she did. And I wasn’t prepared. And I blew it.

Mother, I cannot really describe the initial high I felt in seeing her. She was so lovely. For a moment, I forgot where I was, and I was just so happy to see her. And she seemed happy to see me. Her smile was so radiant, and my heart just melted. It was like time stood still. But then I remembered where I was, and I felt like the walls were closing in. I realize it’s nonsensical because I wanted to see her so badly, but, at the same time, this is the last place I wanted her to see ME. I could feel myself shutting down, even as she was opening herself up, and I couldn’t stop it.

She offered me the chance to fix things between us, but all I could hear was her saying that we were toxic. Why would she want this? She wanted to hear from me regarding why I left her out of my plan to trap Esme. She thought I was playing her along with Esme. I was protecting her. I won’t apologize for that. But I should have apologized for hurting her. I acknowledged it. And she was so vulnerable and open when she told me outright how hurt she was. But I didn’t apologize for it. Even though I truly am so very sorry. I just couldn’t say it. The words were just out of reach.

It was like having her there, so close, was more torturous than not having her there at all. And I know she was offering me a way back in, because that is the kind of wonderful person she is, but she can’t really want to see me like this. So, I did what I do best. I turned up the snark, and threw her not visiting in her face, telling her I didn’t know she cared when she expressed concern. And it only got worse when I tried to deflect by bringing up the phone call and her not answering. She said she was asleep. In a hotel. After a long day at a comic book convention with that cop. Ignoring, for a moment, the entire premise that he would legitimately have the notion to invite Trina Robinson to a comic book convention of all places – I mean does he even know her at all – the fact that she went away for an overnight trip with him means things are serious between them; more serious than I can bear to think about to be honest. And I’m sure you will be overwhelmingly astonished to hear this, but I didn’t handle that well. In fact, I think I literally saw red, and immediately cut the visit short. I tried not to let that out on her. It’s not her fault. It is entirely mine. But, forgive me if I don’t want to sit and hear about how that guy gets to be out there and at least attempt to make her happy – comic convention notwithstanding. I mean, he could have at least taken her to an authentic art show.

And because Trina is who she is, she still tried to get through to me. She told me she was grateful for what I did for her, even if it was the wrong thing. Which would be a great thing to hear, coming from her, if I could feel it. But I was just so…deflated. I have been at this penitentiary for weeks now. And I have reached such a low that even seeing the one person I love most in the world can’t seem to pull me out of this. She was perfect. She said all of the things I had hoped to hear. And I just couldn’t receive them. In fact, I was almost angry at her for saying them. In what world does that make sense?

My time in here is up soon. Working out has brought me some peace. As has reading. I’m going to keep my head down and keep at that. And when I get out, who knows, maybe I’ll find a place to start over. There is nothing I want more in this world than for Trina to be happy. I just don’t think I can sit and watch it happen with someone else.

I hope you don’t worry too much about me Mother. I’m a Cassadine. And I’m a Matthews. I will land on my feet somehow. I just need to get through this fog.

Your Loving Son,

Spencer Cassadine

Trina folded the letter gently and put it back in the envelope. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to read that one again. She had just been thinking about her hopes that he had passed away peacefully from the drugs Esme had given him before drowning. It was unsettling to then read about how tortured and depressed he felt in Pentonville. It’s not that it was a surprising revelation. It was jarring seeing him in there. There was a brief light in his eye when he walked in, but it was quickly replaced by this distant gaze. And there was this simmering anger that she’d since come to think was about his father and Esme but this letter noted that it was also was about her, and her staying away. He clearly didn’t feel justified in the anger he felt, but he felt it nonetheless and she hated that.

He should have trusted her with the truth about his plan with Esme. He hurt her terribly in that interrogation room by pretending to not believe in her innocence. And what he went through was a definite consequence of that choice. But she still hated knowing how much he was hurting. Because despite how boneheaded his choice was, it was coming from a place of love. He was genuinely trying to fix things.

It was interesting he seemed to leave out the tidbit about his anger towards her when they discussed their tense encounter months later, after an interesting night at Kelly’s. The night was interesting because he’d applied a bit of pressure on her and gotten her to admit that she wasn’t pretending during their whole fake dating episode. Of course, she panicked from all the pressure he was applying and from the way he was looking at her and dropped him squarely in the friendzone. Or maybe she was testing him. But he didn’t flinch. There was some double talk that didn’t escape her. “I’m not like my father. When I make a commitment, I stick to it. And I’m ready to do just that.” She knew he wasn’t just talking about his soon to be born baby brother.

He walked her back to the dorms that night. They took the long route, along the pier. Neither seemingly in a hurry to be rid of the other’s company, even though they were going to see each other at Britt’s funeral the next day.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way back to the dorm, you know.”

“Trina, we’ve been over this. What kind of gentleman would I be – what kind of ‘friend’ for that matter,” he lifted his hands in air quotes as he seemed to have trouble spitting out the word, “if I didn’t ensure said friend made it back safely. Especially with a killer still on the loose.”

“Why the air quotes on friend?” Trina giggled.

“Well, I’m not sure friend adequately describes you and me.” He gave her a devilish glance, with his bottom lip drawn between his teeth.

"Do you have a better word?" Trina side eyed him.

"I'm working on one," he replied, his eyes straight ahead. Trina shot him a curios glance. “Plus, you could change your mind on this 'friends' thing in the next block or two…” he chuckled.

“Hey!” she smacked his arm. “I told you I didn’t mean it when I said we weren’t friends the last time. I was hurt.”

“I know,” Spencer glanced at her again, this time his gaze was more sincere.

“Besides, I do recall you essentially rejecting my offer of friendship…” Trina stuck her nose in the air and glanced at him sideways.

Spencer strode in front of her and turned to face her, continuing his pace backwards. “Lies. I would never reject a Trina Robinson offer of friendship. But you have rejected mine - what - 4 times.”

“Three. And yes, you absolutely did.”

“When?” he stopped and reached out to stop her as well, his hand grazing her hip.

She glanced at his hand and then up at him and he yanked it back quickly, pulling his hands behind his back. “Pentonville.”

He stared at her silently for a moment chewing on his bottom lip. “That doesn’t count,” he replied before turned to resume their walk.

Trina stood in shock for a moment and then hustled to catch up to him. His long legs made that quite the task. “Wait! What do you mean?” She grabbed his hand once she caught up to him and pulled him to a stop. He looked down at their hands and then back at her. She didn’t pull hers away.

“I wasn’t myself in Pentonville. I had to find this weird balance of keeping a low profile and not stirring the pot with anyone around me, and I had bottled up all this anger I felt…”

“Anger?” she squeezed his hand and he stared back at it.

“About my father,” he replied, raising his eyes towards hers.

“Right,” Trina mumbled, gently letting go of his hand.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you that day. What made you decide to come? It had been 65 days...”

“You were counting?”

“There’s not much else to do but count the days, Trina.” He was looking at her intensely, but his face was mostly unreadable.

“Well…I got that call from you.” She paused to look at him.

“While you were in New York. At a comic book convention. With Rory," he rolled his eyes as he spat out Rory's name.

Trina shot him a warning look. She didn’t want him bad mouthing Rory.

“Sorry,” he replied genuinely. “I know you must miss him. I’m sure it was a good trip.” His voice sounded sincere but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Well…” Trina winced. “It wasn’t really my cup of tea,” she paused as she watch a knowing grin creep across Spencer’s face. “It is a shame we went all the way to New York and I didn’t get to see an authentic art exhibit or a museum.” Spencer bit his lip and nodded. “What?”

“Nothing.” He took a deep breath and turned to continue their walk. “You were saying…:”

“Oh right…I got that call from you. And not long after I was with Joss and she mention her and Cam visiting you. And how they let it slip that I knew about the Esme plan”

“You knew…the day I got sent to Pentonville…” He completed for her, his voice even,and his face unreadable and aimed straight ahead.

“Yes,” she replied. “Ava told me, and I tried to get to the station in time. But you were already gone.”

“It’s not like you didn’t know where I was going.” Spencer added, his face again unreadable, zoned in on some unremarkable landmark in front of them.

“Funny you mention that…Cam said the same thing at Kelly’s a few days later and he told me a little more about the visit and about how it was a good thing you never gave me that letter,” Trina shrugged, “”Combine all of that with finding out the hook attacks were somehow linked to me and believing at the time it was Esme, I thought I should see you.”

“And…what made you decide then as a good time to offer me a chance to fix things?”

“I mean I had plans to do that whenever I saw you next. Why did you push me away?” She stopped walking. He took a few more steps and sighed.

“I told you, I wasn’t myself. I really was happy to see you. I had hoped you’d visit that whole time.” He exhaled. “I just wasn’t in a good place mentally. I really didn’t have a lot of visitors. I wasn’t having a lot of conversations. I was just trapped in my thoughts for weeks. And a lot of them were pretty dark. The person I was in that room - that wasn’t the person I wanted you to offer another chance to. I don’t know if you know this, but you did give me the kick in the butt I needed to to pull myself together after your visit though. I realized my time was going to be up soon and that I had to find a way to be ready to be out here again.”

Trina nodded and titled her head to regard him. “It was gone you know, that patented Spencer spark.”

“Hm?”

“In your eyes. It was gone. And that was so unnerving. I’d never seen you like that. I’m glad it’s back.” Trina offered him a warm smile.

“Yeah me too,” he returned her smile.

“Even though things are still rough for you right now…” Trina mused

Spencer nodded. “Even though,” he agreed.

“I know you really loved Britt,” Trina reached out and touched his arm, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“I did.” He replied.

“I know I said I’d never tell, but do you want to know what she said about you behind your back at her party?

“Hm?” He smiled at the memory.

“She said ‘he’s the best’.”

He nodded, his eyes filling a little with tears. “She was awesome,” he took a deep breath to regain his composure. “Thanks for offering to go with me tomorrow,” he said as they started walking again.

“That’s what friends are for.” Trina looping her arm in his and leaning on him a little.

“Right. Friends,” he repeated quietly. Trina got the sneaky suspicion he wasn’t quite convinced they were truly just friends.

Trina giggled to herself. Spencer really hated the word friends when it came to them. But he endured it patiently, waiting for her to be ready for more.

Remembering that conversation gave her hope that this next letter wouldn’t be quite as dark. Because even though Britt had just died and he had found out his father was having a baby with his psycho ex-girlfriend, he was in a far better place than he was in Pentonville. And she hadn’t thought of it then, but with all this new insight into his inner thoughts, she wondered if his quiet “even though” was a nod to her. Was her being in his life again what had him in a better place and kept him from going back to that dark place? Because he certainly did the work to pull himself out. He was a different man when he sauntered into the Post Oak Grille when she was on her anniversary date with Rory. She opened this one and saw a different name on the letter, and finally understood the “mostly” Laura was referring to.

2/3/2023

Dear Britt,

I know, I know. Writing a dead person is a little crazy. Don’t judge me. I started doing this with my mother about a year ago and it’s helped me. And after the day I had today, having to say goodbye to you, and confronting my father, I just wanted to put some thoughts down.

I’m really going to hate living in a world where you don’t exist. It just doesn’t seem real. I’m grateful that you had your mother with you when you left us and you weren’t alone. I’m even more grateful that the last words I said to you were that I’d be very proud to be exactly like you, and I meant that. Because you were strong, independent, unapologetically you. You took risks. You took accountability for your mistakes. You took a chance on love – even if it didn’t work out – you put yourself out there.

I remember vividly when you came into my life when I was little. You seemed to be one of the very few people to truly get me. You gave the best hugs, and I wanted you to be my stepmother so badly. I was so heartbroken when things didn’t work out with you and my father, but I’m so grateful that you made the effort to keep a relationship with me through the years, and you even forgave me when I screwed up royally and unsurprisingly. I will always cherish the memories of our adventures together when I was young and the talks we’ve shared since.

I’m so glad you finally got to meet Trina. However briefly. I’m pretty confident you approve. I know what it looked like the night of your party, but we were only pretending to be a couple to try to lure Esme – who we thought was the hook – out of hiding. And yes, before you say anything, it was indeed a very convenient arrangement for me. And I did indeed enjoy every minute of it. And to be honest, it didn’t feel fake. It felt real. The lines there are blurry and it’s a bit confusing, but I don’t want to push her. I know she’s grieving her own loss in Rory, and I don’t want to take advantage of that. But there are moments - these stolen moments we’ve had where it feels like she wants what I want. But whenever I seem to make any headway, she seems to lean on the word friend. So, we are friends, for now. Until she’s ready for more. I can wait. I’m just happy to have her back in my life. She was really incredible today when I needed someone I could trust and count on. She listened to me about you, she gave me perspective about this custody thing with my father, and she was just there. I honestly didn’t think I could love her any more than I did, but I do. More and more every day.

I know you want me to work things out with my father. But I’m afraid things are beyond repair now. I refuse to let him ruin another child’s life and abandon them the way he abandoned me. And the thing is, this child won’t have you to help give them perspective. So, they need me even more.

If you see my mother up there, will you tell her about me? Try to tell her to the good stuff and tell her I think about her often, just as I will you.

Goodbye Britt.

I love you,

Spencer

“Is that a smile I see on my beautiful granddaughter’s face?”

Trina set the letter down and looked up at Marshall. Was she smiling? She touched her mouth. She was indeed. What a sweet, sweet letter Spencer wrote. It was far less formal than the letters he wrote to his mother, which made sense considering he actually knew and formed a bond with Britt from a young age. There were a couple pictures of him and Britt from when he was young in the photo album Laura put together, no doubt to help provide context to Trina for how close they were. Young Spencer clearly adored her.

“Trina?”

“I’m so sorry! I’m just lost in my thoughts.”

“Good ones it seems.” He took a seat next to her. “If it’s making you smile.”

“Well, not all good. But I just read a sweet note.”

“Ah yes, the infamous letters from Spencer to his mother?”

“Well, this one was to Britt Westbourne after her funeral. I know that sounds morbid…”

“If you are smiling it must not be. You seem to be doing a little better lately. Seems your dad, Marcus, was just the medicine you needed.”

Trina grinned. “It’s been good having him home.”

“And going through young Spencer’s things. Has that been helping?”

“I wasn’t sure it would. But…yes. It has. Some of it has been hard to read. I just read a letter he wrote while in Pentonville that was disturbing in how depressed and angry he was. But, it also explained a particularly difficult encounter I had with him. I thought I understood it, but it went even deeper than I thought.”

Marshall nodded his head. “We were all going to watch a movie in the theater room tonight. Do you think you’re up to spending time with us tonight or do you want to be alone? It’s getting a little nippy out here.” He stood up to head back inside.

“Can I join you in five minutes?” Trina asked.

“You can take ten,” Marshall answered, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Trina tidied up the area and tucked the letters safely away. She stood up with the blankets still wrapped around her and dug her white dove out of her jean pocket. “I miss you Spencer. It’s weird because I feel like I knew you better than anyone, but I’m still learning so much about you. I wish I could have learned more. It’s been hard for me to accept that you are gone. But if you are, and yes I know that sounds crazy that I’m still saying if, but if you are… I really hope you are sitting with your mom and Britt and catching them up on everything.” She kissed her hand and reached up towards the sky. “Good night, my love.”

Chapter 6: Holding on to Him:

Chapter Text

Trina sat in the bay window of her bedroom staring at the rain outside on this lazy Sunday afternoon. She brought her old favorite silk scarf to her nose to take a whiff. It smelled like her, but she could smell him too. Laura returned it to her in the bag of Spencer’s things she gave him, wrapped up in one of his pillowcases. She blushed wondering what Laura must think about how it got in his room. It’s not quite how she might think.

He’d stolen it from her at some point during their New York trip. Weeks later, she saw it peeking out under his pillowcase in his room. She chuckled to herself remembering the day she discovered it. It was a rare day when he was home alone just before Esme moved out. She had stopped by after taking a final, just wanting to see him. She had another one the next day that she would have to study for that meant she wouldn’t see him that evening, so she was just trying to get in a Spencer break. And that ‘Spencer break’ turned into a herculean effort on his part to get her up into his room. It’s not that she didn’t want to do the things he wanted to do up in that room. Of course she did. Consent wasn’t the issue. The location, however…felt weird.

“What happens if they get home just as we are coming out of your room?” Trina huffed out the words between groans as he drew his tongue along the line from her shoulder to the sweet spot on her neck.

“Bring your bag and we’ll tell them you've been hard at work,” he paused to pull her flush against him and nibble on her ear. “Studying, of course.”

“Mmmm…” Trina moaned at the feel of him. “And…” he was so distracting, she was having trouble forming sentences. “What if they arrive while we’re in the middle of…things.”

Spencer smiled into her neck and pulled back out to look at her. “Well then I guess you’ll just have to be extra quiet, baby.” He bent down to kiss her, wasting no time thrusting his tongue into her mouth to swirl with hers. A low groan escaped his throat when she met his heat with heat of her own.

Trina’s willpower was fully dwindling at this point. His voice was low and sexy, and her knees were buckling from the way he was kissing her. But she managed to pull away from him slightly. “Are you sure you can keep quiet Mister?”

“Oh…I think I’m up for the challenge,” he whispered. Before Trina even had time to think, Spencer hoisted her up so that she was straddling his waist, bent down to grab her bag and carried her up the stairs.

When they reached his room, he gently placed her back on her feet and set her bag down, closing and locking the door behind them. She took a moment to look around. She hadn’t been there before. It was largely impersonal, which made sense considering this was originally just Laura and Kevin’s guest room. She removed her jacket and walked over to the small night stand next to the bed where he kept a small, framed picture of her, smiling into the camera – smiling at him - with the sun setting behind her, from their day meandering around the city in New York. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Spencer was watching her. His eyes were shining and all the patience that seemed to have left his body downstairs seemed to have returned as she looked around.

She moved to look at a small white board on the wall opposite the bed that hung over a small desk where he had some items pinned with magnets and he moved with her, hugging her from behind. She perused some of the items: a silly strip of photo booth pictures of them taken in a vinyl record store they went to in Soho, a news clipping about Stanford’s soccer team highlighting Cam, a picture of Trina holding Ace, an old receipt from Kelly’s….

“Wait…” Trina pulled the receipt out. “This is my writing. ‘Thanks for the coffee.’ Really? You kept that?”

Spencer took the receipt from her and placed it back on the board. “No touching, Miss Robinson. These are all precious items.” He kissed her on the cheek.

“A coffee receipt? Really?” she asked, turning in arms.

He chuckled and pulled her closer. “It’s not just any receipt. You took the time to write that note for starters, and it’s from the day you told me that you were head over heels crazy about me.”

Trina eyed him suspiciously. “Funny – I don’t ever recall saying those words when you were working at Kelly’s.”

“Okay, okay, those weren’t your exact words,” he rolled his eyes and shrugged, “but I was just reading between lines,” he raised his eyebrows playfully and rubbed his hands along her waist.

“And…what were the exact words?” she asked, side eyeing him further.

Spencer shook his head dismissively and rattled off a nonchalant explanation. “I said something about wishing I could go back to being the uncomplicated and simple Victor you met, and you pointed out that he was a lying jerk but that Spencer,” his voice changed when he said his name and he paused to point at himself, “that’s me, was growing on you.” He emphasized the word growing and raised his eyebrows again. “Mmm-hmm.”

Trina grinned and closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Of course that was your interpretation.” She leaned her forehead into his chest, and then looked up at him. She giggled when he offered her a teasing wink.

“The semantics of what you meant then aren’t important. How do you feel now, Trina Robinson?” he asked as he turned and leaned against the desk, lowering his height and pulling her between his legs.

“Right now?” she asked as she allowed herself to be guided without resistance. “I’m a little annoyed,” she replied.

Spencer narrowed his eyes and lifted a hand in a swiping motion as if to dismiss that notion. “Okay, but underneath that very, very mild annoyance…”

Trina smiled as he pulled her even closer and began playing with the waistband of her jeans. “I am indeed head over heels crazy about you, Spencer Cassadine,” she relented. She reached forward and began to tug his lightweight hoodie up and over his head, and he raised his arms to help her along. She drew her bottom lip into her teeth as she let her eyes drift to his chest, and she lazily reached out to lightly drag her fingers over his heart.

Spencer covered her hand in his and raised it to mouth, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. He just looked at her for a moment, brushing his thumb along her hairline and ear. “And I am madly in love with you, pretty girl.” Then his lips found hers and he kissed her hungrily. He stood up to his full height, hoisting her up with him and backing her up towards the bed and laying her down gently.

Trina matched his hunger and pulled down him flush against her. They lost time as their tongues swirled, their lips sucked, and their teeth nibbled. She could feel his arousal jutting through his jeans and her body reacted, grinding up against it, eliciting an almost animalistic growl from deep in his chest. When Spencer tore himself away, rolling on to his back, Trina rose to lean on her elbow as she watched him remove the remainder of his clothing, freeing his straining shaft. He caught her looking and bit his lip.

She bit hers in return and turned on her back, leaning forward to remove her clothes while he looked on eagerly propped on his elbow as she had just done. Only this man, looking like that, and looking at her the way he was, with the ability to make her feel the things she felt could make her ignore where she was and be fine with losing one or two…maybe three hours of study time. She was so willing and ready to be lost in his touch.

She hissed as he closed the gap between them, and his hand found its way to the nerve bundles in her core. She reached up to grab the back of his neck and pull him back into a searing kiss while his long fingers found their way inside her. “Spencer,” she whispered, tearing her mouth away from his and throwing her head back. Through hooded eyes she saw him grin devilishly, as he began to forge a path of kisses down her body, and she shivered when she felt his mouth cover her center and his tongue suck in her cl*t.

Before long she was clutching a pillow to smother her screams as he took her over the edge as he relentlessly lapped at her, seemingly intent on not letting her escape the feeling even as it almost became too much. By the time he released her legs and began kissing his way up her body, her insides were throbbing. When he found his way to her neck she whispered, “I need to feel you.” She reached down between them and wrapped her small hand around him. “Now.”

He acquiesced easily. Closing his eyes, he let her guide him to her entrance. They both groaned as he entered her. Trina was a bit louder than Spencer and he stilled himself smiling as she covered her mouth. He nudged her hand out of the way with his nose and kissed her, swallowing their moans. It wasn’t long before neither seemed to care much about the noises they made, they were too wrapped up in the urgent need to feel as close to one another as possible. They started off slow, with Spencer burying himself into her while Trina pulled on him and writhed beneath him, her whole body begging for more. But as tension rose, the pace became more fervent, and Trina grasped at the headboard trying to find leverage to meet his thrusts with those of her own. He growled his approval in her ear, “Yes, baby, you feel so good”, and she repeated the movement over and over, finding it was the perfect leverage to get at what she was chasing. He must have known she was climaxing because he held himself still and held on to her as she convulsed around him.

She found herself at her peak again not long after, straddling him, while he leaned back balancing on one sturdy arm while bracing her back and helping her balance with the other. He joined her over the edge this time and they both leaned into each other lost in the feel of their mutual release, and when they finally came down, Spencer pulled her back onto his chest as he laid back onto the bed holding on to her tightly as they both worked to steady their breathing.

“Spencer! Honey are you in there,” Laura’s voice rang in from outside the room. “I didn’t think you were home, but then I heard some rattling.”

Trina raised her head and looked at Spencer in sheer panic, shaking her head silently begging him not to tell her she was there. The man was literally still inside her. But Spencer, being Spencer seemed wholly unphased.

“Sorry Grandmother, I just got done… doing a little workout.” He winked at Trina.

“Oh, okay. Do you want us to make you a place setting for dinner?”

“No that’s ok. I ate already. I’m going to shower. I’ll grab something later.”

“Ok honey.”

They lay still until Laura’s footsteps made their way down the stairs.

Trina rolled off Spencer and smacked him on the chest. “Just finished a workout?” she whispered derisively.

“Trina. Baby. I cannot lie to my grandmother.” He whispered back, face full of mock innocence.

Trina couldn’t hold back a laugh and shook her head. “What am I going to do?” Trina looked at him helplessly.

Spencer smiled and pulled her against him. “I guess you’re stuck with me for a little while kiddo. You can wash up in the bathroom. You have your books and your laptop so you can study right?”

“Yes, But, what about food? I need food.” Trina pouted.

“I will make sure the lady has food,” he smiled. “And if you simply cannot be seen by Kevin and my grandmother, we can sneak you out either when they go to bed or before they get up. Whichever you prefer.”

“You are a little too good at this,” Trina noted.

“And you are astonishingly terrible,” he teased. “I mean, really. You stowed away on a boat, disabled an entire engine and faced down my crazy Uncle Victor, but this…this is what phases you. I’m disappointed.”

Trina grabbed a pillow next to him prepared to bop him on the head with it when a familiar cloth slipped out of it. Spencer saw it at the same time she did and tried to grab it before she did, but she got to it first. “Spencer!” If there was a way to yell and whisper at the same time, she had figured it out. “Is this my scarf? My very missing head scarf that I lost in New York?”

“Hm?” he cleared his throat.

“My favorite old head scarf that you pretended to help me look for in the hotel room in New York.”

“That’s not true,” he replied with a boyish protest.” I did help you look for it. And it was truly missing. It just somehow ended up with my luggage. And I kept it.” He took it from her and raised it to his nose.

“Why didn’t you give it back?” Trina propped her head up, balancing on her elbow .

“Well, I know we have our doves and I love what they mean but this…this smells like you. And since I can’t be with you every night, I like having a piece of you here with me. I sleep with it in my pillowcase.”

Trina shoved herself off the bed in a huff. “I can’t stand you,” she whispered loudly, heading into his ensuite bathroom.

He followed her. “What does that mean,” he asked, his tone not so hushed.

“It means, I hate how you can literally be deceitful, and I want to be mad at you , but then you go and have this adorably sweet reason for it, and I can't even be mad at you. I just want to kiss you.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her from behind as they looked in the mirror. “I didn’t think you’d miss it that much after we bought all those others in Soho,” he noted. “But if this has some sentimental value I was unaware of…”

“No…it’s ok. I like the sentimental value it holds for you,” she replied before turning and kissing him on the cheek “Keep it.”

Hours later, Trina was waiting for Spencer to come out of his ensuite so that he could quiz her one last time on this last section of her notes. It was about 12am and Spencer had kept his word and fed her a lovely selection of meats and cheeses from the kitchen downstairs as well as some delicious chocolate-covered strawberries. He’d spent the evening gamely quizzing her on some of her notes and he quietly read while sitting next to her while she organized more notes. He was having an issue with his contacts and needed to take them out. When she remarked that she’d never seen him take out his contacts before, he noted that they were 24-hour 30-day continuous wear contacts. Of course they were.

He came out of the bathroom wearing dark framed glasses. From their tussling earlier and laying around in his bed all evening, his normally somewhat tidy hair was more tousled than usual - but in the sexiest way and in contrast with the structured frame of the glasses. In a word, he looked sexy. “Well, hello” she said flirtatiously.

He grinned at her almost bashfully.

“Hi,” he replied. “Do we need to review last quiz again?” he asked as he climbed into bed next to her.

“I think I’ve prepared enough actually,” she said with a yawn.

“Ok. Do you want to try to catch a few hours of sleep before you have to go? Kevin and Grandmother are up at 5:45 each morning like clockwork. So, we should be good with a 5am wake up.”

“So, you are saying you want to sleep?” Trina asked with a slight pout.

Spencer grinned adoringly. “Trina, you’re laying here in my t-shirt with no underwear on. But this isn’t about what I want. You need at least some sleep so you can be at your best for this test right.”

Trina knew he was right. “Yes, but you look so damned cute in those glasses.”

He pulled her onto his side. “I’ll wear them again. I promise.” He kissed the top of her head. "As long as you promise to wear nothing but my t-shirt again. Now get some sleep.”

Trina relented and cuddled up on his side and closed her eyes.

Ever the dutiful boyfriend, Spencer shook Trina awake at 4:55am with her clothes and coffee in hand. He’d put her discarded clothes from the day before in a bag, gave her a hoodie and some joggers to put on and helped usher her down the stairs. She was half awake as she followed him down the stairs her hand in his as she allowed him to guide her, but she was fully awake when she felt his body tense up. “Esme. Why are you up so early?” he asked, his voice low.

“I couldn’t sleep. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Is Ace okay?” Spencer interrupted.

“He’s asleep.”

“Ok good.” Spencer replied.

“You ready, baby?” Spencer turned and smiled down at Trina who was looking up at him expectantly.

“I am,” he replied. “Follow me my love,” he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the front door. Trina didn’t look, mostly because she could barely open her eyes, but she was sure she heard Esme gasp.

Esme. In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t wise to antagonize her like that. Spencer would later tell Trina that Esme tried to guilt him into some “what if Ace needed you that night while you were busy with Trina” schtick. To which he reminded her that he wasn’t going to be around when she moved out, so that would have been a perfect opportunity for her to practice handling whatever it was on her own. Not that him flaunting Trina in her face was the reason her memories came back and she went psycho again. That’s not what she meant. She shook her head. She didn’t want to be like them.

She was grieving. She was, at times, gripped in some pretty dark depression, but she saw things and she heard things. They blame him. And it makes her so angry. She heard the whispers. “If he just hadn’t given Ace to Nikolas, he’d still be here.” They don’t know that. They weren’t there. Trina had nothing to do with Ace being given to Nikolas, and yet, Trina was the person she tried to kill. Spencer was trying to shield Ace from someone crazy enough to preplan kidnapping and drugging someone. Taking it even further they all blame Spencer for bringing Esme to Port Charles and completely gloss over the fact that she specifically targeted him, and sought him out, with that end goal in mind. He was her victim as much as Trina, Joss and Cam were. And he didn’t cause his own death.

She knew Laura loved her grandson, and by her own words, she was admiring the man he was becoming. But she really didn’t know the man he’d already become. In so many ways, Trina felt like she was the only left one who truly saw him – aside from Cam, but he was off living his life. And she really had no control over what other people thought. At least Curtis and her dad were much better at listening to her and being respectful. And they seemed to genuinely show him the respect he deserves.

As for her own mother, she wasn’t required to see him, but Trina in turn wasn’t required to listen to her passively blame him for his own death either. So, she kept her distance. She knows her mother likely reached out to her father, Marcus, because she felt that distance. She was right to do so. She loved her mom, but she refused to hear even one sly comment about Spencer come out of her mouth. So, space seemed like the optimal solution.

“Trina, sweetie, would you like some tea or anything?” Curtis peeked his head in after knocking likely.

“What - you’re walking now, so you are just serving folks, “ Trina quipped halfheartedly.

Curtis smiled. “I was going to have you mother bring it up.”

Trina’s face changed. “No, thanks. I’m fine. I’ll be down later.”

“Do you mind if I come in for a second?”

“Sure,” Trina turned so she could face him as he sat on the bench next to her.

“You’ve spent time with most of us. You’ve spent one on one time with me, with Taggert, with Marshall and with Stella. But you’re only with your mom in group settings. It’s obvious. Are you upset with her?”

Trina took a moment to search for her words. “No. Not really. I just… don’t want to be.”

“What does that mean.”

“Just that I know how she felt about him and I also know her and how hard it is for her to avoid making slick comments. She was great in Paris. I think we should leave it at that.”

“Trina, your mother loves you.”

“Curtis, you know I’m reading these letters Spencer wrote to his mom, like a diary of sorts. Well, there’s one he wrote last summer where he details this struggle he had getting through to mom. That’s not exactly news to me. I mean, she didn’t hide her contempt for him. But what I didn’t know – what he never told me – was that she actively campaigned for him to break up with me. She flat out told him to leave me. She sent him home one day when I’d asked him to help move my things, and she let me believe he left without saying goodbye to go see Ace. And he never said a word. Because he never wanted me to have a strained relationship with her. And because he didn’t want that, I’m trying really hard not to want that either. But I cannot hear her bad mouth him or dismiss what we had. And I can’t hear her tell me how I’ll love again someday as if that will fix what’s broken inside of me right now. I just can’t. So I’m not trying to punish her. I’m really not. I’m trying to forgive her and heal enough so that I can be around her and not feel the sting of those sideways comments. I know she loves me. And she was never required to love him. I just needed her to respect me, and trust my judgement, and be happy for me.”

“Trina, you didn’t see how terrified she was when you were kidnapped on that ship.”

“I wasn’t kidnapped though. He was. I stowed away. He had no idea I was there. That was not his fault. And he did everything he could to save me. He risked being shot, starved, and thrown overboard. He fought three men to keep me from being thrown overboard. He took a beating so you could find me. He went back on that boat to find Victor so we all wouldn’t die from that pathogen knowing there were drones coming and he almost died from it. He has always done everything he could to save me. And then he did diesaving me. Is that not enough to earn her respect?” Trina was crying now.

“Trina, honey, he has earned her respect. We are forever grateful that you are here with us. You are upset over things that happened last summer…”

“No Curtis, I have heard things since…”

“Okay,” he nodded, and hugged her. “Okay. We could all stand to be more appreciative of how substantial your loss is. It can be easy to dismiss it because you were both so young, and Trina, you have so much life left to live. But I understand. I get it. And your mother can to if you would just talk to her.”

Trina inhaled deeply. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask,” he gave her a kiss on the forehead and got up to walk out.

Trina pulled the letter she had set aside earlier, deciding to re-read it.

8/9/2023

Dearest Mother,

My sincerest apologies for not checking in sooner. So much has happened in these last several months, as I’m sure you know. For a while there it felt like one thing after another after another kept hitting us in the teeth. And by us, I mean Trina and me. We are an us now, finally. We have been for a few months, which is not to say I haven’t almost blown it more than once. Everything is just so complicated. My father skipped town, leaving me with he responsibility to care for my baby brother, who’s mother just happens to be my psychotic ex who targeted Trina. So the three of us are living at my grandmother’s apartment, but she’s off God knows where in search of the deadbeat.

My crazed uncle, who I had grown to trust, kidnapped me and my brother the same night Trina and I became official with the goal of killing half the world’s population with some pathogen he and his brother concocted. My father conveniently stayed absent for all of it, even in the aftermath. Trina stowed away, unbeknownst to me initially and had a hand in saving us all. Mother, she was so brave, and she outsmarted Uncle Victor’s goofball goons for a good 24 hours before getting caught. Uncle Victor seemed to get a kick out of toying with us, deciding whether we’d live or die. I was willing to do anything to keep them from throwing Trina overboard, and later from using her as a test subject. I don’t think I could have handled losing her. It makes my heart stop just thinking about it now. But thankfully we made it through, thanks in large part to her being able to radio for help.

But this did not ingratiate me to her family – particularly her mother. Her family was already leery of me, given everything I put her through with Esme and pretending to believe Trina was guilty. And I get that. I knew I had to work to earn their trust when it came to Trina. And none of them have made it especially easy, but man, her mother is tough. I will never tell Trina this, but she has tried on a few occasions to convince me to break up with her. She believes I’ll never be worthy of her. And to be honest with you Mother, maybe she’s right.

I have a lot of anger right now towards my father that I’m trying really hard to work through. And towards myself. For trusting people I shouldn’t have. Like Esme. Like my Uncle Victor. For being so easily duped. And that anger hasn’t always come out in the most productive ways. Trina, herself, has witnessed me act out in in less than desirable ways with this one guy who moved in on Cameron's girlfriend Josslyn. And that has caused friction a few times. We had a huge fight over it, just before a crisis in her family hit. The crisis took priority and we never really addressed the fight after that - not fully. But she was very clear she didn’t like that side of me. On top of that, I do live with my psycho ex girlfriend and I am raising a baby with her. I know that Trina is giving me grace on that, but she shouldn’t have to. Surely there are men out there who wouldn’t put her through that. But, Mother, as you know, I’m an inherently selfish man, and I just can’t let her go. Not unless SHE tells me she’s not happy and I can no longer make her happy.

Her mom isn’t making things easy though. Tonight, Trina asked me to help her move back in to her parents home while her biological father recovers from a gunshot wound. I was happy to oblige. Her mother blocked me from following Trina upstairs with her bags and essentially asked me to leave. She wouldn’t even allow me to say good-bye. Trina texted me later scolding me for not saying goodbye and telling her I had to go, so it’s clear her mother didn’t tell her she asked me to go. And I’m not going to tell Trina either. I don’t want to be the cause of any issues between Trina and her mom. I didn’t have you growing up. I don’t want Trina to be without her mom. Not over me. So I’ll take my licks. And hopefully one day, I will earn some grace.

I think you’d be proud of me and how I’ve stepped up to care for my brother. I didn’t realize how hard it would be, but I really do love him. I’ve sacrificed a lot to make sure he’s being cared for and to keep an eye on this “new” Esme, but isn’t that what I’m supposed to do since my father walked away? I feel like I’m walking a tightrope when it comes to holding on to Trina and caring for Ace. But so far, she tends to encourage me to spend time with him, or to check on him. She seems to understand why I’m doing this. I do know, however, that that doesn’t mean she likes it. And this summer should have been about us and instead it’s been about recovering from this huge ordeal, and both of us being people our families can count on…sometimes at the expense of our relationship. I need to find a way to find balance there. Because I don’t want to lose her. Not after I waited so long to have her. So if you have any thoughts you want to send my way….feel free.

Your Loving Son,

Spencer

Trina heard what Curtis said, but she wasn’t quite ready to extend that olive branch with her mother. The intel from this letter was just a little too fresh. She grabbed the head scarf and decided to lay down for a nap, suddenly feeling drained. She set a one hour timer on her phone and promised herself she’d make an appearance downstairs after she took this one hour nap.

--------

Trina ran her hands nervously through her hair as she stared at her phone waiting for Spencer to pick up. It had rung at least 4 times already. She needed him to answer. On the fifth ring she saw the dots and the video begin connecting. The screen was pitch black and she could hear mumbling and a groan. “Spencer? Spencer? Are you okay?”

He groaned and seemed to hiss in pain and then replied almost incoherently. “Trina? What’s wrong?”

“Turn your light on so I can see you.” She heard him grunt but could hear him fumbling until he lit his bedside lamp, and she could see his face. She let out a relieved sigh. It was still heavily bruised from the beating he took, but she could seem him. He was really there. She sank back down into her bed and let out a sigh of relief.

Spencer was clearly trying to get his wits about him. He was just startled awake by his hysterical girlfriend, indulging in her insanity through a fog. Trina buried her face in her hand. “Trina, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry. I had this terrible dream, and it felt so real. I just needed to know you were okay.”

“I am okay. But you clearly aren’t. Tell me about the dream.” He rubbed his face and sat up, giving her his full attention, which only made her feel worse.

“It’s okay, we can talk about it later.” Trina tried to deflect, embarrassed by the whole ordeal. “I just got spooked.”

“Clearly. I’m up now. Tell me,” He settled back into his bed, his eyes full of concern.

“You were surrounded by water, but somehow, I wasn’t. I could feel it, but I wasn’t…in it. But you were, and you were drowning. The water was so cold and dark, but I couldn’t get to you. You just kept drifting further and further away. It felt so real.” Trina shook her head to rid herself of the haunting vision.

“Baby, I didn’t drown. I swam to shore. Your voice saved me, remember?” His voice was soft and reassuring.

Trina shook her head. “Something about this felt different. I was calling for you, but you couldn’t hear me. Your face was so blank.”

“Trina, we just survived a crazy ordeal. It’s natural for you to have some kind of PTSD surrounding all of it.”

“That’s just it Spencer. After that explosion, I knew you weren’t gone. I was screaming at everyone who would listen that they needed to keep looking for you. I knew you made it. But this…this felt so different.”

“It was just a dream, Baby. I wish I could be there to hold you so you could feel that it wasn’t real. All I can tell you is that I’m here. I made it. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Trina took a moment to look at him. She knew his face was bruised obviously, but through the phone she could see that his torso was black and blue too. “Spencer, show me your chest.”

“Huh?”

“Are those bruises?”

“Oh,” he looked down. ‘Yeah, uh, those guys did a number on me, and I think this one on my shoulder is from the impact when I hit the water. But it really only hurts when I raise it.” He groaned when he attempted to demonstrate.

“You let me just crash into you when I saw you, and you were hurt like that,” Trina covered her mouth.

Spencer’s face softened. “Trina, I was so happy to see you, I didn’t feel anything. You didn’t hurt me,” he insisted.

“Did you get checked out at GH?” Trina asked, her face contorted in concern.

“Uh, no, but I’m sure –“

“So, you’re telling me no one took the time to make sure you were okay?” Trina’s voice rose an octave. “You could have a concussion. Your ribs could be cracked. What about internal bleeding? In fact, I’m going to pick you up now and take you to urgent care.”

“Trina, slow down.” Spencer had a smile on his face which only made Trina more agitated.

“I’m serious Spencer!”

“Oh, I know you are! I just need you to breathe for a second. The very last thing I want is for your family to wake up and find you gone again. I’ve already got my work cut out for me to get back in their good graces – although I don’t think I ever was there to begin with.” He chuckled. He must have seen that she still wasn’t amused. “Ok, how about this, I’ll go in the morning. Will that work?”

She let out a relieved sigh. “Yes, thank you.”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you. Seeing a doctor is easiest among them if it will put your mind at ease. But I promise you I’m fine. I’m sore. I’m still waiting for the feeling to return in a couple toes. But I’m fine.”

“Okay, as long as we get that confirmed by a professional.”

“Deal. You really should get some rest. It’s been a crazy few days.”

Trina chortled. “I’ll say.” She sighed and took a moment to tie her head scarf that came off during her nightmare and then settled back into a comfortable spot.

“Did I know you slept with a scarf on? It’s silk right?”

Trina smiled. “It is silk, why do you ask?”

“I just like knowing things about you.” His voice was soft, and it was nice to hear the softness and to talk about something mundane without all the urgency of the world possibly ending around them.

“Is me sleeping with a silk scarf on a problem for you?” she teased.

“Not at all. I’ll make sure I have some in abundance should I ever be fortunate to have you spend the night. You like butterflies, right?”

Trina smiled. “I do. Did I know you slept with your shirt off?” Trina quipped.

“Oh, I sleep naked,” Spencer quipped back without flinching. “Fair warning…” he smiled.

“Liar! I saw your sweat pants,” Trina rolled her eyes and chuckled.

“So, your saying you were looking?” Spencer teased.

Trina just grinned and rolled her eyes in response. “Spencer?”

“Hm?” he replied, seemingly getting comfortable in his bed.

“Will you stay on the phone with me tonight?” Trina asked with a yawn.

“Of course. Talk to me about something…” he requested.

“Like what?

“Like anything that has nothing to do with deadly pathogens, crazy criminal uncles, psycho exes, paternity reveals or… you know anything like that.” He paused when he heard her giggle. “Tell me about all the boys who’s heart you broke before me.”

“That’s a very quick story,” Trina retorted.

“I don’t believe you.” Spencer shot her a dubious glance.

“No really. Joss was the one who got most of the attention. I was the ‘smart best friend. When it came down to it, boys typically chose Joss.”

“Josslyn?” Spencer guffawed. “Over YOU?”

“Yes Joss,” Trina replied. “I know you have eyes Spencer.”

“Trina, Joss used to dress up as corn. Every day.”

Trina chortled. “When you were 8.”

Spencer shrugged. “Well, the image stuck. And I’m sorry but she’s no Trina Robinson.”

Trina grinned bashfully. “So, you’re saying you and Cam weren’t fighting over Joss when you were young?”

“Oh God no! But Joss and I did pretend to be together to make Cameron and Emma jealous and break them up.” He paused and let out an audible longing sigh. “Emma Drake.”

“Watch it Cassadine!”

“She, of course, could not hold a candle to you. But you would not believe the hijinks and trouble I got into over that girl, who, it turns out, did not give me the time of day.”

“Oh no! How is that even possible?” Trina replied in mock offense.

“I know right. I was a catch.”

Trina giggled. “I bet you were. Tell me about these hijinks of yours.” Trina set her phone next to her and closed her eyes as he happily detailed his and Joss’ plot to break up Cam and this Emma person.

Trina sat up as her alarm went off. Sometimes it was hard for her to remember what she dreamed about, but memories were easy to remember. And this one perplexed her. She had forgotten about that nightmare. The scarf must have triggered it. Of course, at the time she thought the nightmare was about him almost drowning after the explosion in Greenland. But what if it wasn’t a nightmare. What if it was a vision about what was going to happen in Paris. What if it was a warning and she just didn’t understand it? It’s not that she really believed in that kind of stuff, but she remembered how utterly haunted she felt by that dream. It stuck with her for days. She remembered how real it felt and how it didn’t seem to truly relate to what happened in Greenland. It felt different and separate.

She clutched the scarf to her chest. She didn’t like it when her thoughts turned dark like this. She’d been doing so much better. She didn’t want to be haunted forever by the last time she saw him. By the distance in his eyes but the determination on his face to get Esme off her. She wasn’t even sure it registered to him that he was falling into the water, because the drugs seemed to have such a powerful effect on him. But that same blank look she saw in her dream, was on his face when he fell. But that could have been the drugs, who knows what was racing through his mind. Was he trying to call for her? Was he trying to look for her? Was he wondering where she was?

She shook her head to try to clear her head of those dark thoughts. He loved her. He knew she loved him. He was fighting for her. He knew she was fighting for him. He had just called her his hero. He knew. She had to keep reminding herself of that.

Chapter 7: Holding on to Him

Chapter Text

“Trina dear, you can go home, and I can lock up,” Trina looked across the desk to see Ava looking at her, concern etched on her face.

“That’s ok Ava, I can do it.” Trina replied.

“Trina, you’ve been here late a lot lately. And you’ve been here when we are closed, the security system alerts me. Are you sure it’s healthy for you to spend so much time alone here?”

“I like it here Ava. It’s peaceful.” Trina looked around at the latest exhibit. It had bothered her initially; these takes on couples embracing. But she found them comforting now.”

“Okay, I suppose you have been doing a lot better lately. You seem to be handling well be back at work more regularly,” Ava noted with a smile.

“It’s nice to have something productive to do. And you know how much I love this job. I’m very grateful for your patience with me.”

“Oh Honey, don’t even mention it. You will always have a place here.” Ava reached out and squeezed Trina’s hand. “I’m so proud of how you are handling everything. You’ve held yourself together with such a quiet dignity with everything that’s been going on with Laura and Heather.”

Trina sighed. “I don’t really have the energy to deal with all that. I just try to remember how much Spencer adored Laura despite being baffled by a lot of her choices. I’m trying so hard to pull myself out of this hole, I just can’t let myself get sucked back in by focusing on that. She’s been very complimentary of me and the impact she thought I had on Spencer’s life. We’ll just leave it at that. For my sanity.”

“Well, I think that’s probably best for you. I, however, intend to have a word or two. I hear your mother already has.”

Trina let out another heavy sigh. “Yeah, I heard.”

Ava frowned again. “Uh-oh.”

Trina shook her head. “Don’t ask.”

“Did something happen between you and your mom?”

“No.” Trina met her gaze so she could see she was being honest.

“Okay…” Ava hesitated. “I have to get going. But I’m just a phone call away Trina if you ever need to talk. I know this is hard for you. And Spencer and I, we went through it, for sure. But I saw the man he was becoming. And I saw how happy he made you. He was so good for you. The stalking and the bad blood between us, that I played a huge part in causing when he was just a boy, by the way, was long over when he…was taken from you. So, you can talk to me about him. You can work through whatever you need to work through. I’m here for you 100% always. I’ve had… a lot going on lately, but I can always make time for you Trina. Please remember that. Always.” She walked over to Trina’s side of the desk and pulled her out of her chair and into a hug.

Trina held onto Ava and fought back a tear. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Ava pulled back and wiped Trina’s hair out her face and cupped her cheek maternally. “You hang in there, kiddo. Love you. Don’t stay too late.”

Trina nodded, and followed Ava to the door so she could lock the doors behind her. She waved when Ava turned to wave. She really appreciated Ava’s words. It was remarkable after everything Spencer had pulled with Ava that she was still able to see him and even give him a bit of grace when so many others who purportedly loved him never truly saw him.

She dimmed the lights and found her tote, pulling out her usual items to make a pallet under her desk. It had been a few days since she read the last letter from Spencer to his mom or even explored what else was in the bag. Reading that her own mother personally interfered with her relationship with Spencer admittedly didn’t sit well with Trina, but that was more something that was just simmering on the surface.

Deeper down, she was haunted by remembering that dream, and the way that, after everything she witnessed in Paris, it felt more like a premonition of sorts than a nightmare about Greenland. And her mind had been reeling between dueling possibilities. What if she’d known it was a premonition and not a nightmare? Would they have known to avoid all boats and bodies of water forever. Would he still be here? What if he really was supposed to die in Greenland, and he was simply given the gift of borrowed time with her, and this was always his fate, one that he was never going to escape. Both scenarios are tragic no doubt. But in one, there was something she could have done if she had known. And in the other, perhaps she was just given a beautiful gift. Or maybe she just wanted to believe that because the alternative was that she had something so beautiful ripped away from her, and it was all just completely unfair.

Her Aunt Stella had been great about explaining that recovering from something like this was never going to be a straight line. She was feeling so much better before remembering that nightmare. Since then, she felt herself being pulled back into the darkness and listlessness again. She’d been avoiding all things Spencer these last couple of days. She hadn’t listened to his voicemail or watched his videos. She hadn’t looked at pictures beyond the wallpaper on her phone, and she hadn’t looked at the bag.

But, tonight, in the familiar comfort of the gallery, on her makeshift pallet, wrapped in his hoodie, she was ready to pick back up again. There were only two letters left for her to read. She pulled out the next chronological one. This one was the thickest letter yet, and the gallery was the perfect place to read it – a place she knew she wouldn’t be interrupted. She set up the lamp so she could see, opened the envelope, and settled in.

11/23/2023

Dearest Mother,

I’m guessing where you are, they don’t celebrate American-centric holidays, but you’re American, so Happy Thanksgiving. It’s peculiar because it’s not really a holiday I’ve celebrated all that enthusiastically much of my life, especially when I was away at boarding school. It’s this holiday where families gather, and what grander family is there than the Cassadines? But what a joke of a family we turned out to be. As for the Collins/Spencers, I suppose they make valiant attempts on occasion, but after being with Trina and her family for a very cozy and warm Thanksgiving with her family, I see what’s been lacking for us.

They are a family that truly loves and cares for one another, and they simply enjoy being around each other. This is absolutely not true about the Cassadines, and barely so about the other sides of my family, except maybe the Davises and the Webbers, but even with them I’m an outsider witnessing their happiness with admiration, but not quite feeling it for myself. This was a similar experience with the Ashford-Robinsons, but they did their best to make me feel at home. Dr. Robinson even plastered on a pleasant smile after the initial shock of seeing me there. I really did appreciate being included. The biggest differentiator of course, was Trina. I’m always happy when I’m with her, and I loved watching how happy she was to have us all together. She was missing her father Taggert, but everyone else was there. And getting to see such joy on her face, especially after having almost lost her – almost given her up even – made everything just feel right and good.

You are certainly wondering how I can say that right after admitting I had almost given her up. Well, that, dearest Mother, was all about this Cassadine duty, pride, and, I can’t lie, love. I love my little brother, more than I ever imagined I would given the circ*mstances of his birth. This all started out with me cleaning up my father’s mess. He abandoned Ace to be raised alone by my psycho ex-girlfriend. She doesn’t remember who she was. And so far, she’s done a great job – as a mother. But someone has to protect him from the possibility that old Esme can return at any minute. And my father wasn’t man enough to do it, because he’s not man enough to face the consequences of his actions and face possible jail time. I did it. Why can’t he? My grandmother left to traipse around Europe in search of him this summer, and that left me to help care for Ace with Esme. I was up with him at night. I helped feed him and care for him. I will admit, I became attached. And looking back, maybe that was unhealthy.

And Trina. Nothing about loving her is unhealthy. This summer should have been about us. But instead, it was about my duty to help raise Ace and her duty to be there for her family as they healed from trauma of her biological father being paralyzed from being shot. And, as I mentioned previously, her mother had an avid distaste for me, and I had my own issues with, at times, uncontrollable anger regarding my father, my uncle, and even Esme. So, we stole moments together when I wasn’t caring for Ace, and we kept a low profile so as not to upset her mother who was barely holding it together with what she was going through while also running active interference in effort to keep us apart, and oddly keep Esme joined at my hip by encouraging her to take parenting classes with me and to include me in this and that. "Dr. Robinson says we should do this or that..."

In a way, my relationship with Trina this summer was essentially stalled because of everything that was thrown at us. I’ve always known I was in love with Trina. You know that. But I didn’t tell her for months – circ*mstances seemed to hold me back. I wanted to tell her when everything was special, not when she was upset because I’d carelessly invited Esme to eat with us, or because Trina was upset about Curtis and telling me how much she needed me in her life – even though it was always on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to tell her when us being together was finally about us. And us being together, I don’t want to make this weird considering you are my mother, but I needed that to be special for her, because it would be her first time. And I guess I waited so long partly because of all that we were dealing with but also because I truly needed her to be sure this was what she wanted - that I was who she wanted. Because I know that my life is complicated and comes with a great deal of baggage. I don’t think I could ever handle being someone she regretted being with. I don’t think I could have handled being someone she couldn’t love in return.

So, because of all this madness, by the end of summer I had to whisk her away from Port Charles to have time alone with her that was about us and only us. When she agreed to go with me, I planned the whole weekend to make sure she had a weekend she would never forget where I could spoil her and show her how truly special she is to me. And it was indescribably perfect…she was so perfect. We got to be together without any interruptions and just be us. When I heard her say the words, that she loves me “so very much”, Mother, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life. And that first night, forgive me Mother, but that first night she was simply captivating and breathtaking. In every way. That whole weekend was magical.

But we couldn’t stay away forever, and Port Charles inevitably brings reality right back in your face. My grandmother returned from Europe with news that my father is alive. She hadn’t found him, but he is alive, just actively choosing to stay away. Looking back, I think hearing that, broke something in me, although I refused to acknowledge it at the time. I know I’ve spent a great deal of time expressing how much of a failure my father has been, but I know you know my heart. Deep down I’ve held out hope that he would choose to come back – that for once he would choose me, and now choose Ace. Hearing that he is alive, but not hurt and being kept away against his will, it brings back all the pain and resentment and anger, and I’ll be honest, I think I reacted by clinging to Ace even harder. I doubled down on this vow that he would never have to go through what I did, and I refused to see reason that the living situation I was in wasn’t sustainable, and that Trina, who had been a saint up until this point, was reaching the end of her rope.

So, when Esme announced she was moving, and my grandmother announced that she would cosign the lease and help her move, I felt betrayed. And when Trina’s response was to say “finally” when I told her Esme was moving out, I reacted poorly as I am wont to do when triggered. After all she has endured, she didn’t deserve the ultimatum I threw her way. But I was spiraling, and I just couldn’t stop the words from coming out of my mouth, and I couldn’t control my emotions. I felt like protecting Ace was my duty because I, of course, was going to be better than my father. My father chose the love of a woman over me, over and over again. Wouldn’t I be a hypocrite if I did the same? I was a helpless little boy who needed his father. Ace is a helpless baby. This is where my mind was.

I never wanted to give up Trina. I could never and will never love anyone the way I love her. It’s just not possible. But I thought I could do it for some warped perceived greater good that was wrapped in this need I felt to right a wrong, for a child that isn’t even mine. Even still I couldn’t just let her go without trying…something and finding some way to hold on to both. I thought I could find a way to keep threading that needle. But in the end, when trying to charm her with flowers and endless voicemails and texts, and sleeping outside her room didn’t work, and Trina threatened to remove herself from the equation all together, I felt like my whole chest just cracked open and I couldn’t breathe. Losing her seemed like an option I could live for some perceived selfless grand sacrifice in theory, but when faced with it in reality, there’s just no way I could go through with it. And, the truth is, it wasn’t selfless. I wanted to have everything, when having everything was never going to be an option.

I love Ace. And I will make sure he is protected and cared for. But he isn’t my son, and me choosing to be with Trina isn’t the same as what my father did to me. I had to let go of that need to right his wrongs. They aren't mine to right. All I can do is be there for Ace. And I’m not saying I like it or that separating from him is easy for me. But he does have a whole support system beyond me. And I will still have my eye on Esme, and if she reverts to her old self, I will ensure those charges are re-instated, and Ace will be with me, or with my grandmother and away from her immediately. In the meantime, while she’s still without those memories and she still prioritizes him, Ace deserves to have a chance to grow up with a mother. I didn’t get that chance.

And I deserve a chance at a life and a future with Trina. I see that now. I have so much I still have to work through in terms of how I feel about my father. And Trina deserves so much more than what she was getting. She endured it because she loves me and she understood what I was trying to do for Ace – while my grandmother was away. But her return, and our trip to New York changed things. And I should have changed with it, but instead I let the news of my father being alive pull me back into this dark place. And I regret ever letting Trina feel like she doesn’t mean absolutely everything to me. She does. She always has. I really have just been trying to do the right thing for the two people I love most in the world. What I had to realize was that I can’t have everything exactly how I want it. In a perfect world that would be Trina, Ace and me – together. But that’s not reality. I can make sure Ace is happy. And I can BE happy with Trina and make sure she is happy. And I intend to do just that.

So, Dr. Robinson surely was hoping that our few days apart after the idiotic ultimatum was more permanent – which is why she was shocked to see me today. I’m so fortunate it wasn’t. I have a lot of work to do to earn the trust and respect of Trina’s family so that maybe next Thanksgiving, the smiles will be a little less stilted (although Marshall’s seemed rather genuine. He’s a cool dude.). And I plan to do even more work to make and keep Trina happy. She is my priority now, and, if I have it my way, she will be my priority for the rest of my life.

A couple months ago Trina asked me what my plans were for the future, and really all I could see was her and Ace. She deserves a better answer than that. I’ve been so weighed down by the burden of this anger and this hurt surrounding my own family and being targeted the way I was, that I haven’t been able to think about a future beyond them. It’s time I start. I mean, sure, I have plenty of money to support Trina. I don’t exactly need a day job. But I do need a purpose. I’m not quite sure what that is yet, but I’m open to inspiration if you do that sort of thing up there.

My apologies for the wordiness of this particular correspondence. But my head is filled with so many thoughts. And while, as usual, Trina is a big subject, I hope you know that I think of you often. On days like today, I can’t help but wonder what it would have been like if you would have lived. In my mind I imagine I would have quaint Thanksgiving dinners with you. Given my father’s propensity for absenteeism, I always picture it as just the two of us, but still filled with warmth and love. I hope you are feeling some of it the way I felt today with Trina and even with her family.

Your Loving Son,

Spencer Cassadine

Trina took a deep breath and stood up. That was…a lot. She began to pace around. She still found it adorable that he’s writing his dead mother but still found it necessary to apologize for possibly oversharing about sex and about the length of the letter she’ll never actually read. She was touched by a lot of his perspective about her – that he found her breathtaking, and perfect, and that he knew he couldn’t possibly love anyone else the way he loved her. It was reassuring to hear his regrets about ever letting her feel like she wasn’t everything to him. He really was so self-reflective and sweet.

But this letter was also disturbing in some ways, she sat on a bench in front of one of her favorite paintings. He was still so hurt. And Trina felt bad that she was so caught up in her exasperation about the Esme situation that she didn’t quite pick up fully at the time that some of the Ace stuff was renewed triggering surrounding his dad. She was clued in somewhat. The day he told her that his grandmother found evidence that he was alive, it was clear to her that he was off, and that he wasn’t thinking clearly. But – again – she was so frustrated that he was so fixated on raising Ace with Esme, that she couldn’t see that he was reacting out of hurt from finding out that Nikolas chose to stay away – that he was circling the wagons so to speak. And some of that was on Spencer. He was always so focused on making things so perfect for her, he was almost unwilling to burden her with what he was really going through. It was almost as if he felt like he deserved to endure it all alone. And sometimes it was hard for her to keep up. And as well as she knew Spencer, she knew something was off about his reaction to the news about his father because he was so flippant when he told her, but she didn’t dive deeper because she was so triggered by his insistence on being a family unit with Esme.

She sighed. Her Spencer always found his way to the right path eventually. And he did. It took him a while to get it, but he got it. She didn’t really make the connection that one of the reasons for his ultimatum wasn’t just his love for Ace, but the fact that his father chose love for a woman over him so many times. And Trina was so sad for Spencer that he had to endure that. Nikolas should never have put anyone ahead of Spencer. And, however warped from pain his thinking was she hated that he ever felt obligated to sacrifice his own happiness for Ace.

She clutched the letter to her chest and stared at the painting on the wall in front of the bench. It was kind of a mix between an abstract and a caricature painting of a couple walking arm and arm under an umbrella - one of her favorites. That was the other reason she wanted to read this Thanksgiving letter in the gallery. They went for a long walk lake along the front that day and ended up briefly caught in the rain.

It was a beautiful day, but her mom had warned that rain was in the forecast, so Spencer grabbed an umbrella. Trina had changed from her mary jane heels to some rubber boots, and Spencer said he was fine risking getting mud on his white sneakers if it meant time alone with her, and he likely wanted to escape her mom for a bit.

“Oh my gosh that was actually pleasant, even with my mom there,” Trina gushed, looping her arm through Spencer’s as they began their walk. The weather was crisp, but she welcomed the lake air and the chance to walk off all that food.

“I thought she was going to throw a fork at me when I faked her out with that first piece of pie,” Spencer laughed.

“Now that was funny,” Trina giggled.

“I thought about giving it to her, but…” he winced. “You gotta go with the love of your life first, you know?”

Trina grinned and leaned her head on his arm. “I know you were only expecting to see Curtis and Marshall, so thank you for being so game and willing to hang with the whole family.”

Spencer shrugged. “I told you. I like your family. They really are good people. And it was cool to watch how warm you all are with each other and how much you enjoy each other. The food was delicious, and I got to be with you. I have no complaints.” He leaned over and kissed the crown of her head. “Besides, now is as good a time as any to start making headway with them if you and I are going to build a future….”

“Oh, is that what we’re doing?” Trina asked playfully.

“You disagree?” Spencer stopped and pulled her in front of him so he could look at her.

Trina could see the genuine concern in his eyes and couldn’t help but find it endearing. “Of course not, Spencer. It’s just…we hit a bumpy road there for a bit. And it seems a bit fast for you to just pivot so quickly and focus solely on us when you were so resistant to leaving Esme and Ace behind just a few days ago.”

Spencer nodded as if absorbing a small verbal blow and looked down. After taking a deep breath, he turned her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders so they could keep walking. He seemed to be organizing his thoughts. “First, to be clear, again…this has always been about Ace for me. But I will acknowledge...” his voice rose a bit to cut her off from her impending protest, and then he continued in a softer tone, “that I understand why it’s not just about Ace for you. I get it. This whole thing is just… messy. And secondly, this isn’t as sudden as you think. Not really. I wasn’t ever envisioning a future without you –“

Trina took a breath to interrupt again, but he cut through to continue.

“I know what I said in that stupid ultimatum.” He stopped again to face her and meet her gaze so she could see he meant every word. “I also know that when it came down to it, you were the one I couldn’t live without.”

They’d walked far enough to make it to a little dock and gazebo. Spencer grabbed her hand and led her there so she could sit for a minute. There was a storage bench with some blankets, and Trina pulled one out. He helped lift her onto the bar counter of the gazebo, wrapped her with the blanket and stood between her legs so they could huddle for warmth.

“Trina, a year ago, a future with you was just a dream – something I thought was the most unrealistic wish ever, especially after I behaved so poorly when you visited me in prison. You were so honest and open, and I just couldn’t…” he paused and took a breath. “I just wasn’t myself,” he finished. “So I thought a future with you was hopeless, but I knew what it could look like, because I’d dreamt of it.” He reached up and cupped her face, rubbing his thumb along her dimple. “And in those dreams, I never imagined that my father would have gotten Esme pregnant and run off to God knows where. Those were all curve balls that I didn’t expect. So, this pivot you’re talking about that you find so surprising, it’s just me going back to the original dream…just you and me.”

“And what about Ace?” Trina asked quietly, reaching up to hold the wrist of the hand that was cupping her face.

He looked down, inhaling like he was absorbing a sting to his chest. “I am going to miss being with him every day. I see now that I was trying so hard to shield him from something I can’t shield him from. My presence in his life, whether under the same roof or not, doesn’t negate the fact that our father did abandon him. He abandoned us. I guess I thought being able to keep him from feeling that pain would somehow make it all better for me.” He laughed sardonically while Trina took a turn rubbing his face with her hand comfortingly. “I’m not sure how that made sense in my head, but it did. And I love Ace more than I ever thought I could, so I’m not going to pretend this is easy for me. But, you are my future. And I am so ready to get back to that.” He leaned forward and pressed his head against hers. “I don’t know why you’re still here, but I’m so grateful that you are.”

“Where else would I be?” Trina asked. “Spencer, yes, you living with Esme was messy and it needed to change. I can appreciate you shrugging it off because she no longer means anything to you but there’s history there that can’t just be swept under the rug.” Spencer looked down and nodded. “And I wasn’t her only victim.”

“Yeah, Cam and Joss…”

“I’m talking about you Spencer…”

He looked up and met her gaze with shaking his head. “No. I was her mark. Her fool. There’s a difference,” he said bitterly.

“She deliberately set out to target you when you were at your most vulnerable. She preyed on you when you were young and alone. And you don’t get to blame yourself for that. You are not blameless in a lot of things, but that…that wasn’t your fault.” Trina was holding his face so he couldn’t look away. “And the man I love, he took accountability for the things he was responsible for. And he’s become this wonderful man who could love a baby conceived by his father and the woman who caused all this damage. A man who pushed all of that aside and tried to do what he thought was right. And this same man, well, he risked his life to save mine.” She smiled when he offered her a sweet knowing grin. “He has held my hand through countless family drama issues dating back to when we met – somehow managing to be so levelheaded about my family issues while being so boneheaded about his own.” They both chuckled. “And he manages to go out of his way almost every day to make me feel special and loved and cared for. He’s not perfect. No one is. But he is so perfect for me.”

“I disagree. Because you, Miss Robinson, are simply perfect in every way,” he leaned in close until his lips were a hair’s breadth away from hers and whispered. “So, I will always be the lucky one.”

Trina closed her eyes and closed the miniscule distance between their mouths, catching his lips with hers and throwing her arms around his neck. He slid his arms under the blanket and under her coat, pulling her towards him and to the edge of the bar she was perched on, squeezing her against him and moaning as his tongue swept into her mouth and met hers. She wasn’t sure how much time passed as they got lost in kissing and holding on to each other. She wasn’t even sure when the rain started, but at some point it got heavy enough that it began to splatter up onto where she was perched. Trina let out a squeal as the cold water splashed on her. She instinctively covered her hair. Spencer was a little slow to catch on, possibly because the blood wasn’t quite making it to his brain, but after a moment, he moved to grab the umbrella.

“We should probably head back inside,” he said, his voice loud so he could be heard over the rain. He was looking at a hesitant Trina who was looking at their current shelter and thinking about staying. He had this look on his face like he found her charming. “I don’t think this thing is going to provide enough shelter for you.” He took off his coat off. “Here put this on. It has a hood.” He put it on her and put the hood over her hair. The hood came so far down her face that she had to crank her neck just to look up at him – way more than usual. When she finally was able to see his face, he was grinning from ear to ear.

“What?” she asked incredulously.

“You look adorable,” he smiled. “Here,” he said, readying the umbrella, and offering his arm. “You can’t be too careful. I know how adamant you are about protect your hair from turning into very lovely curls.” He rolled his eyes.

“We’ve been over this Spencer.” She rolled her eyes as they began a brisk walk back towards the house, Trina perfectly protected from the rain, Spencer, a bit less so.

“Ah yes, it’s just soooooo much work to straighten it. Which one would think would lead one to just leave it curly, but far be it from me to intervene in a beautiful woman’s right to choose her own hair regiment.”

“Thank you!” Trina cranked her neck again to look up at him.

He chuckled. “Believe me, I’m learning to pick my battles Miss Robinson.”

“I’m so glad you’re learning,” she mused leaning against his arm.

Trina grinned. He really was so wonderful. By the time they made it back to the house the rather sexy gray button down he’d been wearing was completely drenched. Marshall loaned him a sweater while Trina dried it for him, and Trina remembered giggling frequently the rest of the evening at Spencer shifting around uncomfortably in a wool V-neck sweater. That really was a good day.

She made her way back to her little pallet and gently placed the letter back in the envelope. She laid her head down on the pallet and buried her nose into the side of the hoodie. She hadn’t slept well these last few nights, haunted by the images from that nightmare. She was happy to have some new images in her head that she hoped she could fall asleep to. She decided to see what else was in the bag. She knew there were still a few items she hadn’t looked at, partly because she had an idea what they were already. There were some books in there. She guessed they were books she’d given him. She reached in and grabbed one of them, removing the tissue paper wrapped around it. She smiled and laid down. This one was a book about the architecture of the Guggenheim Museum that she’d bought him in New York. She didn’t open it. She knew what was in it.

She thought back to his letter. New York was magical. And it truly was a weekend she would never forget. She pulled out her phone and scrolled to her timeline of photos from late September. Their first night there they went to the theater, had a rooftop dinner and the most amazing first time a girl could ever have. Saturday was a lazy day where they spent some quality time in bed, followed by time walking around Central Park, and Soho, and they watched the Sunset from the rooftop of the hotel. They ate dinner in the hotel and shared a bath and shower and…. some more quality time together in the suite. Sunday, she had a stylist come and fix her hair in the morning while getting a manicure and pedicure. Then they got an eventful couple’s massage, and by the afternoon they were off to explore MOMA and Guggenheim, followed by dinner and exploration at Hudson Yards and champagne at the Edge – reserved just for them of course. And Monday, he arranged for a private tour of the Met in the morning, and they made it back to hotel for more quality time and lunch in bed before they had to leave.

There was one video of them on the sky deck of the Edge when they thought the hostess was taking a picture of them but she was taking video while they were getting situated. She loved that one. It was so simple, but she caught on camera the way he seemed to always need to touch her. He was rubbing her back and her arm. He was holding her hand and bringing her fingers to his lips all while she deliberated about how she wanted to pose. It was really the sweetest thing. She closed her eyes thinking about that day. She wanted to close her eyes intentionally thinking about something lovely.

“I feel like I’ve eaten more here in three days than I do in a month in Port Charles,” Trina exclaimed tapping her belly as she approached the bed. She’d just washed up and changed into her lace lavender negligee and matching silk robe. They’d spent a good portion of the day exploring museums, looking at art and capped it off by taking in the New York skyline while sipping champagne at the Edge in Hudson Yards.

Spencer was sitting on the bed writing in a book shirtless and just under the covers. He looked up as she approached, his eyes taking her in. “Well, we’ve also walked far more than we would have in Port Charles and had a few more…” he paused to lick his lips and look her up and down “activities while we were here. So having a bigger appetite is… understandable.” He raised an eyebrow and co*cked a half grin.

Trina met his grin with one of her own, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him. “What are you writing?” she asked, nodding towards the book in his hand. He shrugged. “Something.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Is that my Toulouse-Lautrec Exhibit book you got me from MOMA?”

He grinned as he snapped the book closed on her fingers as she tried to peek. “It is. But you don’t get to see what I wrote until you get back to Port Charles.” He blinked and stared at her, a smirk plastered on his face, chewing on his bottom lip.

She narrowed her eyes again, challenging him, and when he didn’t relent, she got up in a huff.

“Wait, where are you going?” he asked, almost whining.

She didn’t answer, she just rummaged through the shopping bags and pulled out the book she bought him on the Guggenheim architecture and grabbed the pen she bought Joss, held it up and clicked it three times dramatically for emphasis, opened the book and sat down at the table.

He chuckled. “What are you doing?”

“I’m writing my own inscription. I can be gifted with my words too. And YOU can’t read this until you get home.” Trina had her nose in the air and eyes low. But in truth, she had no idea what to say. He was the one who was gifted at this. She was just doing this because he wouldn’t let her see what he was writing.

“I see,” he replied grinning at her, and then turning back to his writing. She scrunched her nose and tried to think hard of something especially poetic to say to him about this weekend.

Minutes later she was still stumped, mostly because she just knew his was going to be something that would make her heart flutter. She heard him clear his throat.

“Are you still working on that Miss Robinson?” he asked.

“Hold your horses. You can’t rush art,” she retorted.

“Can’t you write it over here?” he asked, pouting a little, patting the spot on the bed beside him.

“Why so you can peek?”

“You haven’t written a single word,” he chortled.

“Spencer, you really need to learn some patience,” she teased.

“We’ve already established I’m not a very patient man,” he replied, his tone low and sexy, eliciting a slight shiver from Trina. She knew what he was getting impatient about.

“You’ll be fine. You’ve had enough outbursts for the day, don’t you think?” Trina eyed him playfully.

Spencer sucked his teeth. “This,” he pointed between them, “is not an outburst, I’m simply requesting the gift of your presence… over here.” He leaned back and crossed his arm “And I have no knowledge of any other so-called outbursts occurring today.”

Trina crossed her arms to mirror him. “Spencer! You practically accosted the poor masseuse relentlessly this morning.”

“I’m sorry did you just say poor masseuse? You didn’t think the guy was a little too enthusiastic about massaging the back of your ‘upper thighs’ Trina?” he raised his hand in air quotes, and he continued with irritation evident on his face, “And there was no need to make the sounds he was making.”

Trina giggled. “Your masseuse was a little enthusiastic too. I didn’t mind.” She clutched her chest in faux innocence.

“Trina, she was 60! Not some young underwear model working a day job.” he threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Yeah, but she was enjoying herself with all that body you are working with” Trina waved her arm demonstrably and giggled again when he shot her a glare.

“You’re laughing but she slipped me her number,” Spencer frowned, horror in his eyes.

Trina let out a hearty laugh. “So you’re telling my if YOUR masseuse had been some young hot model you would have been just as horrified if she slipped you her number?”

He smiled at her. “Absolutely.” He stared at her with amusem*nt in his eyes but didn’t flinch. “And that wasn’t an unwarranted outburst, I was defending your honor.”

Trina chuckled and stood up walking towards him. “Okay, the sounds were weird, but the massage was pretty standard, Spencer.”

“Well, I didn’t like it,” he said uncrossing his arms as she approached him and flipping the covers out so she could get in, revealing his cute striped boxers.

“Clearly,” she said as she climbed onto the bed, straddling his lap as chastely as she could dressed in a negligee. Her rear was situated around mid thigh on him, her core, just out of reach of his, for… reasons. He chewed his bottom lip as he gazed at her. “So….we’re just not going to admit that we went a little overboard, huh?” she asked.

He raised an eyebrow and shoulders simultaneously “I mean, I tipped the guy, what more do you want from me?”

Trina laughed and shook her head. “You are hilarious!”

“I’m so glad you find me so entertaining.” He ran his thumbs along her legs and looked at her. “You know, you never wrote anything in that book.” He pointed his chin towards the table, never taking his eyes off her.

“I will…” Trina replied, “But first,” she reached out and let a finger lazily drag down his bare abdomen and watched him react with a slight hitch in his breath. “I thought maybe we should take stock of things.”

He was leaning his head against the headboard, and he tilted it slightly to regard her, a curious grin spreading across his face. He inhaled. “Take stock of things…. what does that mean?”

“Well, this was our first weekend away together, I think we should… evaluate things” She smiled as she noticed him shifting slightly, his arms moving to tug her legs, pulling her up his thighs.

“Well, the weekend isn’t over. I have something big planned for tomorrow morning. And… we won’t be leaving here until late in the afternoon, so we still have a good amount of time.” His eyes were hooded as he began slipping his fingers underneath the silk of the negligee rubbing her thighs.

“All the more reason to take stock now.” Trina’s eyes were filled with a mischievous glint as she drew circles with her finger on his abdomen.

He tugged her further still up his thigh. “I guess I need you explain what you mean by take stock,” he said softly as he pulled off the light robe she was wearing and traced his hands down her shoulders.

Trina shivered a bit from his touch. “Well, I am new to this… experience,” she paused as she felt him tug her even higher on his lap so that she was now positioned over his noticeably stiff member. She let out an audible moan.

“Yes,” he replied as he placed a soft kiss on her neck. “I know,” he whispered.

“I, mmhmm” she moaned again when he nibbled on her ear. “I want to know what you like,” she whispered.

He stopped kissing her and pulled back to look at her. “I don’t understand.”

“I want to make you happy,” she shrugged suddenly very self-conscious.

He let out a breath and wrapped his arms around her waist pressing her down against him. “One would think you having been a party to exactly how my body responds to yours, would tell you all you need to know about what I like, Miss Robinson.” His voice was low and husky, and his eyes were dark and hooded.

She moaned as he pulled and then pushed her hips so she could feel the length of him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead against his. Her breathing was jagged from her own desire. “What if,” she took a deep breath to steady herself, “what if I tried something new and I… wasn’t good at it.”

Spencer diverted his attention from the strap of her nightgown and paused to look at her with a curious look on his face. “Well, first,” he began as his hands roamed along her arms and shoulders, “I’m not convinced there’s anything you aren’t good at. But Trina, we don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with. This should feel natural, and believe me,” he inhaled sharply, “I have no complaints.”

Trina scrunched her face and tilted her head from side to side as if taking in his point but also disagreeing. “Well, it’s not exactly that I’m uncomfortable,” she said, chewing on her lip and looking at him a bit sheepishly.

He grinned at her, confused but with amusem*nt shining in his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Trina protested.

“Like what?” he asked, his eyes unchanged.

“Like I’m adorable. I’m trying to be sexy right now.”

Spencer smirked, pulling her hips down flush against him once more, his arousal unaffected. “Baby two things can be true at the same time. I'm not following anything you are saying right now, but you ARE adorable. And, very very sexy." He leaned forward to capture her lips with his. He pulled down one strap of her negligee and cupped her breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb, tearing his mouth from hers and kissing her neck. She squeezed herself against him reveling in the feel of his hands and lips on her and his arousal poking against her.

"Can I ask you a question?" Trina wheezed out between gasps for air as he dragged his tongue along her collarbone.

"Hm?" he moaned in between kisses.

“Do you like the way I taste?” she whispered into his ear. ‘

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, undeterred however in his mission to rid her of her nightgown. He cupped her breast and leaned down to take her nipple into his mouth greedily. Lost in the sensation, Trina held onto him and she felt him beginning to nudge her over, possibly with the intent to show her how much he liked tasting her, but that wasn’t quite what she had in mind. Not yet. It took some strength, but Trina lightly shoved him back, so that his head was once again resting against the headboard. Disappointment and confusion simultaneously flashed across his love drunk face.

She smiled at him and pushed herself up from him, crawling down his legs and taking his boxers with her, freeing his swollen shaft. She heard him stutter her name when she took him in hand and when she looked up at him, he was cursing and squeezing his eyes shut. She smiled to herself, and she wondered if this was the intoxicating feeling he got when she was literal putty in his hands… and mouth. She fisted him, using the slickness that had already begun to coat him, and when his eyes found hers, she found the boldness to drag her tongue along the bottom of his shaft and take him into her mouth as far as she could. He let out the most jagged moan.

Trina took her time tasting, licking, and rubbing him and taking in as much of him as she could. He tasted salty with a hint of sweetness. His body was responding; his hips jerking, one hand tightly held the sheets next to her while the other was tangled in her hair gently guiding her movements. He was alternating between cursing and stuttering her name until he stilled and suddenly pulled himself from her grasp and pulled her back up on top of him.

Spencer’s eyes were glazed over and he kissed her passionately before flipping them so that she was flat on her back. When he tore his mouth away, she saw a glint in his eye, and she knew he intended to return the favor. Before long it was Trina who was stuttering his name while his mouth was wrapped around her cl*t and his fingers were inside her coaxing her to the point of madness. Her hands were tangled in his hair as she guided him in a decidedly less gentle manner than he had done her earlier. She threw her head back when the convulsive waves coiling in her core began to shoot out throughout her body.

She strained to catch her breath as she came back down, but her breath hitched again as Spencer eased his way inside her. She could tell he affected as she was, his own breath hitching as he buried his face in the pillow at the crook of her neck cursing quietly. “You feel so good, Trina.”

Trina wrapped her arms around him, pulling him even closer and deeper, and when he pushed up to look at her, she rubbed his face with her hands. “So…this would be one of those things you like.”

He grinned. “I love everything about being with you Trina,” he whispered as he began to move inside her and touching that spot that drove her crazy, and when she opened her mouth to cry out, he covered her with a kiss, swirling his tongue with hers and matching the movement of his hips. “Everything,” he whispered as he buried his face once again in the crook of her neck and slipped his hands underneath her angling her hips and in a way that seemed to give him even easier access to that same spot, which quickly pulled Trina right back over the edge.

“Spencer please,” she cried out, and he responded by repeating his movements until she melted beneath him.

Two more org*sms – for Trina - and about 3 more positions later, they both lay spent in each other’s arms eyelids heavy and breathing shallow. Interestingly, through all their ministrations, the book he’d gotten her was still perched not far from him, notched between the headboard and a pillow. Once in control of her breathing, Trina propped her head on her hand and looked down at Spencer.

“Are you really going to make me wait until I get back home to read what you wrote in there?”

Spencer chuckled. “That’s really what’s on your mind right now? We just had incredible sex and you want to know what I wrote in a book?”

Trina shrugged. “Well, yeah. You always write the sweetest things.”

“Trina, I just literally physically showed you how much I love you, in several different ways” Spencer chuckled again.

“And it was all very well and duly noted,” Trina grinned sexily, placing a finger between her teeth.

He bit his lip. “Fine,” he reached over and grabbed the book. “Here.” He handed it to her and rolled over her, kissing her as he moved across her body to get up from the bed. “I’m going to go grab us something to wash up with. You nerd.”

Trina squealed in excitement as she opened the book and read the inscription inside. She clutched her hand to her heart as a tear welled up in her eye as she read it and looked up to see a curious Spencer watching her from the bathroom door. Seemingly satisfied by her reaction, a knowing grin grew on his face and he blinked before looking down and turning to go into the bathroom to continue his mission of getting them something to wash up with.

“Trina! Trina honey wake up!”

Trina was stunned awake by her frantic sounding mother. She covered her face with her hand as she tried to grasp where she was. She wasn’t in New York. Her heart sank. That was real, and that bubble she was in was no longer her reality.

“Trina, baby, what are you still doing here? Why are you sleeping here?”

“I didn’t plan to. I just forgot to set an alarm and I fell asleep.”

“Trina, honey, this isn’t healthy.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Mom,” she said dismissively, stuffing all her things in her bag.

“Trina! Do you have any idea how worried we all were? Thank God Ava had an idea and gave us the code to get in here.”

“Mom,” she glanced at her watch and saw it was just past 1am. “I am genuinely so sorry to have worried you. That was not my intent. But I don’t want to have this discussion right now. I’m asking that you respect that.”

Portia seemed to relent, at least for now, and Trina finished gathering her things. She followed her mom home in her own car and excused herself after assuring everyone she was just fine. She could hear them talking about her downstairs, but she didn’t care.

Once inside her room, she scanned her shelf for that book from Spencer. It was on theme for the Moulin Rouge Theater trip to New York. There was an Exhibition book for sale at the MOMA that he snatched up for her: The Paris of Toulouse-Lautrec: Prints and Posters from The Museum of Modern Art. She loved it. She was hoping it was here and not in the dorm. It wasn’t on the shelf, so she looked, somewhat frantically, through a couple of the boxes she had yet to unpack until she let out a sigh of relief at seeing it.She still had his architecture book tucked under her arm. She curled into the corner of her bed, and opened his book first, blushing at her attempt to match his usual poetic words. She wrote her inscription on the plane ride home using her arms to keep his peering eyes from seeing.

My Sweet Prince,

The Guggenheim is a lot like you on the surface: beautiful, modern, sleek, unique, and absolutely one of a kind. There is no one like you. The museum can be perceived as cold and impersonal – not unlike how you may come across to others. But, in reality, you are this wonderful, warm, caring human being. You made this trip so special for me, and I will remember it always, just as I will love you always.

Love,

Trina

She smiled and smirked. Not bad. But then she remembered his words. She took a deep breath and opened her book, running her thumb over his writing:

My Love,

Toulouse-Lautrec says, "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return." I’m inclined to agree. And you have been my greatest teacher, and from you, I will always be eager to learn. But I’ll take it even further and say that being loved by you has been the greatest gift I could have ever received. There is no gift I could ever give you that could match this feeling, but I plan to die trying.

Loving you always,

S

Chapter 8: Holding on to Him: My Bench

Chapter Text

“Hi.”

Trina looked up from her phone to see Spencer standing in front of her with a sweet half grin on his face. He was bundled up in the same peacoat he wore when he’d shown up on her doorstep on Christmas Eve a few days ago and they’d hatched this plan to try to lure Esme out of hiding by pretending to date. She had texted him to meet her in the park. It was late in the day and the sun was getting low in the sky behind him. She was the one who invited him, but somehow, she found herself caught off guard by his presence. She clutched her stomach. “Hi,” she replied, staring back at him.

“Am I too early?” he asked with a sheepish smile, nodding towards her phone. “You look a little busy.”

She looked at her phone, he was about 10 minutes early but that wasn’t why she was ostensibly tongue tied. What had she gotten herself into? She shook her head to cover her nerves and to let him know his early arrival was fine. “No, actually this is why I texted you,” she raised her phone in his direction. She slid her things over to make room for him to sit next to her on the bench.

“You wanted to meet outside in the cold to talk about your phone?” Spencer asked with a smile.

“Well, I wanted to meet outside so we could be seen together. In public.” She paused as she watched him nod in recognition, a smile still evident on his face and reaching his eyes. “And it’s not that cold. I like it here.”

He nodded again. “Yeah,” he said as he looked around. “I know you like to spend a lot of time here in the summer,” he noted.

“It’s lovely in the winter too,” she added, taking a moment to look around herself.

“Yeah,” she heard him reply, but when she looked at him, she caught him looking at her. Trina really wished she could she wasn’t affected, but every part of her seemed to react to him. It was something she had fought so hard against for so long, but she was beginning to wonder why. Rory’s death taught her that life was so short. Spencer scared her. But he also thrilled her and made her feel alive. And wasn’t that the point of living? But he had also hurt her so deeply – more than she thought anyone could. It was quite possible she had bitten off far more than she could chew with this fake dating scheme, but she was willing to do this to finally end this hook killing horror. And maybe, she could at least admit to herself, fake dating Spencer could give her cover to explore her real feelings about him and see if she could trust them and trust him with them.

She blinked for a moment and looked back down at her phone. “And as for my phone, I was trying to find a New Year’s event for us to go to.” She resumed scrolling through the webpage she had been scrolling through when he arrived.

“Us?” he asked, crossing his arms in front of himself and leaning over towards her so he could see her screen.

“Well, yeah. That’s the point of this whole thing. We need to be seen together, right? What better way to really be seen than to go out on New Year’s Eve and post about it?”

“That’s a great idea,” Spencer smiled and nodded, and then grimaced. “I have plans actually.”

“Oh,” Trina replied. She wondered if she sounded as disappointed as she somehow seemed to feel. “Hot date?” she asked, mumbling.

A curious look flashed across his face before he answered. “It’s Britt Westbourne’s birthday, and she’s having a big celebration on the Haunted Star.”

Trina’s eyes widened in recognition. “Oh! You’re favorite almost stepmother.”

Spencer smiled. “The one and only.”

“You definitely can’t miss that,” Trina noted. “I know much you love her.”

Spencer turned a bit on the bench to face Trina. “You know, Britt would love to meet you.”

“Me? She knows who I am?” Trina looked confused.

“Of course she does,” he said quietly, looking down. He took a breath.

Trina tried to ignore the butterflies churning from the genuine sweetness on his face when he said ‘of course’.

Spencer looked up at her again. “This could work out perfectly. Maxie Jones will be there. Brad Cooper. My Uncle Sonny and Nina Reeves…” Spencer said, ticking the names off on his fingers.

“You’re right.” Trina gasped excitedly, reaching out to grab his hand. “This will work perfectly.”

Spencer looked at their hands and back up at her. “So… it’s date?”

Trina was not comfortable with how much her heart leapt at that word and pulled her hand back. “It’s a fake date,” she corrected. She wasn’t sure she was very convincing given the glint in his eye.

“Right. Fake.” He replied, pursing his lips, and turning his attention back to the various sights and sounds of the park around them. He leaned his head sideways towards her, eyes still forward and focused on something off in the distance. “So…um…logistically. It’s probably wise if we meet there, right? Curtis and Marshall were a bit…abrasive yesterday after Rory’s memorial.”

Trina guffawed. “That’s an understatement. And yes, that’s probably wise.” She shivered a bit from the cold and hugged herself. The sun was dipping further down, and a deeper chill was beginning to settle in.

Spencer seemed to instinctively shift closer. “So, how are you. After the memorial?”

Trina shrugged. “None of this really seems real sometimes. Thank you for being there. I know you got… a lot of looks.”

Spencer shook his head. “I deserved a lot of those. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You know you haven’t really said much. About him.” His eyes were again focused forward on the sky. Trina looked at him curiously and he turned his head to meet her gaze. His eyes were sincere. “You must miss him.”

Trina looked down. “I do. I hate that he’s gone. I hate that he went after the hook because of me.”

“Trina. He clearly loved you.” Spencer reached out and touched her leg. “And when you love someone, you’d pretty much do anything for them.” He held her gaze for a moment before she blinked and looked down.

“I should have been honest about my feelings, and maybe he wouldn’t have been so eager to go after her…”

“Your feelings?” Spencer asked quietly.

“I really cared about Rory,” she said, playing with her hands and staring at them. “He was so sweet, and genuine, and he made me feel very special…” she paused as she felt Spencer pull his hand away from her leg. She looked over at him and he was watching her.

“You deserved that,” he whispered. He was hunched forward rubbing his mouth with his knuckles and his thumb, resting his elbow on his thigh. He almost looked anxious listening to her. And she wasn’t sure if he was just feeling sympathy for her or if there was something more to it. There was something unreadable in his eyes.

She stood up and hugged herself with her arms, avoiding his gaze and inhaled. “But I wasn’t in love with him. Even when he was dying…I couldn’t say it back.” She felt him stand next to her and his hand begin to rub up and down her back, but he didn’t say anything. “In a way I’m relieved his family didn’t come to the memorial, because I don’t know how I could have faced them.” Her voice broke at the end, and she felt his arm envelop her, turn her, and pull her into his chest.

She hadn’t cried a whole lot about Rory since he died. She didn’t think she deserved to. But she did that night, in Spencer’s arms. And he didn’t say anything to try to make it better. He just held her, and she just quietly let the tears she had held back flow.

When the tears stopped, she took a deep breath and, suddenly, the realization hit her that Spencer was holding her and had been for God knows how long. He must have sensed her unease, because he cleared his throat, gently let go of her, taking a step back. He pulled his hands behind his back. His face was even and almost unreadable except for his eyes. They were warm, earnest, and concerned.

“Sorry,” she muttered, wiping her face.

“Please don’t be,” he replied quietly, shaking his head.

There was a look in his eye that made Trina shiver.

“Do you want to go inside somewhere?” Spencer asked.

“No. I’m still fine for now. I like watching the sky here when the sun is setting.” She sat back down.

“Okay.” He sat down next to her.

“Can we just pretend that didn’t just happen?” She pleaded, staring at the sky but inching closer to him to absorb his warmth.

“Which part?” He nudged her with the crook of his arm, silently offering it for her to loop her arm through and lean against him for more warmth.

“All of it." she sighed, taking his offer and leaning her head against his arm. "I just admitted that I wasn’t in love with him. I don’t really deserve to cry over his death.”

“Trina. You just said he was someone who made you feel special. You cared about him. You get to be sad that he’s gone. You didn’t have to be in love with him to care about him or to want him to be alive. I mean I wasn’t his biggest fan, but I certainly didn’t want the guy dead.” Trina laughed into his arm and nudged him.

“Can we pretend this didn’t happen too” she said, wiping away another tear.

She felt Spencer press his face against the top of her head as she leaned against him. “I don’t know, I think this whole scene works in our favor. If you never want me to bring this up again between us I won’t. But I see nothing wrong with you grieving the loss of someone you cared for and who loved you, Trina.”

Trina sniffed and inhaled to steady herself. “And how exactly does this work in our favor?”

“Well, we have had plenty of witnesses see you lean on me for comfort. And that’s the story we’re selling, right -you turning to me for comfort after Rory’s death?” He met her gaze as she lifted her head to regard him.

“So…this is you just playing your part?” Trina asked, her eyes searching.

“Is that what you want to believe?” Spencer asked quietly, his eyes searching hers.

Trina looked away. “I guess what matters right now is what everyone else believes, especially Esme.”

“Yeah,” he nodded as he looked down. “For now.”

“Can we sit here for a little while longer?” Trina asked.

“Of course,” he replied tenderly. “I’ll go grab us some hot chocolate,” Spencer popped up from his seat and backed away waiting for her nod of approval before turning to head towards a nearby vendor stand. Trina sighed. She tried to remove the last ten to fifteen minutes - or was it more like thirty - from her memory and focus on this party. Going to this party on the Haunted Star will be ideal to have them show up on social media and have the right people gossiping about them. And he was right when he said this fake dating thing could be dangerous. They were playing with fire a bit by trying to lure out the hook, but she was intent on ending this thing and taking back control of her life.

She turned to watch him standing in line at the coffee cart. This was going to be a good start at getting her life back, she was sure of it. But a night, on the town, dressed to the nines, with that particular handsome man on her arm was going to be dangerous for other reasons. And judging from the somersaults her stomach was doing, she was in trouble.

She smiled as he made his way back towards her with large cups in hand. “You don’t have to indulge my insanity, you know. Sitting in the park in the dead of winter.”

He grinned and handed her a cup, sitting back down next to her. “I’m sure any guy who’s trying to get the girl would indulge said insanity. And…since we’re, you know, playing a part and all…” He shrugged his shoulders and his eyes shone with a glint of amusem*nt and something else.

“Right,” Trina gave a brisk nod and turned her attention the sky in front of her. She took a sip of her hot chocolate and closed her eyes to savor the flavor. “Mmm. This is so good.”

“Mmmhmmm…” Spencer replied. She could hear a smile in his voice.

Trina smiled as she sat on that same park bench taking in the view. She had no clue at the time that Spencer had less than pure motives when he was supplying her with hot chocolate and other chocolate treats. He was so terrible. And so wonderful at the same time. He could have taken advantage of her vulnerability that night. He could have latched on to her admitting that she was never in love with Rory, but he didn’t. Surely, he sensed the reason why she wasn’t able to love Rory in return. But for a man who always said he wasn’t a patient man, he set his own feelings aside and he was just… there for her that evening. He was a literal shoulder – or solid chest – for her to cry on. No questions asked.

She took a deep breath and looked at her watch. Laura had called her and asked if she could meet her somewhere in the park. Trina immediately thought of this place, her favorite bench. She came a little early so she could just sit. It was another beautiful spring day.

”Tweeeeeeena” Ace called her name pulled her attention, when she looked towards his voice she saw him bury his face in his grandmother’s neck. Seeing Ace was a nice surprise. Spencer’s cousin Aidan was also with them carrying a blanket and a bag.

“Trina, I’m so sorry we are late. This one makes things a bit unpredictable timing wise.” Laura reached out with her spare hand to squeeze Trina’s when she stood to greet them.

“It’s fine. Ace! Hi,” she said, rubbing his back. “Aidan, it feels like forever since I’ve seen you! How are you?”

“Good thanks,” he replied.

“Aidan here has agreed to watch Ace for a bit during a short window while I have some business to attend to and his mom is finishing up her shift and then she’ll come get him.” Laura explained as she set Ace down to explore.

Trina nodded. Ace reached out and grabbed her hand as if he wanted to take her somewhere. “Oh. Okay.” She laughed, letting him pull her. They walked a few steps, and he grabbed a stuffed frog out of the bag Aidan had set down. He gave it a hug and then gave it to her.

Trina smiled. “What a cute frog,” she said squatting down to his level and gave it a hug. He really did have a lot of Spencer’s mannerisms and expressions, and apparently, he liked giving gifts too.

“Hi,” he said before toddling off in the other direction towards his waiting cousin and the other toys. Trina looked up at a smiling Laura.

“It’s so crazy to me how different he is every time I see him.”

Laura nodded. “They grow up so fast.” She patted on the bench next to her, silently requesting that Trina have a seat. “Have you been able to look through bag I gave you.”

“I have. I’m down to the last letter and the box you said to open last.” Trina took a seat next to her.

“I hope it’s been more helpful than hurtful,” Laura winced.

Trina looked down and nodded. “It has. I’m grateful. Is that why you wanted to see me?”

“Not exactly,” Laura seemed to be bracing herself for some sort of reaction from Trina and Trina was sensing it wasn’t something she wanted to hear.

“If this is about Heather Webber…I’ve heard my mom talking and…” Trina shook her head, “I really don’t think this is a discussion we should have.”

“I understand. Your mother made herself very clear. And I know the damage that Heather did to people very close to you,”

“With all due respect Heather, Ryan and Esme did damage to someone especially close to you as well. And Spencer always told me how much of a forgiving heart you have, but…” Trina stopped herself and put her hands up. “I don’t think it’s wise for us to have this conversation.”

Laura raised her hands. “I understand. Truly. I didn’t ask you here to talk about Heather.”

Trina exhaled. “Okay.” She looked at Laura expectantly.

“When Spencer arranged to have an apartment in Paris, in typical Spencer fashion, he paid for the 6 months outright. The owners have reached out. They feel bad about keeping the money without anyone receiving the benefit of getting to stay there. I know that you have deferred the Sorbonne, and you are unsure if you will return. And I know you’ve said that you don’t ever want to return to Paris, but I thought I would let you know that the apartment is paid for through July. And should you decide you want to go back there, maybe for some closure – honey we really rushed out of there – all you have to do is let me know, and I will make sure they have the apartment available for you.”

Trina looked at Laura warily, shaking her head.

“You have absolutely no obligation here. But don’t turn me down outright. Think about it. I know that you are likely questioning so many of my decisions and you have every right to. And I know I failed my grandson in a few ways. Reading some of the letters he wrote to Courtney, it was heartbreaking to see how much he was enduring that I just didn’t quite see.” She reached out to cup Trina’s chin. “But you did.”

Trina shook her head. “Not all of it.” She squeezed the stuffed frog Ace had given her to her chest.

“Well, that’s because Spencer was pretty good at hiding his pain. Especially from those he loved the most. Anyway – you may doubt a lot of things about me, but please don’t doubt that I truly want to see you healed and living again. Because from everything I know about how much my Spencer loved you, I know that he would want that for you more than anything. And if Paris is a way for you to get closure, and I can help, let me know. If it’s not, that’s fine too.”

Trina nodded silently.

“I have to get going. Please think about it.” Laura reached out and squeezed Trina’s hand before getting up to leave.

“Would you mind if I hung out with Ace and Aidan for a bit?” Trina asked as Laura gathered her things.

“Not at all. I think Ace has a bit of a crush on you. Those Cassadine boys!” Laura smiled.

Trina chuckled and got up to go sit on the blanket where Aidan had Ace occupied with a heap of toys. “Mind if I join you?”

“Tweeeeena. Tweeena.” Ace said without stopping his efforts to stack all the blocks he had. “Hi.”

“You’re so lucky he knows your name. He just calls me Hey,” Aidan laughed.

About an hour later Ace had fully worn out both Aidan and Trina. They’d fed him, chased him, Aidan had wrestled him, Trina had comforted him – he was completely trying to play her like someone else she knew – and they were all spent. Mrs. Baldwin came to pick up Aidan and Ace and take them all home.

“I see my son had some reinforcements. Thank you.”

“Mom, I can handle Ace!” Aidan protested.

“I know you can,” Elizabeth turned towards Trina and gave her a wink. She picked up Ace like a pro. “Aidan, why don’t you pack up his things and take them to the car. I’ll be there in a sec, okay?”

“Yes ma’am. Bye Trina.”

“Take care Aidan.” Trina smiled warmly.

Elizabeth bounded Ace to her other hip. “My goodness he’s getting big. Can we sit for a quick second?”

“Sure,” Trina replied.

“How are you?”

“I’m… hanging in there.”

Elizabeth scrunched her nose. “Yeah, that’s the canned line we say, isn’t it?” She paused for a moment and looked at Trina, almost as if she was inspecting her. “You know your mom is worried,” Trina stiffened a bit in her seat, “and I told her to give you some space. Losing your first love, especially one that you have such a deep… connection with…it’s just so tough. And people can be very… well… they don’t quite get it, you know?”

Trina looked at her curiously. “Did you lose your first love?” Trina knew she had lost her husband, Cam’s stepdad, but she wasn’t sure about her first love.

“Well…yes and no.” She stopped and frowned a little. “On second thought this may not be the best story to tell you.”

“I don’t understand.” Trina shook her head in confusion.

“Well, you know my ex-husband, Spener’s uncle Lucky right?”

“Cam talks about him a little bit.”

“Yeah, well, he was my first love. And it was…” she inhaled. “Magical. And we were young, and we said vows.” She paused and smiled whimsically. “We had something really really special.”

Trina smiled.

“We were younger than you and Spencer,” Elizabeth noted. “But then there was this fire, and… he just… died.”

“Wait,” Trina was confused.

“So, this is why this probably isn’t the best story, but stay with me on this part ok,” Elizabeth bounced a fussy Ace on her lap.

“Okay,” Trina agreed, still confused but open minded. Ace reached out for Trina, and she obliged, taking him into her lap and rocking him.

“It was so hard to move on. And people just didn’t seem to get it. It’s like they felt like I would find comfort in them telling me that I would… find love again.” Elizabeth chuckled. “I didn’t want to find love again. I wanted Lucky. I wanted what we had again. And it was taken from me so… suddenly.”

A tear dropped from Trina’s eye as she nodded, leaning down to kiss a groggy Ace on the top of his head.

“So, I imagine,” Elizabeth continued, “it’s not easy to hear people wanting to rush you to get past Spencer because they act like he’s just some kid you loved once and not…. Not your soul mate, you know. Not this person you were completely connected to. Because you’re so young and they just don’t think you are capable of feeling that.”

Trina nodded again.

“Cam and I talk a lot. He’s hurting a lot. You know when they were young, they fought constantly, but I knew deep down that they loved each other like brothers. And I knew that when they got older that they would have the relationship they ended up having. And Cam tells me a lot how over the moon Spencer was about you and how much you seemed to center him. And how special your love was, and it takes me back to Lucky and me and how we were back then, except Lucky was the one who centered me. So, I get it. And I know it doesn’t seem like it, but it will get… well better isn’t the right word, but you find a way to carry that pain and still live your life, and even be open to other things and other people, believe it or not. It just…takes time. The most important thing you need to do is be true to yourself. Don’t put on a mask and try to be okay because everyone is looking at their watch and thinking ‘when is she going to get over this’. This is your life. Live your own timeline. But remember, you only get one life. Finding a way to move forward is important, too.”

Trina inhaled and nodded, cradling a snoozing Ace. “Thank you. That’s great advice.”

“Earned from experience unfortunately.”

“I’m confused about him dying though. Isn’t he still alive, but overseas somewhere?”

“So, that’s where the evil side of the Cassadine family comes in. Spencer’s great grandmother Helena kidnapped Lucky and faked his death trying to enact some revenge against Laura and Lucky’s father Luke. They had this big family feud thing going on. That’s actually why Nikolas gave Spencer their family name, as a way of trying to end that feud. Anyway – Helena brainwashed Lucky – she later did the same thing with my son Jake who I also believed was dead – and when he came back… he wasn’t the same. We did eventually get married, and we did have some happy and magical times but… it wasn’t like it was, and, honestly, Lucky was never really the same. I guess neither was I. Something like that changes you.”

“So… you thought he was dead but he wasn’t. Just like Jason Morgan. And that happened on Cassadine Island, right?” Trina had a hopeful glint in her eye.

Elizabeth let out a sympathetic sigh. “Maybe I shouldn’t have shared this story.”

“I’m sorry. I know why you did. And it wasn’t to give me hope about people coming back from the dead,” Trina shook her head. “It’s just… I want that. So badly. We never found his body...”

“Trina -”

“I know. That’s not healthy. What you said though, the other part, that’s exactly it. What Spencer and I had. He was my first real and true love. I just know in my heart he was who I was meant to be with.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Yeah, I know what that feels like. And, you know, I know Cam is on the other side of the country, but I’m here if you just need to commiserate. It’s been a while for me, but that feeling never quite goes away.” They both took deep breaths. “Okay, let me take this sleeping blob off your hands.”

Trina rose with Ace in her arms. She kissed the top of his head and handed the blob off to Elizabeth. His face was contorted into a frown that reminded her of how Spencer looked when he was sleeping. She smiled at him adoringly. “Thank you again, Mrs. Baldwin.”

“Can I drop you off somewhere?”

“No thanks. I think I’ll enjoy the sun a bit more and walk.”

They exchanged smiles and Elizabeth turned to walk away. Trina sat back on the bench and took in the sights around her. All around her people seemed to be enjoying their day. She knew that Cam’s mom intended to give credence to the way Trina had been feeling disconnected from what she knew were the genuine condolences of her loved ones. It was because they just didn’t seem to grasp just how deep a loss this really was for Trina. Even so, she couldn’t help but think about how amazing it was that her Lucky didn’t really die, even if he wasn’t the same when he returned.

If she were presented with a choice of Spencer dying loving only her or him living and moving on with his life with her in his rear view… she’d choose knowing he was alive somewhere on this earth always. And so, it seemed unfair that she seemed to know so many people around her who had thought they’d lost someone they loved, and grieved for them, but somehow came out on the other side with the happy news that their loved one was alive. So, she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy, and, if she were being honest, a glimmer of hope. Spencer was a Cassadine after all. In her premonition, she never actually sees him die. He just drifts away.

She took a breath and smacked herself on the head. She’s calling it a premonition now, as if it wasn’t literally the nightmare that woke her up in a cold sweat this very morning. This wasn’t productive thinking; it was wishful thinking. If Spencer was alive, after everything his father put him through, he would never let her think he was dead. In Greenland, she knew without a doubt he wasn’t dead. She felt it. And now, she didn’t feel him. But was that because he wasn’t here, in Port Charles. Laura was right, they didn’t stay in Paris long after. Maybe she did need closure. But could she really face going back there?

Trina could feel Spencer watching her curiously with an amused grin on his face. “What are you doing, Baby?”

“I’m trying to find the right bench.” Trina replied as they stood in a small park close to the apartment he would be renting in the Latin Quarter a short five-minute walk from her dorm. Before they could have their first dinner in Paris, she had insisted on checking out the Sorbonne and walking the route to his apartment, and they came across this cute park across from the Cluny Museum. “I’m going to be having my morning coffee or tea or my evening sip of…something sophisticated and French,” she paused and watched him chuckle, “on my way to or from your apartment,” she smiled.

“Our apartment,” he corrected her as he moved behind her and pulled her into an embrace. “You will have your own key and will be free to come and go as you please and as your schedule allows. Keeping the dorm room makes sense. You need your own space to study. That’s the main reason you are here. But the apartment…it’s ours. Not mine.”

Trina smiled and leaned back against him. “Okay.” She turned in his arms and grabbed the lapel of his coat. “Our apartment,” she said with an almost shy smile as he gazed down at her. She was amazed that he could still make her stomach do somersaults with that look. “I can’t believe you were going to let me do this without you.” Trina marveled.

Spencer tilted his head. “You wouldn’t have been without me for long. I can’t stay away from you,” he replied. “I never could.” He leaned down and kissed her softly. “But I will also never hold you back from incredible opportunities like this one, Trina. This is going to shape your future. I would never let you pass this up. I want you to live your life and chase your dreams.”

“I am really excited about it.” Trina smiled.

“I know. I’m glad you accepted," Spencer smiled and nodded. "I would have waited for you, you know. I’m so happy I don’t have to, but I would have.”

Trina smiled. “We are finally at this place where things can just be about us. And I didn’t want to put that on pause, not for anything.”

“The Sorbonne isn’t just anything, Trina. So, I’m glad we found a solution that didn’t involve you passing up once in a lifetime opportunities.”

“You are a once in a lifetime opportunity too.” Trina grinned.

Spencer seemed taken aback and blinked slowly as he registered her words. His jaw clenched a bit and he closed his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.” he whispered.

She pulled him down to kiss him again and when she pulled back a bit his lips chased hers, greedy for another, and one more. She inhaled sharply. “Down boy! You need to finish helping me pick the perfect bench. I had one in Port Charles. I need one here.”

“Yes ma’am” he replied, grabbing her hand, and pulling it up to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

Trina rubbed her hand. She missed the thrill she would feel when he would kiss her hand. It was such a princely thing he’d do. So Spencer.

She looked at her purse. She was hesitant to read this last letter because it was the last one, and it would be her last peek into his mind. While sometimes she was disturbed to read about his heartache, she was also so touched to read about how much he thought about her and how caring and selfless he truly was when it came to her.

But she was on her bench, on a beautiful day, thinking about the possibility of returning to Paris. And she knew this last letter was written just before they left. She decided now was as good a time as any to take this final step.

---------------------------------------

“Trina, honey, where have you been? I was hoping we could find some time to talk today.”

Portia was sitting on Trina’s bed. Trina let out a disappointed sigh as she thought she was alone when she saw no one downstairs. She eyed her mother suspiciously. She’d had two long shifts since she’d found Trina in the gallery, so they hadn’t had a chance to talk, and Trina was fine with that. But now, here she was, in Trina’s room, sitting on her bed, with her Toulouse le Trec Exhibition book in her hands.

“Why do you have that?” Trina asked, trying hard not to sound hostile, but feeling very territorial over her things, especially her Spencer things.

“Trina, I came in here thinking maybe I missed you coming home. You seem to sneak up here a lot. So, then I decided I’d just wait for you here. I thought I’d straighten up some things while I waited. This book seemed interesting. I know you love Moulin Rouge. And you and Spencer,” she paused as Trina bristled at the sound of his name. “You and Spencer went to see it in New York, right? And I saw this…”

“You looked inside?” Trina set her things down and crossed her arms. She watched as Portia opened the book and ran her hand along the writing on the inside cover. Trina stepped forward almost as a protective reflex, her arm outstretched, feeling a desperate urge to hold the book in her hands again. But she took a deep breath and composed herself.

“This isn’t the first book I’ve found with an inscription written from him. I found one when I went looking for you after the Nurse’s Ball. I think that one said something similar. Something about everyday with you being a gift. This is a sweet thing between the two of you. I assume there are more inscriptions and small gifts?”

Trina nodded.

Portia looked down and began reading. “…being loved by you has been the greatest gift I could have ever received. There is no gift I could ever give you that could match this feeling, but I plan to die trying.” Portia paused reading to look at her daughter and touched her chest. “That’s really beautiful.”

Trina nodded. “A little too…on the nose though,” she said a little more bitterly than she intended. “He just wanted to show me the coast of France on this grand private tour…and he just…”

“He saved my baby girl.” Portia interrupted, nodding her head and reaching out to touch Trina.

“Mom, I realize that you are relieved and happy with that outcome. But I’m not…”

“Honey, I am relieved that you are still with us. And I am forever grateful for what Spencer did. But I’m not happy he’s gone.”

Trina let out a sardonic laugh, took her book, clutched it to her chest and walked across the room taking a seat on the bay window bench. Portia sat on the bed looking at her daughter curiously. “You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe you are happy he’s dead mom. Of course not. But I’m well aware you never wanted us together.”

“And I’m well aware that this is why you’ve been so distant with me since Paris. But Honey, this isn’t sustainable. We need to talk this out.”

“Mom, at first it was just about me not having the energy to deal with the snide comments about how this wouldn’t have happened if Spencer hadn’t made the choice to give Ace to his father. Which is so crazy to me. Esme came to Paris in search of Spencer and me. Not Ace. She came after me with a drug she brought with her that was powerful enough to completely overpower Spencer. And he was not a small man. It could have killed me, and she had every intention of doing so. How was that about Ace? And you all think that somehow if she just had been allowed to keep Ace, she just… magically wouldn’t have been homicidal. Really?”

“Trina, we didn’t mean…”

“I know what you meant Mom. And I know it wasn’t just you. His own grandmother has said something similar. And I just keep my mouth shut. Because it changes nothing. Spencer died with so many people not knowing who he truly was. But I knew, and really, that was all that mattered.”

“Trina, I know you loved him. But baby you’ve been buried in this grief, separating yourself from everything. You’re not in school. Honey, I’m worried about you. You have to start picking up the pieces and prioritizing your life again. This obsession you have with...”

Trina repelled backwards a bit. “Obsession?” she interrupted.

“You’re sleeping in the gallery. You’re consumed by these, these…letters he wrote to his dead mother. You keep wearing this dirty, ratty sweatshirt that we are not allowed to wash. This isn’t normal. I know you think that Spencer was the love of your life,”

“And there it is,” Trina chortled.

“Excuse me?” Portia’s voice was a bit more cutting. “There what is Trina?” She moved to sit next to her daughter.

“Mom, I love you. But I am old enough to know my own mind. I don’t think Spencer was the love of my life. I know.”

“Honey, you were both so young.” Portia shook her head slowly, dismissing the notion.

“And is that why you felt the need to actively try to interfere with my relationship?” Trina stood up and began pacing around the room.

Portia's mouth dropped open. “Trina…” her tone changed to a more careful one.

“You know Mom, it’s so funny. It didn’t really bother me that you didn’t approve of Spencer outright. I found it endearing that he had to work so hard to win you guys over.” Trina smiled. “He was so determined. And he willingly faced off with you over, and over again. And he came back dejected but hopeful about the next opportunity. He went out there on Christmas and tried to make inroads and you sent him back inside. He came back with the sweetest pout. But you still let him stay.” Trina smiled. “And then I watched him work up the nerve to talk to you at our going away party. He was determined to thank you because that was the gentlemanly thing to do. And I could see from his face that he wasn’t quite as successful as he’d hoped. But he didn’t complain. Not once.” Trina inhaled and looked at her mom. “And I never minded that. I know that you love me and, yes, he hurt me in the past. I was okay with the idea that he had to prove himself.”

“But what I never knew but found out in these…silly letters you were talking about, was that there was a period of time when you were actively interfering with us. You were literally telling him to break up with me. You lied to me about why he had to leave one night, and gaslit me into thinking he just left here with no word to just go see Esme and Ace. When. in reality, you blocked him from coming up here and made him leave. You tried to manipulate me into believing he’d be so careless. And you know what, he never said a word about that or any of the other times you tried it with him. I gave him the hardest time, and he just fell on the sword and took it. Because he never wanted to come between you and me. And you knew he wouldn’t tell me. You knew and used it to your advantage. You wanted me to doubt him. You wanted me to be insecure about his relationship with Esme. And he knew all along and said nothing. And still tried to win you over and prove himself to you because he loved me. So, I’ve been trying to find a way to move past all of this anger I feel about all of it. Because I love you, and I don’t want to be angry with you. And because I want to honor his wish that he not be the reason for tension between us. But then you go and say ridiculously dismissive things like ‘I know you think Spencer was the love of your life’ like I’m some 15-year-old with a schoolgirl crush, and I find it difficult to keep my mouth shut. Ma’am.” Trina finished pacing and sat down on her bed.

Portia took a deep breath and stood up. “I have made no secret about how I feel about Spencer. And I was right. In the end, his connection with that girl put you right back in danger.” Trina shot right back up to her feet, but Portia put her hand up to continue. “And he came through in the end. His love for you wouldn’t let her harm you. And I am forever grateful. And yes, I did try to convince him to do the selfless thing and end things with you. Because he was living with her and I didn’t think you should have to be subjected to that. And I was not alone in that thinking. Both of your fathers agreed.”

“Yet neither actively tried to break us up and if they had, both would have had the decency to say it all right in front of me and not try to manipulate me and play on my insecurities,” Trina bit back.

Portia took a step back. “You know, you’re probably right. And maybe that crossed a line.”

“Maybe?” Trina threw her hands up in frustration.

“I was doing what I thought was best for you. I never doubted that he cared for you, but I wasn’t sure that he loved you enough to put your needs above his own. And I’m sorry Trina as your parent I’m not convinced he was on that path. Yes, he cleaned up the mess with Esme.”

“Cleaned up the mess, Mom. He gave up his own life. Do you hear yourself?”

“Okay maybe that’s a poor choice of words. But look at this opportunity at the Sorbonne. That was supposed to be about you. And somehow, he ends up going with you? If your love was so grown up and strong, you’re telling me he couldn’t have withstood a few months apart from you? And look at you now? You’ve just given up your future now, once again because of him. And I know that’s not what I should be saying because you’re grieving but hell, we’re here now so I might as well right?”

“See Mom, this wasn’t really about how little you think of Spencer. I never really needed you to care for him. It has always been about how little you think of me and my choices. That was an incredibly callous way to describe how he died, but you’ve always been incredibly callous about him. So, I guess that is what it is. As for Paris, he went to Paris with me because I asked him to come. I was going to pass up the chance to go because I didn’t want to leave him. He didn’t want me to pass up the opportunity. He has been my biggest cheerleader when it comes to my future. And you would know that if you would have given him the slightest chance to show you who he was.” Trina took a deep breath. She did not want to cry. Not now. “As for my future with the Sorbonne or PCU, I agree, I do have some thinking to do. And I can’t do it here. I think I need to find closure, and I have decided I do want to go back to Paris. Alone. The apartment Spencer rented is still paid for through July, so I’ve decided I’m going to go there.”

Portia stood up mouth open. “Trina, I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“And finally, regarding Spencer, and whether he was capable of loving me enough to put me first since him keeping quiet about your extracurricular activities wasn’t enough proof for you …here.” Trina handed her mom the last letter she had just read and turned around to leave. “I’m going to go for a drive to clear my head. I can’t talk anymore right now. I’ll be back.”

Portia sat back down on the bench completely dumbfounded. Clearly this discussion wasn’t over. Her daughter was not thinking clearly. She thumbed the letter her daughter handed her and took a breath. Curious, she got comfortable on the bench, unfolded the letter and began to read.

1/23/2024

Dearest Mother,

As I write this it’s so hard to contain both my excitement of what’s to come and my anxiety of what could happen that is beyond my control now. So much has happened since my last correspondence which is bizarre because that was Thanksgiving.

Aside from Ace moving out, I have truly enjoyed the time between Thanksgiving and New Year’s. And this has been one of the first times in a long time I can say that. Of course I’m sure it’s unsurprising to you that Trina has a lot to do with that. Trina and I got to enjoy a great deal of quality time together. I tried, only marginally successfully, once again to make inroads with Trina’s family and earned myself glue gun duty on their rather quaint family tradition of ornament decorating. I think Dr. Robinson may have even begrudgingly liked the desk plaque I got her for her office as a gift. She’s tough. But given that she’s no longer actively trying to get me to break up with Trina, I think it’s possibly safe to say that I have come a long way. I don’t blame her for thinking I don’t deserve her daughter. Sometimes I wonder myself what I ever did to deserve her. But as long as Trina continues to choose me, I will spend my life proving that choice wasn’t the wrong one. I know that I can make her happy.

But, Mother, as we’ve established nothing in my life can remain simple and uncomplicated for very long. Esme began acting strange around Christmas. She just left Ace with me for an extended period of time during the holidays. His very first holiday season. This is an Esme who could barely be separated from the kid for an hour let alone a day. I knew something was off. And then when she was arrested for breaking into Wyndamere, my suspicions were only heightened. To make a long story short, it became obvious to me that Esme had her memories back. She called me a name only the old Esme called me, and she had this whole vibe and persecution complex that was a staple of old Esme’s manipulation tactics.

And just as I was piecing all of this together, while her hearing was going on for this breaking and entering thing, my dearly departed father showed up at the door. I’d spent so much time imagining what I would say to him if he ever returned. I’ve had so much anger about him abandoning Ace and leaving me to pick up the pieces and clean up his messes and take on his responsibilities at the expense of living my own life. But when it came right down to it, what came out instead was all the guilt I felt over allowing myself to be targeted and manipulated to begin with. That is what set this whole thing in motion. Ryan and Esme saw a sad, lonely boy in boarding school and saw him as an easy mark. And honestly, Mother, that’s been the crux of my anger. My father has been deserving of my ire, for sure, but this rage I have felt since Ace was born was really anger at myself for falling for their trap and for driving my father away.

Yes, he did horrible things. He hurt me deeply. But it was myself I was having trouble forgiving. And seeing him brought all of that into perspective for me. I love him. He is my father. He continues to fall short in areas where he should lead. He needs to own up to his mistakes and accept the consequences of his actions. And maybe one day he will be man enough to do that. But he’s not quite there yet. Even so, I had to let go of all that anger so that I can move on with my life. And that’s what I intend on doing.

His purpose for showing up at my door was to take Ace and me on the run, which was appropriately arrogant of my father. I’m no longer a child, and I have a life of my own that I want to live and that begins and ends with Trina. She is my priority now. I’m not leaving her behind to go on the run with my fugitive father. But I also want to protect Ace. And an Esme with her memories back is a dangerous person. I didn’t have a lot of time to make a decision, but in the end, I allowed my father to take Ace. And when Esme showed up, I stalled so that my father had time to get away.

Understandably, she didn’t take that well. I do know that she loves Ace. But I also know that Esme’s idea of love, especially an Esme with her memories, is warped and hinges on possession and manipulation. Before I let on that Ace was gone or that I knew that she had her memories back, she was angry that I hadn’t taken Ace to courthouse so that she could use him to garner sympathy from the judge. And she was even more angry because she’d apparently found out from Trina that Trina and I are going away together to Paris. She said if I truly loved Ace I’d stay. This after she moved out of my Grandmother’s house with Ace – essentially taking him away from me and limiting my time with him. And she challenged me to prove my love to ‘him’ by choosing to stay instead and not go to Paris with Trina. If I wasn’t certain her memories were back before, I was absolutely certain then, and even more convinced giving Ace to my father was the right choice. She was already reverting to old manipulating patterns and demanding some weird kind of fealty from me.

To my disappointment, my Grandmother is rather upset with me. She even called the police on me. But don’t worry Mother, Dante was clear that I hadn’t broken any law by allowing my father access to his own son. She doesn’t want to believe Esme has her memories back. She thinks I’m being spiteful. I’m not sure she truly sees that I’ve grown up. I think I’m forever stuck as that resentful, angry teenager in her eyes. I know she loves me, but I wish she could really see me now, and trust me. Anyway, I told her all of the things I picked up on, plus there’s the whole fact that Esme didn’t go to the police because she’s worried about being arrested. Her son is missing and she’s worried about herself. Not him. She’s trying to get help from my Uncle Cyrus of all people. But my Grandmother can only see that Esme is a mother who lost her child. Which I know sounds cruel. I get it. But does anyone not see that this is Esme we are talking about. Esme? I know in my heart that I’m right.

But that’s all out of my hands now. Ace is under my father’s protection, and I warned him that I would make him pay if he ever hurts Ace. And Mother, I mean that. Letting go of Ace has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but I know it’s the right thing. I will always make sure he’s safe and protected, but it’s time for me to live my own life.

And as I mentioned in passing earlier: I’m going to Paris with Trina. Tomorrow actually. She was accepted into an Art History program for a semester at The Sorbonne, which is such an incredible achievement. She’s just so smart and has endless potential. She truly can do or be whatever she sets her mind to. So of course she was accepted. But she wasn’t going to go because she didn’t want to leave me. Mother, my whole life has been filled with people I love leaving me. It started with your death giving birth to me – not your fault of course. My father. Emily. Britt left – I remember asking her how many time zones she was moving away to. I was essentially sent away to boarding school to live on my own – alone. And of course, people who die don’t want to die. And Britt at the time didn’t want to leave me. But she left. But Trina - she was prepared to stay, right here, and give up this amazing opportunity. It didn’t matter that I possessed the resources to visit her weekly if I wanted to. She didn’t want to be away from me. I’m not sure I can adequately express in words how that made me feel – being loved like that by someone as special as her.

With that said, there is no way I would ever allow her to pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity to study abroad at the SORBONNE. This is about her career and her future and ultimately her happiness. And her happiness matters to me more than I could ever express to her. I waited nearly two years for her to kiss me. I could have waited for her for six months while she pursued this. I’m not saying I would have liked it, but I could have done it. And I do have the resources to visit her. Often. And I could have, as often as she wanted me to.

But she took it one step further and asked me to go with her. How can I possibly say no to Paris for six months with the woman of my dreams. The truth is, I would follow her anywhere. There is so much I need to figure out about my own life. I know I’ve said that before to you. And I have been working on it. But so much has happened with Esme and Ace and my father. And now, finally, I get to focus on just Trina and just me. And I can’t wait.

I know that her family doesn’t approve entirely, but Curtis is arranging a little send off party for Trina tomorrow just before we catch our flight. He and Portia were kind enough to include me and invite my Grandmother, my Aunt Alexis, and my Uncle Sonny. I’ll be sure to thank them for that. I know they didn’t have to. I’m not sure my Grandmother will show considering how upset she was with me today, but I don’t regret what I did.

Trina is going to love Paris. And I’m excited to see it with fresh eyes and through her eyes. We are getting there a little early before her classes start, so I have a couple surprises up my sleeve that I can’t wait to see her reaction to. I’ve booked a nice hotel for us for the first couple of nights right on the Siene so we can explore and dine at our leisure. I’m taking her on a surprise private cruise that will take us up the Siene to the Normandy so she can see the French countryside and coast. We’ll dock and stay in Deauville. We’ll drive up to the Etretat Cliffs – where I have something really special planned. I'll keep that one to myself so I don't jinx the experience. One of the best things about these surprises is watching the look on her face and seeing her reactions. She’s so animated and vibrant. Her smile is captivating, and her joy is infectious. I love her more than I ever imagined possible.

And when the semester starts, I’m sure she will fall into a routine with her studies, and I’ll be staying about a five-minute walk from her dorm. She can come and go from my apartment however often she wishes. And this is the time I plan to use to discern what my purpose is. Right now, the only thing I’m clear on is that I know who I want to be with in life. I know who I am meant to be with. She knows what her path is outside of me, and I plan to make sure she gets to realize every dream and take advantage of every opportunity. She’s intent on earning her way up the ladder – “No buying favors for me Cassadine” – and I have no doubt that she has the talent and brains to reach whatever goals she sets for herself. It’s time for me to figure out what my goals are and how they can complement hers. She is my future, Mother, and I’m so excited to see what is in store for us.

So Mother, I am worried about Ace and my father. And Esme remains an unpredictable factor. But Trina will be with me and I’m so looking forward to this next chapter in our lives.

I’ve asked my Aunt Alexis to care for your gravesite while I’m away. She does such a great job picking flowers. I hope this is okay with you and I hope you understand. If you see Britt around, please fill her in. I think she’d find this whole story very entertaining. I miss her so much. I can hear her voice so clearly: “Well kiddo, don’t screw this one up!” So, tell her I won’t. There’s no way I am ever letting this one go again. Not while I’m still breathing.

Your Loving Son,

Spencer Cassadine

-------------------------------------------

Trina sat in her car and stared at her phone. She wasn’t sure about a lot of things these days but something about this felt right. She was going to Paris. In 3 days.