Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
Theo
W illow was sleeping when I returned from the lake after I stormed off from our interaction with Peter. I felt like a dick for abandoning her, but at that moment, my mind was in a tailspin, and I couldn’t think straight. What was worse was the fact that I could see the smugness in Peter’s eyes that he was enjoying my struggles.
The following morning, I woke up early and moved around the house, feeling like a jerk for abandoning Willow. Our day wasn’t bad. We’d actually had a decent time shopping for decorations. Willow talked a lot, but that was something I realized she just did. Miss Chatty Cathy over there. It would’ve been odd if she hadn’t spoken the whole drive to Green Bay and back.
“What the heck, Theo?!” I heard behind me as I finished clearing off the living room coffee table. I turned to see Willow standing there with a stern look, her hands on her hips.
I blinked at her a few times. “Morning.”
“Don’t you ‘morning’ me. You left me last night!”
“It looked like you and Peter were being buddy-buddy. Didn’t want to get in the way.”
She looked at me as if I were out of my mind, and I couldn’t blame her. My dramatic storm-off had been eating at me since it happened. I wanted to apologize. I needed to apologize. On the boat last night, I thought about a million ways I could’ve told Willow I was sorry. I beat myself up pretty bad about the whole thing, and on top of that, I didn’t catch any fish. Even the lake seemed annoyed with my bad attitude.
I wished Peter hadn’t gotten under my skin so easily. And normally, he didn’t. It had been years since I’d had a burst of anger build inside me, forcing me to storm off from being around him. It happened a lot when we were younger because he’d push and push me into a corner, teasing me in a way that no one else could, without others knowing he was bullying me. He’d do it until I had a seemingly dramatic outburst, and that was the part that other people noticed—not the buildup. Only me hitting my breaking point. Then Peter would act as if nothing happened and pretend to be as confused as everyone else when I had my explosions.
To everyone outside of my grandparents, I was an unstable, stuttering monster. Well, to my grandparents and Thalia—Jensen’s mom. Thalia and Peter had been together for a long time. She knew my cousin inside out, and even though no one else could see through his fake shock, Thalia could. She was the one who taught me not to react. To hold my ground and not let Peter get under my skin because that simply pleased him. Ever since she told me that, I’d done my best not to react.
Until last night.
Fucking hell, why did I allow him to get under my skin so easily? It happened so quickly, and knowing that Willow witnessed me fall into my old stuttering ways sent a wave of painful heat throughout my whole body. I felt the stress sweats starting to build up more and more as the three of us stood outside the pizza parlor. I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve kept my cool. But for some odd reason, I couldn’t.
And Willow witnessed it all.
It wasn’t until I stormed off that I realized Peter won. He wanted her to see me at my worst. He wanted everyone to see me that way. I was halfway to my place before I realized I left Willow stranded, which made me despise myself more. Willow’s sister was right for calling me an asshole. What a fucking asshole I’d been.
By the time I got to the house, I was too ashamed to stick around, so I hopped straight on my boat and left. Like a coward.
I was still trying to mentally figure out why Peter bothered me so much at that very moment after so many years. The only difference in how he treated me this time was that Willow witnessed it. Why did I care what she thought? And how did I make my caring stop?
“You didn’t want to get in the way? Theo, we were all talking,” Willow explained, confusion floating in her eyes. “We were having a normal conversation.”
A normal conversation?
She couldn’t see how Peter was trying to bait me, either. He was a snake, yet he seemed like a stand-up guy to her. I hated that she saw him as a good guy. And me? I was the stuttering beast.
Being unable to get my words out in front of her made me feel like when I was a kid on the playground and struggled to make friends. I felt ridiculous. Ashamed. Alone.
Apologize, Theo. Just say sorry.
“I didn’t want to have a conversation,” I growled instead. Why? Hell if I knew. I just knew whenever I got defensive, people left me alone. And I wanted to be left alone.
“Gosh, why are you so, so, so … angry ?! Peter was just making conversation.”
“He wasn’t just making conversation.”
“Yes, he was. He was worried about you afterward, too. It sounds like he wants a relationship with you.”
“Peter does not want a relationship with me. You don’t know him,” I spat out.
“So I’m supposed to believe that he was out to hurt you when you’re the one who stormed off and left me stranded? I was there trying to help you, seeing how you tripped over your words and—”
“I didn’t fucking ask you to speak for me!” I barked, feeling a nerve struck. I hated it when people spoke for me. I’d hated that for the longest time. I remember when I was a kid, I’d stutter so bad that teachers would try to finish my sentences for me. They’d make it a whole thing, and the other kids would snicker and laugh at me. The more the teachers attempted to figure out what I was trying to say, the more humiliated I’d become. Which only led to the worst stuttering. I hated it.
I hated when people spoke for me as a kid, and I damn sure hated it as an adult.
I was a grown man. I didn’t need a woman speaking on my behalf. Especially a wildflower woman like Willow.
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.” She gave me a small smile, and it felt painfully sincere. And dammit, that smile made my chest tighten in the weirdest way. She looked beautiful. I wished she stopped doing that when I was annoyed with her. It made me really confused.
“Listen. I think we just need a breather. We are in Mercury retrograde, which can cause communication confusion. We should go dip in the water and cleanse the negative energy away from us.”
“Willow.”
“Yes.”
“I’m never cleansing off my negative energy with you.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself. But if you ever need healing energy, you know where to find me.” She headed through the house toward the lake, swaying her hips back and forth. My eyes betrayed me, and I watched those damn hips the whole time they moved.
My stare was only interrupted by my front door flying open. In marched Jensen with no eye contact at all. He darted through the house without muttering a word to me and went straight out the back door to the patio. I followed his steps slowly to find him sitting and pouting in one of the rocking chairs.
I instantly knew what was happening because whenever Jensen was annoyed with Peter, he’d show up at my place, storm through my house, and go sit in one of the two rocking chairs. Most people would’ve thought that him sitting in those chairs was a random act and wouldn’t read into it too much.
I knew better, though.
Jensen’s mom, Thalia, made those two rocking chairs for me before she passed away. They were a “just because” type of gift. She’d always go above and beyond, and whenever someone would ask why she’d done what she’d done, she’d simply shrug and say, “Just because.”
I didn’t like many people, but Thalia was on the list of good ones. She was way too good for Peter and way too forgiving of him, too. Unlike Peter, Thalia didn’t come from a comfy background. She worked hard her whole life and still struggled. Peter made sure to remind Thalia of her shortcomings whenever he could because he was the definition of a shitty person.
But what Thalia didn’t have in possessions, she had in heart. I figured that was the best kind of revenue.
It was a shame that she lost her life shortly after childbirth. Jensen would’ve loved his mother, and Thalia would’ve loved her son. They had so much in common. I bet their hearts beat the same, too.
It was a certain kind of bullshit that good people could die young. The world hadn’t had enough time to experience their love.
The chair Jensen sat in rocked back and forth. They weren’t just chairs to him. They were his mother. They were her warmth. Her calmness. Her gentle heart. Her love.
And when Jensen needed his mother, he’d sit with her in those chairs and rock for hours.
I never rushed him. He could’ve stayed forever if he wanted to. If I had it my way, his father would stay out of the picture.
Every time Peter let Jensen down, I wanted to stomp Peter’s face with the heel of my boots. What a fucking nightmare.
Jensen sat down on my back porch, keeping his distance from me. He probably knew how pissed off I was toward his father and didn’t want to deal with defending him. Maybe that was what upset me the most. The poor kid went to bat for his father all the time as if Jensen wasn’t being raised by a total tool.
Then again, I wasn’t the best at pep talks. I knew every time Peter disappointed his son, Jensen took that to heart, even if he didn’t say a word about it.
A lot of guys didn’t talk about what hurt them. We simply buried that shit deep and kept life moving. Sometimes, being a man felt like the loneliest thing in the world. Women had each other in a way that men did not. They talked and expressed their feelings on a deeper level, which probably led them down a road of healing.
Us men were told from a young age to suck it up and keep it moving.
Sometimes I wondered what it would feel like to just…feel.
To let the world know that some days sucked and some were so painfully sad.
Instead, we men kept it moving, pretending to be fine when our hearts were broken. I knew Jensen felt that way whenever a moment came up when he should’ve had his mother present.
Thalia passed away not long after Jensen was born. Even though he never knew her, he missed her every day. Losing a mother’s love was hard. Mourning the relationship you’d never have. That kind of hurt left an emptiness within one’s soul that was pretty damn impossible to seal up. I was pretty sure my heart was still wrapped tightly with caution tape.
Caution: Don’t get too close. Fragile when touched.
I cleared my throat as I walked toward the back door of my place. As I pushed it open, the screen door creaked, the constant reminder that I needed to oil up the springs sooner rather than later. I probably needed to tighten a bolt, too. I possibly needed a whole new door. I’d add it to my ever-growing to-do list. I didn’t mind the to-do list at all. My mind worked best when it was overloaded with tasks to do. It didn’t leave much time for me to overthink anything if I was busy.
I was hoping the same could be said for Jensen.
“I’m fine ,” he pushed out the moment he heard me step onto the wooden patio. The patio creaked, too, in certain spots. I should look into that. Jensen didn’t look back toward me as he continued. “Dad’s just a dick.”
“Didn’t come to check on you,” I lied. “Figured you were fine,” I lied again.
His shoulders dropped slightly, and he fiddled his hands together nonstop, forming fists repeatedly before letting them go. “Oh. Okay.”
I sat next to him and copied his hand gestures.
We were quiet, staring out at the lakefront, uncertain if any words could make things better. I wondered what Peter did this time to push Jensen over the edge. Even though he said he was fine, he seemed extra tense that morning. Extra fragile. To the point that if I tapped my finger against his shoulder blade, he’d shatter into a million pieces.
I rested my hands on my lap for a second before I flicked my pointer finger across my nose. I pointed toward the right corner of my land. “Was thinking of getting that area dug up to plant a garden. Figured maybe you could help with the build.”
Jensen looked up for a moment and huffed before dropping his head back down. “Don’t do that, Theo.”
“Do what?”
“Try to make me feel better.”
“I ain’t trying to make you feel better. I’m telling you I want a fucking garden.”
“I’ve been trying to get you to plant a garden for years. Why now?” he quipped.
Because you’re sad, idiot.
With a shrug, I let out a small breath. “I’m sick of buying overpriced tomatoes.”
Jensen snickered.
A laugh.
I’d take a laugh.
“How big of a garden are you talking?” he questioned.
“Giant,” I expressed. “Grandma would love some squash. Zucchini. All kinds of things she could add to her sourdoughs, honestly.”
“Some red peppers could be good,” Jensen commented, sitting up a bit straighter. He gestured toward the area. “You could probably get a good herb garden going, too, if we space everything correctly.”
“You think? I figured it could all grow together. Spacing be damned.”
“ Spacing be damned ?!” Jensen remarked with a look of shock.
“Language,” I scolded.
“You said it first.” He tossed his hands up in a frenzy. “But the idea of just tossing together a garden without a plan is wild.”
“Oh?” I shrugged. “Didn’t think it mattered.”
“That’s because you don’t think, bonehead,” he commented, standing to his feet. “Lucky for you, I stopped by. I can whip up a plan and something for the landscape of it all, if you want.”
I tossed my hands up in surrender. “Only if you feel up for it.”
“What’s the budget?”
“Balls to the walls. Bring me your best A-game landscaping, and we’ll make it come to life.”
His eyes lit up. “Balls to the walls?”
“Don’t say balls. That’s not very gentlemanly of you.”
“You said balls.”
“I’m not a gentleman.”
Jensen smiled.
A smile.
I’d take a smile.
“I got some old construction paper somewhere in my office if you want to snatch that up. You can stay with me, too, as long as you need if it’s easier for you to be on the property to plot this out.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re just doing this to make me feel better, aren’t you?”
“Why the hell would I need to make you feel better? You said you were fine. Aren’t you fine?”
“Yeah.” He dipped his chin in a stern nod. “I’m fine .”
“Good. So just whip up a plan for me, will ya?”
“All right.” He paused and kept fidgeting with his hands. “It might take me some time, though. I might have to stay for a few days.”
“Take weeks for all I care, as long as you’re making something worthwhile.”
“Okay. Cool. Cool.” He headed into the house. The moment he was gone, I released a breath. That poor fucking kid.
I stood from my chair, and before I could fully stand, the back door opened, and Jensen came rushing out. He didn’t say a word but darted straight for me and wrapped me in a tight hug. I paused for a moment before wrapping my arms around him and patting him on the shoulder. He sniffled a bit but then let me go and headed back inside.
A hug.
I’d take a hug.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the heaviness on my chest. I wished I could take that boy’s hurt and feed it into my own heartbeats.
“So they do exist,” a voice said, breaking me away from my thoughts.
I turned to find Willow in a swimsuit, drying her hair with a towel.
I huffed and grumbled before distracting myself from her and her body by moving the patio furniture around. “What exists?” I asked, allowing my curiosity to get the best of me. I didn’t know what it was about that woman, but she had a way of making me curious about the thoughts that lived in her head. I hated that. I hated that she made me wonder about…her.
“Your feelings.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the fact that you saw that sweet boy sad, and sure, you didn’t give him words of affirmation, but you gave him the best one of the love languages—acts of service.”
“What the fuck is a love language?”
“It’s the way we as humans accept and give love. There are five main love languages. Acts of service, words of affirmation, physical touch, gifts, and quality time. They say every person has one that leads them.”
I glanced up toward her. “That sounds like some hippie bullshit.”
“What can I say? I’m a lover of hippie bullshit,” she said with a smile.
Hearing Willow cuss was odd. I didn’t know why it stood out to me, but it had.
“You don’t say?” I sarcastically remarked as my body tried its best not to react to her smile. Damn her and those perfect smiles. I wished she’d frown more. It would probably make me feel a lot less confused.
“Why do you try so hard to appear cold, Theo?” she asked. “It’s okay to care, you know.”
“If I wanted a therapist, I would’ve hired one, Willow. And if I did hire one, it wouldn’t be you.”
“I’m not a therapist. I’m just a girl who has a lot of feelings and thoughts.”
“Which you find the need to express out loud at all times,” I mentioned.
She smiled again.
Made me almost want to smile, too.
I prayed that feeling would dissipate sooner than later.
She walked toward me, the sun bouncing off her wet, shimmering skin, and tossed the towel over her shoulder. As she walked up the deck steps, she paused near me. She then looked out toward where I was planning the garden to be. “It’s a bit late into the season to start a garden,” she mentioned.
“I know that. I just wanted Jensen to…” Feel better. I wanted him to feel better because I cared. My words faded off as I realized she’d caught me in my feelings. The feelings I claimed I did not have.
I grimaced.
She laughed.
Our current normal exchanges.
Her smile widened, and she placed a hand on my forearm and squeezed it gently. “I know, Theodore. I know.”
“Theo,” I growled. “Just Theo.”
“Right. Of course. Just Theo ,” she remarked sarcastically. Or flirtingly? I wasn’t certain. I didn’t know how to read that woman.
“Willow?”
“Yes?”
“Can you leave me the hell alone?”
She frowned.
Fucking hell.
That didn’t make me feel less confused than her smiles. It actually made me feel…bad. And sad. The last thing I wanted to witness again was a Willow frown. It made my chest ache.
Can you stop being a fucking dick for just one day, Theo?
She wandered into the house, and I stayed there for a moment, trying to shake off the tingling sensation she sent through my system from that small touch. I also tried to shake off the guilt from seeing her lips turned upside down and her eyes filled with hurt.
Magic.
It had to be magic.
Willow Kingsley must’ve been a witch. Otherwise, I couldn’t explain why she made me feel the way she had. It wasn’t even as if she made me feel a few things. No. She made me feel everything . It had been a long, long time since I felt everything all at once, but somehow, she’d managed to unlock that within my system.
Which was quite an odd sensation, at best.
At worst, it was terrifying.
That meant one thing and one thing only. I had to become colder. More distant. Otherwise, I’d drown in the confusion of how that woman made me feel.