Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
Willow
A fter Theo left Molly’s house, I wasn’t far behind him. I saw the pained expression in his eyes. What hurt me the most was the idea that he’d suffer alone with the heavy thoughts flying around in his head.
I couldn’t imagine how intermixed all of his emotions had been that evening. I wasn’t certain I would’ve recovered at all from the back-to-back hits Theo experienced that night—all during his grandfather’s funeral.
As I walked into the house, I found Theo in the bathroom with the door open, washing his hands.
I leaned against the door, waiting for him to speak to me but not wanting to pressure him at all. We didn’t have to talk if he didn’t want to. Sometimes a person just needed to know another was right there in their corner.
He sighed as he shut off the water. He dried his hands on the towel hanging against the wall, then turned toward me. “Sorry, I, uh…” He shifted in his shoes, he cleared his throat, and his eyes seemed packed with shame. “How things went tonight… I know PaPa would be so disappointed…and well…” His shoulders dropped low, and he couldn’t allow himself to look me in the eyes. I bet there was a lot of regret and confusion, making it hard for his thoughts to make sense.
I placed a hand against his forearm. “Hey, Theo?”
“Yes?”
“You want to go fishing with me?”
As we sat quietly in the boat, the night sky was sprinkled with more stars than I could’ve ever imagined. Even with all the heaviness, the sky decided to be beautiful. I wondered if Harry had any say in how the stars shone that evening.
Theo and I didn’t even put our lines into the water. We simply headed out on the boat, still in our outfits from the celebration of Harry’s life, and sat in the middle of the lake. I didn’t speak, which must’ve been a first for me. I didn’t have a clue what I could say to make him feel better.
Theo sat with his elbows resting against his legs as he fiddled with his fingers, staring out at the water. He lowered his head for a moment. “I’m ashamed.”
“You shouldn’t be. Peter was drunk and pushing you. On top of that, the situation with your mom—”
“No,” he cut in, shaking his head. “What I mean is I’m ashamed that I fell in love with her.”
I tilted my head, confused by his words. “Who? Thalia?”
“Yes. Like I mentioned before, she was my best friend. The only person, outside of my grandparents, who was kind to me. I’d do anything for her. I knew I was in love with her, but I pushed those feelings down because I didn’t want to lose her as my friend.”
“Can I ask how you two ended up hooking up?”
He huffed slightly, but it wasn’t a huff of irritation. It was an embarrassed one. “You’re going to judge me.”
I glanced at our surroundings and gestured toward them. “Theo, do you hear that? Do you see that? The water? The nature? The peace? This is not a place where judgment exists. Especially from someone who cares for you the way I do. Please share your story.”
He brushed his hand against his chin before he spoke. “She came over after she and Peter got into one of their massive fights. It was nothing new, honestly. Whenever they’d fight, Thalia would show up at my doorstep. Kind of like how Jensen does. Only this time, she said it was different. She asked me if she could stay with me for a few weeks while she figured out where she was going to go. I, of course, said yes. What else would I have said? She was my best friend. My person. I’d do anything for her. She stayed a few days, and I took care of her. She told me all the awful things Peter had done toward her that she didn’t share with anyone. He never hit her, but he’d throw things. He’d spit at her. He’d rage when he drank too much.” Theo’s eyes stared out at the water as he shared the story.
I couldn’t take my eyes away from him as he continued.
“She told me that she wasn’t shocked that she got together with someone who was just like her father—a man who was mean and cold. I knew Thalia’s father—he was exactly like Peter. Cocky. Rude. Arrogant. But then, Thalia said she wished she could fall in love with someone different. Someone like me. I didn’t think much of it until she asked me to hold her one night. Then she asked me if I loved her. Like an idiot, I said yes. Then she asked me to kiss her. Like an idiot, I said yes. She was my first kiss. My first and last until, well…you.”
That fact made my head swirl a little. “You haven’t been kissed in that long?”
“Yeah. It’s been a while. I didn’t miss it, though. I didn’t miss any kind of physical or emotional intimacy after her. When she was at her lowest, she asked me to sleep with her. I was a virgin at the time, but I knew it was right. Because I loved her. I loved her so damn much, and I swore I’d spend the rest of my life treating her like a goddess. That night, we slept together. The following morning, she told me she was going into town for eggs, and she never came back. I called her repeatedly to check in, but no answer. Later, I found out she and Peter talked things out. She went back to him.”
“Oh, Theo…”
“Yeah. That did a number on my psyche. Not long after that I learned she was pregnant with Peter’s kid. We never spoke again until she showed up after Jensen was born. This was when she was sick and knew she didn’t have much time left. She asked me to look after her son for her. To take care of him if he needed anything. She also gifted me those rocking chairs for Jensen. She asked me to hold on to them and let him sit in them when he wanted to feel closer to her.”
“Even after what she did to you, you still took those chairs from her and looked after Jensen?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “Because that’s the bullshit no one tells you about love. It doesn’t just turn directly into hate. Most of the time, love turns into sorrow, not hatred. Then other times, love lasts forever, and you do right by the very people who did you so wrong.”
“Sometimes I think love is a curse.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But what a beautiful fucking curse it can be.”
“I feel that way about my friendship with Anna. After her mother told me Anna never wanted to see me again, I left town. Because I loved her too much to be a reminder in town of what I stole from her.”
“How did that situation change you? Losing Anna in your life?”
I told him exactly how it changed my life. I’d spent years trying to live the life Anna dreamed of because I felt I’d stolen that world from her.
When I was a child, I never thought I’d travel the world. I always thought I’d stay in the small town, with my small-town life that felt so big to me. Married with kids. A lot of kids. A litter of them, I’d always joke. I wanted to have a garden that I tended to every night. I wanted to fall in love with the same person over and over again until we both kissed the earth goodbye. I wanted a slow life, a slow love, and a slow existence. A life like Molly’s.
Anna was the opposite of me. She craved the road; she craved that freedom. And after the accident, she lost all her future plans in an instant. I felt the heaviest level of guilt for what I stole from my friend. I stole her life. I stole her freedom. So all I could think to do was live for her. See all the places she talked about and kiss all the souls she’d dreamed about kissing. It wasn’t healthy, but the longer it went on, the more I pretended it was fine. The faster I moved through life, the less I thought about it. I’d pretend I was happy. I’d pretend I was all right. It was all going fine until I met him.
Theodore Langford.
The boy who showed me what it looked like to slow down.
The boy who lived life slowly.
Not chasing anything but the next bite on his line.
Watching Theo, even the grumpy chapters written in the story of him, was like watching a vision of the life I used to daydream about for hours. He and his world were everything I’d ever dreamed of for myself. A slow life. Not easy, but peaceful.
Meeting him was triggering in so many ways because I truly forgot about my dreams until he walked into the picture frame.
Theo and I shared everything that night—our hurts, our pains, our struggles. He talked about his mother, and I talked about mine—something I never did. He listened to every word I shared, and I listened to everything he said, too.
Theo turned his chair toward me and placed his hands against my raised knees that I was tucking into my chest. He stayed there for a few moments, simply maintaining eye contact with me. He didn’t say any words, but that wasn’t uncommon. At first, I thought his lack of words meant a lack of interest, but I now realized how silly I was to ever think such a thing.
His silence wasn’t disinterest. It was comfort.
I never knew silence could be comforting because I never sat in it long enough to hear its calming whispers.
Next, Theo reached his arms around me and pulled me onto his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head against the crook of his neck, closing my eyes as I breathed him in. The boat swayed slightly from me falling into his lap, and then it steadied again. I steadied again against his chest. It amazed me what being in his arms could do to the loudness of my soul.
It was as if words were no longer needed when he wrapped me in his arms. It was as if this little bird didn’t find the sudden need to so desperately fly away. My wings were tired. All I wanted to do was rest. And he became the weighted blanket wrapped around me that silently fed me my new favorite lullabies.
“Willow,” he whispered, his voice low and controlled. I liked that about him. I liked that he always, always, always seemed to be in complete control of himself. I wondered if he knew how he controlled me, too.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for listening.”
“Thank you for sharing.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Of course.”
“I think you’re it for me.” His chin brushed against the top of my head as he held me close to him. “You’re my clementine.”
I looked up at him to find his stare on me. He took a few deep breaths, and I mimicked his breathing pattern as I stayed glued to his lap. “You’re my clementine, too,” I softly said.
I slowly closed my eyes as my mouth grazed his lips. We kissed gently with a kind of care I didn’t know kisses could hold.
Our foreheads fell together, and I fell in love.
I fell in love right then and there in the middle of a lake in small-town Wisconsin.
Oh.
My heart…
I didn’t know it knew how to fall in love. I thought it would always and forever hover around the concept of love, never sticking a landing. Yet there I was—completely grounded in my love for him that night.
I didn’t say the words, and neither did he.
Yet maybe right at that moment, we didn’t have to say I love you.
Maybe tonight, clementines were enough.