Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Marley
Later that night, I couldn’t sleep.
I kept replaying the way his thumb brushed my cheek, the way he said “we’ll figure it out” like he actually meant it. Now, for the first time in a long time, I want to believe someone when they say they’ll stay.
Which only makes the silence in my apartment feel louder.
My mom’s been gone when I come home for four days in a row now.
She comes home late, usually around eleven, when I’m already asleep, and I’m gone again before she ever gets up. It’s like we’re shadows in the same space, moving around each other without ever actually being there.
Every morning and night, I check for the note. The one she leaves when she’s using or drinking again. She knows she can’t live here when that happens.
At first, drawing that line felt like a betrayal, but I had to. If I didn’t, I would’ve drowned trying to keep her afloat.
We’ve reached a point in our relationship where the lows aren’t even worth talking through anymore.
It’s happened too many times to count. There’s no reasoning with someone who’s already vanished behind a lie.
So, we usually vanish from each other, too, until the cycle resets.
Until the day she shows up at my door again, ready to pee on a stick to prove she’s sober, asking to move back in.
Perhaps she and I were never meant to be steady in the way I used to picture. Maybe we’re just caught in a loop, falling apart, then inching toward better. Never all at once. Just tiny shifts. A sober month here. A boundary held there.
No apologies. Just longer pauses between the storms.
I’ve learned that healing isn’t linear. And love doesn’t mean fixing someone else’s wounds. It means showing up without breaking apart every time they do.
The moment I open my eyes the next morning, the first thing I do is check for the note.
There’s nothing there, except for her keys and an empty paper coffee cup from the diner two blocks away.
With her still asleep in her room, I take the opportunity to pop the lid of her cup and sniff.
It’s regular old dark brew, no smell of alcohol.
I should feel relieved. Instead, I only have more questions.
It’s a Saturday, and for the first time in months, I don’t have rehearsals, a show, or work.
As someone who thrives on being busy, the idea of a quiet, unscheduled day makes my skin crawl. I try to fill it—cooking eggs, watching the latest episode of my favorite trashy reality show. It’s no use. I’m not a stay-home-and-cook-breakfast kind of girl. I have no idea how to be content alone.
Give me a few more hours like this, and I’ll probably do something unhinged, like bleach my eyebrows or sign up for hot yoga and immediately pass out.
Which is why I pick up my phone to make other arrangements.
Marley
What are you doing tonight?
Emmy
Nothing, unless you count existential spiraling.
Marley
Honestly, same.
Marley
Want to hang out? And would you mind if I invite Theo and his brother too?
Emmy
Is his brother single?
Marley
As far as I know, yes.
Emmy
Is he hot?
Marley
From a totally subjective point of view, definitely. He’s got the Prescott genes. The whole lot of them are unfairly gorgeous.
Emmy
Text me the details. I’m off to go do an everything shave. The next time you see me I’m going to be as hairless as a dolphin.
Marley
I admire your dedication to potential nudity before even learning his name.
Emmy
Listen. If there’s even a 2% chance I’m getting railed tonight, these legs are coming in silky.
Marley
You terrify me, yet I’m in awe.
Throwing on a black sundress, I throw my keys into my purse and head out the door.
It’s best to work on an element of surprise when springing spontaneous plans on a chronic planner like Theo.
In the backseat of a rideshare, I send Emmy the time and address of where to meet, and text Holden to be there in about an hour if he wants in on the weekend plans he’s been pestering us about.
We pull up to Theo’s building, and I’m out of the car before the painfully chatty driver can fire off another question.
The concierge at the front desk appears to be in his late fifties, with a full head of neatly side-parted white hair and a pinky ring that screams he’s not afraid to take me down.
I forgot that in Theo’s life, there’s no such thing as unexpected visitors.
Here, he has valets and doormen, concierges, and intercoms. It’s about as locked down as you can get without requiring a retina scan.
After a quick sign-in, the concierge clears me to go up.
Standing at his door in the middle of the empty hall, I give the door of his apartment three strong knocks.
There’s silence, and maybe I should be worried I’m interrupting him.
Then I remind myself that this is Theo. The man who orgasmed in record time and somehow looked dignified doing it. Who probably values alone time more than most people value oxygen.
Before my brain can spiral further, he opens the door.
Shirtless.
I swear to you that I thought the man could not get any hotter, but wow, was I wrong. He’s golden, and shining with a light layer of sweat, the muscles of his abs rising and falling with each labored breath. When he sees me, his eyes crinkle at the edges with happiness.
“Hi, love,” he says, opening the door wider for me to come in. Not even a trace of surprise to find me standing on his front doormat.
I walk past him, spinning around to face him. “And here I thought you’d say, what the hell are you doing unexpectedly at my apartment on a Saturday?”
He shrugs. “You’re the exception.”
“The exception?”
“Yes. The exception.” He walks closer, leaning in to gently kiss me. “If it were anyone else at that door, I’d probably panic and close it in their face. You’re different. I could be around you all day and still want more.”
“You really shouldn’t tell me things like that, or I’ll start showing up unannounced all the time.”
“In my book, that’s a good thing. I’ll let the front desk know to let you up whenever you want.”
I run a finger down the crease of his abs, the muscles flexing at my touch. “Theo, you can’t do this to me. How are you even real?”
Shrugging, he runs a hand through his hair, more embarrassed than proud. “Working out keeps me sane, I guess.”
“Well, your sanity looks suspiciously like something out of a Calvin Klein ad, so whatever you’re doing, I’m here for it. Now, show me where this magic happens before I spring something else on you.”
There’s nothing better than showering him with compliments that I know he simultaneously loves and is slightly embarrassed by. I get the sense he prefers flying under the radar, but every human has four basic needs: food, shelter, water, and to be told they’re pretty.
Men included.
Grabbing my hand, he pulls me deeper into his apartment.
Past the deck, where I began to realize I had a crush on him.
Past the kitchen where we burnt vegetables and kissed for the first time.
His space is still sterile and lifeless, but being here twice now, it’s already begun to hold important memories.
It’s the type of warmth that doesn’t come from decor.
We reach the far side of his apartment, where he slides a black barn-style door, revealing a built-in home gym. There are mirrors, machines with so many straps and pulleys that I know I’d get tangled up within minutes. Barbells, dumbbells, kettlebells—every fucking kind of bell imaginable.
“This is it,” he says simply, awaiting my reaction, which of course is going to be over-the-top.
My mouth falls open as I walk in, arms wide as I spin in a circle to admire it all. “No wonder you don’t like leaving your house.”
We lock eyes in the mirror, a small smile tipping his mouth up in the corner. “Want to tell me why I have the pleasure of having you in my apartment on a Saturday?”
“Do you want the fun reason or the real, not-so-fun one?”
“You already know I’m choosing the not-so-fun one.”
“I figured,” I reply, smiling.
With his chest pressed to my back, I guide his arms over my shoulders and cross them in front of me. His chin comes to rest lightly on top of my head as we stare at our reflection in the mirror.
“I hate being alone,” I admit. “It reminds me of all the times my mom left me in our apartment for days while she was off on one of her benders.”
He pulls me tighter into his chest, protective without saying a word.
“Now, I’d rather fill my time with things that make me feel good. And being by myself just doesn’t feel good.”
His mouth presses into my hair. “You’ve got me now, okay? You never have to be alone again.”
I’m not a crier, but in this moment, Niagara Falls feels like a real possibility.
He notices the tears gathering in my eyes and pulls back just enough to see me. “Shit, I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” I whisper. “Not at all. You said the right thing. The thing I’ve waited my entire life to hear.”
He spins me in his arms, cradling my face between his hands.
“Good. Because I mean it. I may be quiet sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not all in.
” His thumbs swipe gently beneath my eyes as he hesitates, weighing how much he should say.
Then he lets all those carefully controlled thoughts flow out.
“I know this is new between us, and I don’t want to send you running for the hills by saying too much, too soon.
But to me, this feels like the start of something big.
Life-changing big. And I can promise that if you’ll have me, I’ll take care of you—”
He doesn’t even get the last word out before I rise onto my toes and press my lips to his. The force of the kiss knocks him back a step, but he doesn’t let go. If anything, he holds on tighter.
I never expected it to be him. The guarded one. The one who always kept the world at arm’s length.
However, Theo Prescott ended up being the person I’d been waiting my whole life for.