Chapter 26
26
Milo continues to be such a little shit.
“Okay. Seriously. Mr. Theodore, what is up with you?”
“Just doing some grading.” Theo keeps his voice nonchalant as he continues to mark up spelling quizzes. “ Circuit really stumped a lot of you.”
“Because there’s a quiet u ?” Kaia asks, not looking up from a tattered copy of The Son of Neptune.
Tyler groans. “There’s a u ?”
Milo narrows his eyes, undeterred by his deflection. “It’s Ms. Evie. Isn’t it?”
“Sit down, Milo.”
“I knew it.”
Kaia closes her book. “Did she make you sad?”
“Did you make her sad?” Annabelle asks, then nudges Sierra with a glittery elbow. Why the fuck is there glitter all over her elbow? “I told you something was wrong when Mr. Cohen didn’t ‘1985’ us last week!”
Commotion ensues, rendering silent reading over.
“Mr. Theo—”
“ Milo .” His voice is firm. Sharp. “Sit. Down.”
Silence.
Twenty-two sets of eyes stare wide at him. Theo doesn’t snap at his students, doesn’t snap at anyone ever , but he is exhausted. Some days, he worries it’s a mistake. Leaving Foothill. Moving back to New York. Accepting a job developing curriculums for kids when he’s found so much meaning and purpose working with his students. But in this moment? He can’t get out of here fast enough.
“I’m sorry.” Theo presses his index and middle finger to his forehead in an attempt to dull the early stages of a tension headache. “Can we not talk about Ms. Evie?”
Sierra looks at Kaia, then whispers loud enough for the entire class to hear, “Ms. Evie made him sad.”
“We hate her,” Annabelle declares.
Sierra’s nod is emphatic. “Obviously.”
At this swift, protective turn, he can’t help but laugh. “Don’t. I don’t.”
He doesn’t.
Theo just misses his best friend.
“You know what I do hate?” Theo asks.
Annabelle gasps. “You can’t say that word, Mr. Cohen.”
Theo looks at her like Really? , then stands and continues, “The average score on this spelling quiz! Let’s figure out these words together.”
Kaia frowns. “Shouldn’t we have ten more minutes to read?”
Theo replicates the Really? look, then gives Kaia permission to finish her chapter because he knows the rest of her day will be thrown off if he doesn’t. Then he’s at the board, writing down the ui words that tripped up his students. Circuit. Anguish. Guilt. Bruise. Then frowns at the board as if he’s just registering these words for the first time, as if he didn’t create this spelling test. If his students notice the theme, they don’t say anything. For the rest of the afternoon, they’re nice to him. It’s disconcerting.
At the end of the day, Tyler compliments his shoes on his way out the door.
Theo needs to get himself together.
You literally dropped me.
It’s been a month since Evelyn’s response to I love you broke his brain, since he signed an offer letter in an attempt to ease the pain, the guilt, the blame those words reactivated. He relives the memory every night, is seventeen again and back in that conference center in Anaheim, before drifting into a restless sleep. Does she still blame him for the fall that ended her dance career before it began? He does. Blame himself for it. Hate himself for it. And even if she doesn’t… if Evelyn just panicked and said that precise combination of words to hurt him?
It worked.
Rendered him an asshole.
Okay, Naomi.
Theo made such a mess out of his first attempt at vulnerability. Now he’s just doing his best to move through time on autopilot. Stays late to get his grading done, then goes home and cooks dinner for two, leaving the second serving in the fridge. Weekend mornings, he wakes up early and trains for a half marathon that he’ll never run because her snoring permeates the walls and it is unbearable. Even Survivor is a bummer, watching it together but not together . None of this is what he wants, but it’s for the best.
Evelyn doesn’t trust him.
Because it can’t be on me. When he regrets it.
Theo knows those words weren’t meant for his ears, but fuck , it hurt so much to hear the raw honesty in that confession to her therapist. He couldn’t have been clearer about his feelings and that was her takeaway? That he’d regret her? In that moment, he didn’t know how else to convince her. Didn’t want to have to convince her.
So.
He took the job.
Because if she is really, truly incapable of believing him, it’s easier to just give in, to be the person that she already believed him to be. Choose New York, the better salary, the life that he imagined for himself at twenty-three. Leave.
It hurts.
He hurts.
But it’s for the best.
This, at least, is a pain he can handle.
“Where’s Evelyn?”
Those are the first words out of Jacob’s mouth when he registers that his son is standing on the front porch, alone, on a Sunday morning. It’s a fair question. Evelyn doesn’t miss Sunday breakfasts. Theo is the one who opts out. But he’s here. Alone. Because Jacob still believes that they’re married and someone needs to tell him the truth.
“It’s me this week,” Theo says, crossing the threshold into his childhood home. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Jacob’s brow furrows. “Is she okay?”
“Yes?”
“So she made a GI appointment?”
Theo attempts to mask his concern, his obliviousness. “I think so.”
“You think so?” Jacob’s expression renders him fourteen again. Theo’s watch vibrates. “This is the third breakfast she’s missed. Keeps oversleeping? Get your wife to a doctor. ”
Theo clenches his fist.
Unclenches it.
Breathe .
Evelyn is probably just avoiding Jacob.
Because of the divorce.
But. He can’t know that.
Jacob pfft s , shaking his head as he pulls out his phone and types. It vibrates in his palm moments later, her response immediate—and only when his father’s shoulders sag in relief do Theo’s mirror his. Jacob slaps the message into Theo’s hand then escapes to the kitchen.
oh! thanks for checking. yeah, dr. g bumped up my infusion a week, then told me to take it easy for the rest of the week. i’m already feeling much better. my fault for being a workaholic, oops! see you next week?
9:01 A.M.
Theo’s pulse thrashes against his throat, so relieved, but also? He’s pissed. Mostly at himself for allowing the hurt to cloud his attention, for taking the food left uneaten as stubbornness, for believing Evelyn when she says I’m fine . But just as pissed that she concealed her pain from him when he could have been there for her. Health stuff trumps everything. She knows that. Does she think she’s sparing him? From the worry? Doesn’t she understand that he cannot turn that off? Theo could be in the next room, in New York, on the fucking moon . No matter how far away she pushes him, he will never stop worrying about her, wanting her, loving her. Theo sinks into the couch, the same couch where he used to watch Bake Off with his mom, and swallows his emotions.
He will not cry.
Not in front of Jacob.
“So,” Jacob says, returning to the living room with two mugs. “You going to tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“Yeah. Um…” Theo chugs the coffee. Burns his tongue. “That’s why I’m here.”
Jacob smirks. “And I thought it was to check in on your old man.”
Theo’s eyes shift down, settling on a streak in the coffee table where acetone once spilled. Evelyn wanted to paint their nails black before a competition and the bottle tipped over. Took the finish right off. “Evelyn and I started the process of getting divorced.”
Jacob sets his mug down. “What did you do?”
“What did I do?”
Jacob waits for an explanation and the sooner Theo gives one the sooner he can go. He starts at the beginning and tells his father a version of the truth. He needed their joint income to keep his apartment. Evelyn needed health insurance to take the fellowship. Them? This marriage? It was always meant to be a temporary condition. Transactional.
“We should’ve just been honest,” Theo admits. “We’re not married. Not really.”
Jacob’s eyebrows rise.
Then he laughs .
A bent-over, full-belly laugh.
“Like hell you’re not.”
The oven beeps once, twice, three times. Jacob stands, still chuckling as he’s called back to the kitchen to retrieve a quiche. Returns with a slice for Theo. He’s stunned. Coffee and quiche? Is this trying? Is Jacob… trying? Theo cuts into the quiche with his fork.
There are bacon bits in it.
He sets the plate on the coffee table. “Dad. I don’t eat meat.”
“Still?”
Theo has been a vegetarian for fifteen years. “Still.”
“Your loss.” Jacob takes a bite. “So. How are you going to fix things with Evelyn?”
“There isn’t anything to fix.”
“Bullshit.”
Theo flinches.
With the harsh snap of Jacob’s voice, he’s twenty-two. Lori’s most recent round of treatment didn’t do anything to shrink the tumor in her lung. She wanted to stop with the treatments, just wanted the pain to stop . But Jacob wouldn’t hear it, not even when Theo begged him to listen. His mom went through one more clinical trial and a final round of radiation before they finally told Jacob enough . Lori was steady. I’m dying . Theo was firm. There isn’t anything to fix . Jacob was livid. Bullshit. Cracks in their relationship were long apparent, but if he had to pinpoint a moment that severed father and son? It was this one. Theo’s choice to accept that some things are impossible to fix.
“Theo.” Jacob’s voice softens and it’s so out of character. “You love her.”
A statement, not a question.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Bullshit.”
“I took a job in New York.”
“There it is.”
“It’s a curriculum development role.”
“Last time, it was NYU.”
“What does that mean?”
“I need something stronger than this.” Jacob retrieves a bottle of Kahlúa from his liquor cabinet. “I’m shit at this. Feelings. Obviously.” He pours a generous splash into his mug, then chugs the rest of his tainted coffee. “But I loved your mom. Love .”
Theo’s eyes sting. “I know that.”
Love made Jacob selfish.
Possessive.
In so much pain.
“You love Evelyn.”
Theo’s too worn down to deny it. “She’s my best friend.”
“Lor was mine. And I’d choose her again and again, even if our story ended the same way.” Jacob pushes a hand through his curls, so similar to Theo’s own tendency to mess with his hair in frustration. “Because a love like that? It’s a goddamn privilege . You don’t run from it.”
“Run?” His voice is strained. “Evelyn told me to go. What am I supposed to do with that?”
“You stay.”
“Dad.”
“You fight for your wife.”
“Do you even hear yourself right now?”
Why is he here? Theo stands and reaches for his jacket. This news could’ve been a call, a text, an email , so why the fuck did he subject himself to this misogynistic bullshit in person? He can’t be here another moment. Can’t face the whisper of truth in his father’s words. It’s too much to be not just called out, but clocked by the person who has never understood him.
It isn’t until he’s at the door that Jacob speaks again. “You’re wasting so much time.”
“Really?” Laughter bubbles in his throat because if he doesn’t laugh, he will scream. “What kind of parent tells their kid that their dream job is a waste of time?”
“Mine.”
One word, the rarest glimpse of vulnerability from Jacob Cohen, sucks all the air out of the room. Cuts off his laughter. “Dad—”
“I never said don’t follow your dreams…”
He hears the ellipsis in his father’s voice. “But?”
“But, Theo. Is she not a part of that dream?”