Chapter 6
BECCA
I wait for Theo in the first-floor lobby of Atlanta General. I am weirdly sweaty, and it’s making me wish my scrubs were a darker shade of blue. The last thing I want to do is greet him with sweaty armpits.
There’s a small grouping of chairs around a low coffee table just past the welcome desk.
At first, I sit in the chair facing the door.
But I’m too jittery to sit still, so I stand and straighten the magazines on the table and throw away a couple of discarded cups from the coffee shop on the other end of the lobby.
There. That feels better, at least.
But seriously, what is up with my nervous sweating? I grab the closest magazine, one titled Local Atlanta, and use it to fan myself.
It’s fine. I’m fine.
There is absolutely zero reason to be stressed about seeing Theo again.
Especially when he’s coming to the hospital for such a good cause.
It turns out the nurse who was leaving with Emily that day in the garage, a woman named Lexie, works on the peds floor, and she did recognize Theo.
As soon as she found out that Emily knows me and that I know him, she reached out to see if I would ask him to visit one of her patients, a twelve-year-old hockey player in the middle of his chemo treatments for leukemia.
The Jaguars are his favorite team, and the Williamson twins are his favorite players.
At the time, I had already drafted a text to Theo explaining that I was happy to have seen him but I wasn’t up for dinner.
It felt like the safest option. The smartest way to follow my rules and protect myself.
I was still working up the nerve to actually send the message, but then Lexie gave me a reason to text something different, and who was I to say no?
A kid with cancer is definitely more important than my rules.
So I’m taking one for the team and working hard to convince my stupid, traitorous heart that I’m not at all excited to see him again.
“Becca.”
I spin around to see Theo standing behind me. I’ve been watching the front door, so I have no idea how he got past me, but the surprise of seeing him makes me fumble the magazine I’ve been using as a fan.
I reach down to pick it up and bump my shin into the coffee table.
“Oof,” I say as I finally manage to right myself. I reach up and smooth down my hair, which is annoyingly stuck to my lip gloss, and let out a little huff.
“You all right?” Theo asks, his lips lifting in a tiny half smile.
“Fine,” I grumble, even as my cheeks heat with embarrassment. This is not how this encounter was supposed to go. I’m supposed to be cool and collected, relaxed and in control.
Stupid sweaty armpits. This is all their fault. “I didn’t see you come in.”
“I came up the elevator,” he says. “I parked in the garage so I could drop off a few things for Dean’s kid.” He holds up a gift bag marked with the Georgia Jaguars team logo. “I brought double of everything. Figured since I was here…”
Warmth spreads behind my sternum. He brought double of everything. Of course he did.
“That was really nice of you,” I say.
Theo is wearing his Jaguars jersey—likely an intentional move, considering the nature of his visit. It looks good on him—almost too good—and I force myself to look away from his broad chest and focus on his face.
Which … this is not better. He’s clean shaven, blue eyes popping against his summer-tanned skin, and I feel a sudden impulse to run my hand over his jaw.
I take a tiny step backward just to make sure I won’t.
“It’s no trouble,” Theo says, hesitating the slightest moment before adding, “It’s nice to see you again.”
I nod my head and manage a smile. “Yeah. Likewise. Should we go upstairs? Lexie’s waiting for us. Garrison knows he’s getting a surprise visitor this afternoon, but he has no clue who it is.”
“Awesome,” Theo says. “I hope he isn’t disappointed.”
I let out a little laugh as we turn and walk toward the elevator. “You don’t need to worry about that. If Lexie’s texts are any indication, he might lose his actual mind.”
Theo nods. “So, how’s he doing? Garrison? Is he expected to make a recovery?”
“Fortunately, he’s got the kind of leukemia that’s easier to beat. His chemo is working, so for him, it’s mostly a matter of endurance, staying strong through the treatments.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Theo says. “It’s good he’ll be able to play again.”
“He should,” I say. “Lexie took me by to meet him this morning. He seems like a great kid.”
Theo adjusts the collar of his jersey as we step off the elevator, and I notice a faint sheen of sweat on his upper lip.
“You okay?” I hear myself ask, almost without realizing I’m doing it.
“I’m good,” Theo says a little too quickly, and I lift an eyebrow. His expression turns sheepish. “I’m good,” he repeats. “Carter tends to be a little better at stuff like this. I don’t usually do it without him.”
“Stuff like … talking to fans?”
“Sure. Kids, especially.”
I eye him carefully. In high school, Theo rarely struggled to talk to anyone.
But he did struggle when it came to talking about his feelings, and I often thought all his showmanship was a cover for what was really going on inside his brain.
In retrospect, that should have been a clue for what was coming.
When all those feelings on the inside got too big for him to process on his own, he basically imploded.
The fact that he just admitted something even a little bit vulnerable with so much ease—it’s a different side of Theo.
Or maybe just a grown-up one?
“Just be yourself,” I say. “And if you ever don’t know what to say, ask him questions. Kids like it when adults seem interested in them.”
We reach the nurses’ station on the peds floor, and Lexie hops up from the desk, coming around to greet us. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and she looks like she spent a little extra time on her makeup this morning.
I swallow my irritation—why should I care that Lexie looks like a supermodel?—and force myself to focus on the good we’re trying to accomplish today.
“Oh my gosh,” Lexie says, extending her hand to Theo. “You have no idea how big this is. Thank you so much for agreeing to come.”
“It’s no problem,” Theo says. “I’m happy to be here.”
Lexie tells us a little more about Garrison as we head to his hospital room. He’s the oldest of three boys. He loves country music. His favorite subject in school is math. He plays defense in hockey, just like Theo.
“He isn’t usually an inpatient,” Lexie says as she pauses outside his door.
“But he picked up an infection that tanked his white blood cell count, so he’s been here the past week.
We’re hoping he’ll be strong enough to go home this weekend.
I should warn you, his parents have gone above and beyond to make his room feel like home, so don’t be surprised if you see your own face on the wall. ”
“I appreciate the heads-up,” Theo says.
“Okay. Let me go in first and make sure he’s good. I’ll come back for you in a sec.”
I glance up at Theo, wondering if it’s weird for him to think about fans having his poster on their bedroom walls. But Lexie is back before I can ask him, and then she’s ushering him into the room.
“You must be Garrison,” Theo says as he steps inside. “Someone told me you’re a Jaguars fan?”
The room erupts into gasps and exclamations of shock as he shakes Garrison’s parents’ hands and then pulls up a chair next to the hospital bed.
I hover in the doorway—there’s no reason for me to be here—but I can’t bring myself to leave.
Garrison’s joy is infectious, and despite his insecurity, Theo does an excellent job talking to him.
They talk about hockey, mostly, Garrison peppering him with question after question.
But Theo asks him questions too. About his game.
How he tapes his stick. What he likes most about playing defense.
“It’s a big responsibility,” Theo says. “You don’t always get the glory like the big scorers do, but you still do important work. It isn’t just about stopping the other team. It’s about protecting your own.”
Suddenly, I’m sitting in the rink watching Theo practice, hearing his junior hockey coach say the same thing to him. It’s an unexpected echo, yet another reminder that this man I don’t really know used to be a boy I knew better than anybody.
As I listen to the happy conversation happening in front of me, my own heart starts to soften. Because of the way we broke up, with such a harsh and sudden end to ever seeing each other, Theo stayed frozen in time, trapped inside my heartache.
It’s nice to see him like this. All grown up. A man defined by so much more than our relationship or the tragedy that led to it ending.
I pull out my phone while the conversation continues and glance at a few new notifications. A message from Rory catches my eye.
Rory
Hey. In Atlanta tonight for a quick meeting before flying to New York. Can we meet?
I frown at my phone. I guess he’s back from Tokyo. But … can we meet?
Why does that feel so ominous?
It doesn’t help that we’ve barely talked the past two weeks.
Despite his warning that I wouldn’t hear from him while he was in Tokyo, we did manage to squeeze in a phone call last Sunday.
But two minutes in, he got another call from a client, promised he would call me back, and then texted fifteen minutes later saying we’d have to try again another time.
I’m clearly not his priority right now, and I have to wonder if that’s why he’s here. To make a clean break. He’d definitely want to do it in person. He might be a little overcommitted to his work, but Rory is still a decent guy.
Then again, what if I’m wrong and he’s here because he wants to fight harder, to make things work between us?
I should probably figure out what I want before I see him.