Epilogue #2
No. Stop it. Teddy had been coming to these pub sessions for weeks now, ever since we’d got back from Scotland.
The team had welcomed him with open arms. He and Priya even had inside jokes now.
About rubber ducks, for some reason. Felix had warmed to him quickly as well, though that might have been because Teddy actually listened when Felix explained his latest tech projects instead of glazing over like the rest of us.
I loved watching Teddy fit into our chaotic little family.
The way he’d started smuggling proper crisps in under his jacket, instead of the shit ones the pub served.
How he’d learned everyone’s drinks and didn’t mind queuing for rounds, unlike the rest of us.
The way his eyes still lit up every time they called him Theo, not Maxwell.
I grinned at Kit, swirling the dregs of my pint. “So, how much money do I have to pay you for you to tell me who you’re in love with?”
Kit coughed, spluttering his drink everywhere. Beer sprayed across the sticky table, droplets hitting my sleeve.
“Excuse me?!”
“Oh, come on, you didn’t expect me not to ask, did you?” I leaned back, crossing my arms.
Kit’s face went bright red, matching the tips of his ears. “It’s been three months,” he muttered, frantically dabbing at the spilled beer with a napkin. “I thought I’d gotten away with it. Oh look, here they come!”
I turned, expecting him to be taking the piss as a diversion tactic, but there they were—Seb, Flynn, and Priya.
Seb came through the door with his umbrella half up, earning curious looks in the bright afternoon sunlight.
As they reached our table, Priya grinned broadly as she slid into the seat beside me and knocked our knees together.
“Horrible weather, isn’t it?” Seb said, settling his umbrella against the table leg.
Priya laughed, then eyed my drained glass before glancing towards the very busy bar. “Where’s your boyfriend? I need him to buy me a drink.”
I glared at her. “He’s not your bar bitch. He’s mine.”
Flynn said, “You know Theo only volunteers to get your drinks so much because that way he can order you singles, right?”
“Pfft. He would never betray me like that.”
I watched as Flynn shuffled even closer to Seb, winding a stray curl around his finger before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
I smiled. These two used to make me sick to my core with jealousy.
Instead, an intense pang of missing Teddy shot through me—something that happened every time we were apart for too long.
Like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed, stealing my breath.
I unlocked my phone to check for messages.
My background was my favourite ever picture of Teddy—one of Freddy sitting on his head whilst Teddy scowled at the camera, arms folded.
I opened up the contact labelled “Teddy Bear.” He’d groaned when I’d shown him the name, but I knew he secretly loved it. Probably.
In his phone, I was listed as “Thorne in my Side.” I’d changed it twice to “Thorne in my Ass,” but Teddy didn’t seem to find that as funny as me.
Then I felt it—a distant tug, faint but definitely there. He was close.
A smile crept onto my lips, that familiar warmth spreading through me.
“Move onto that stool so Teddy can sit next to me,” I ordered Priya.
“Are you fucking joking? No way.”
She crossed her arms, settling deeper into the booth like she was planning to take root there.
A minute or so later, Teddy strolled through the door, eyes scanning the busy pub. When he locked eyes with me, a jolt shot through my entire body, kick-starting my pulse. Thump, thump, thump. The sound of his heartbeat echoed in my ears.
“You’re late!” I told him when he reached us. “And now you have to sit on a stool. Priya won’t move.”
Teddy rolled his eyes but didn’t sit down. Something odd threaded through him into me. Almost like… nervousness?
“Sorry. I had to go grab something on the way here. Can you come outside with me for a second?”
I stared at him, confused. Priya looked between us, eyebrows raised.
“Umm… okay?” I said, pushing at Priya so she’d let me out of the booth.
“Oi, watch it!” she snapped.
The short journey to the pub garden felt like walking through treacle. Teddy’s anxiety bled into me through our bond, creating a horrible feedback loop—his nerves making me nervous, which made him more nervous, which made my own heart pound so badly I could barely breathe properly.
By the time we stepped into the small courtyard behind The George, my hands were shaking.
Fuck, he’s breaking up with me. He’s bored of me. He can’t take it anymore. He’s going to do it right here. And I’ve missed all the signs again, just like with Dev.
I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. Maybe if I concentrated on the good bits, I could store them up before he took them all away.
Three months of Teddy bringing me coffee in bed every morning I stayed over, even though he thought I drank too much caffeine. The way he’d started buying the expensive beans from Fat Cat’s to try and replicate the experience from home.
Three months of him sneakily feeding Freddy crackers when he thought I wasn’t looking, to try and bribe him into liking him. Three months of Freddy biting his hand in return.
Three months of the most mind-blowing sex I’d had ever, including the way he’d let me scent mark him whenever I felt anxious, marking every inch of his skin until he smelled like mine for days.
Three months of him learning how to cook all my favourite meals instead of living off restaurant food. Teddy standing in his tiny kitchen, swearing at a recipe book whilst smoke billowed from the oven, refusing my help because he was “perfectly capable of following basic instructions.”
Movie nights where he’d pretend to hate my film choices but somehow always ended up completely absorbed, shouting at the screen. The time he’d cried at the end of How to Train your Dragon and tried to blame it on hay fever.
Him learning to read my moods through the bond, knowing exactly when I needed space, and when I needed him to hold me until the restless energy settled. Never making me feel broken or too much.
The way he’d started leaving his poetry books around his flat, acting casual when I picked them up.
Pretending he didn’t notice when I dog-eared my favourite pages.
That time he’d randomly caught my waist in the corridor, whispering in my ear, “I have loved none but you,” and I pretended I knew what it was from.
Three months of him defending me in meetings at Killigrew Street, backing me up even when I’d been slightly impulsive or reckless. Making me feel like I had someone properly in my corner for the first time in years.
All those nights talking until dawn, sharing pieces of ourselves we’d never given anyone else. The careful way he’d told me about his father, how he hoped he was making him proud. How he’d held my hand when I’d finally managed to explain about the worst bits of growing up with mine.
My chest felt hollow, like someone had scooped out everything good and left me empty. Hot tears prickled my eyelids—
“Rory, Christ, open your eyes. I’m not breaking up with you!” Teddy practically shouted. I opened my eyes to see deep concern etched across his face.
“Then what’s going on?!”
Teddy’s hand disappeared into his jacket pocket, fingers fumbling with something.
“I was going to do this later, but then I couldn’t wait.”
He pulled out a tiny box. Rectangular. Thin.
My brain short-circuited.
Oh. My. God.
A tiny, ridiculous part of me went absolutely mental.
Because I had overheard Teddy’s Ma at Sunday lunch last week, insisting she was going to give Teddy his father’s wedding ring.
“It’s been sitting in my jewellery box for almost two decades, Theodore,” she’d said, whilst I was in the other room.
“Your father would have wanted you to have it. Would have wanted you to use it.”
But this box was rectangular. And thin. Not ring-shaped at all.
Also, that would be completely bonkers, wouldn’t it? Teddy proposing after three months? That was mental. Completely mad.
But what if—
“It’s not a ring,” Teddy said through barely concealed laughter. “And please, if I ever propose to you outside a dingy pub, say no.”
My hands still trembled as I took the box. The velvet was soft under my fingertips, worn smooth. I flicked the lid open.
A silver key gleamed against black silk lining. A house key. A key for a house.
I blinked at it, my brain struggling to catch up.
“I want you to move in with me.”
The words knocked me sideways. I stared at the key, then up at Teddy’s face, then back at the key. The metal caught the late afternoon sun, throwing tiny sparkles of light across my palm.
Move in. With Teddy. To his gorgeously tidy, spacious flat with its dozen houseplants that were somehow all alive and flourishing.
His spotlessly clean kitchen with the spice rack organised A to Z.
His bookshelves arranged by genre and author.
His bathroom where the towels were always folded properly and the toilet roll never ran out.
“But it’s only been three months,” I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
Teddy’s face flickered—was that disappointment? My chest tightened in response.
Three months. I remembered being so desperate to move in with Dev, forcing myself to wait until nine months to ask so it seemed more acceptable. More normal.
“I know,” Teddy said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “But it physically hurts me to be away from you, baby.”
The air punched from my chest. Everything went wobbly—my knees, my vision, the entire bloody world. Dizzy with joy didn’t even begin to cover it. I felt like I might float away if Teddy wasn’t standing right there, anchoring me to the ground.