Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
BLAKE
It’s been a week since our near kiss, and I can’t get Theo off my mind.
I hate him, I don’t hate him. I honestly don’t trust my feelings where he’s concerned anymore.
He left me. He walked away without a care in the world after professing his love to me.
He told me that we’d be together forever, that I was stuck with him, but as always where men are concerned, they were just that—words. And I fell for it.
I’ve never been more confused than I am around him. He’s cold and hard one minute; then an epiphany hits him, and he’s suddenly changed his mind? I just don’t understand. I guess I should be thankful… right?
It’s just hard to stop the old feelings from flooding back in when he’s acting so much like the Theo of old…
my Theo. I was at a particularly vulnerable time in my life when he came along.
I was fragile, but he acted as a beacon in the shadows, pulling me back from the edge.
What followed was the night that broke me and saved me all at once.
“Mom,” my nine-year-old son, Oscar, calls from his bedroom, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I’d been so lost in my head that I hadn’t realized I’d finished washing the dishes, and my hands were soaking in the water. Wiping them on the dishcloth, I shout, “Yeah, baby?”
“Where’s my jacket? I can’t find it.”
“On the back of your bedroom door, where it usually hangs.” I laugh, taking his lunch box from the fridge and placing it in his bag. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”
Grabbing my bag and coat from the peg, I wait at the door for him.
He finally comes bounding around the corner, jacket half on and toothpaste spilled down his top.
Chuckling at the state of my poor child, I take a packet of wipes from the side and start cleaning him up while he straightens his jacket.
“Have you got everything?” I ask when I’m finally done, throwing the used wipes in the trash.
“I think so?” he replies, his face scrunched. “Yeah, I have.”
“Don’t forget, I’m working late again tonight, but I promise I’ll make it up to you this weekend.”
The feeling of being the world’s worst mother is never far from my mind. Getting pregnant at eighteen was never something I’d planned, but there was no way I was giving my baby up, even if it meant sacrificing everything.
“I know, Mom.” His cute little button nose wrinkles. “I’m supposed to be watching the new Marvel film with Mrs. Mitchell tonight. She even said I can dress up as the Hulk.” His face lights up with excitement, and in that moment, he looks so much like his dad that it makes my chest hurt.
I smile down at my son, my heart full to bursting, knowing that he’s my whole world. That I’d never regret anything because it meant I got him.
Ruffling his hair, I laugh. “Okay, bud. Sounds good. Come on, I need to drop you off, or I’ll be late for work.”
“Can’t I come in to work with you today?” he whines, tugging at his sleeves. “I found a guy in your office the other day who had the coolest Transformers collection.”
My heart drops to my stomach, bile rising and my ears ringing. I swallow around the large lump formed in my throat because there’s only one guy with a Transformers collection in his office. “What guy?” I ask, like I don’t already know the answer.
“Theo? He seemed really cool. He sat and talked with me for a bit. Said I could go back and see him anytime.”
Keep it together, Blake. Nobody knows. Your secret is still safe. Breathe.
“Erm, yeah. I work with Theo. Maybe don’t go into his office again though, hmm? He’s a busy man and doesn’t need you distracting him.” I laugh, trying to brush it off.
Mrs. Mitchell was unwell the day I had to take Oscar to work.
She’d eaten some rotten fish and was laid up in bed, unable to move.
We’d dropped off a care package to her and gone into work.
It wasn’t ideal, but I had no other option.
With Frank breathing down my neck about my conduct in the office, I couldn’t call in sick.
No one knows I have a child, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. I don’t want looks of pity or judgment.
“It’s not long before you start school again, and then you won’t have to spend all day with her.” I ruffle his hair again, and he bats my hand away.
“Mooooom,” he whines. “Leave. The. Do. Alone.”
“Alright, Ace Ventura.” I chuckle and usher him out the door.
I never told his dad about Oscar. He was long gone by the time I found out I was pregnant, and I could never find him. But in all honesty, I didn’t try very hard. A man who suddenly leaves without a trace is clearly someone who doesn’t want to be found.
Do Oscar and his dad have the right to a relationship?
Absolutely. I’m just scared about what it could mean for all of us.
How it will affect Oscar, how it will affect me, and ultimately, how it will affect his dad.
I wouldn’t even know how to start broaching the subject.
“Oh, hey. So, uh, you have a kid you didn’t know about.
” Yeah, that would go down like a lead balloon.
Oscar’s asked about his dad before, but I never knew what to say, so I told him he was overseas—not original, but I froze in the moment—and that he would hopefully get to meet him one day.
It’s just that day came sooner than I thought, and neither one of them knew it.
Theo walks into the conference room, looking as devastatingly handsome as always, and I have to squeeze my thighs together to stop the ache from forming. The sleeves on his shirt are rolled up, showcasing new tattoos I’ve never seen before. I’m intrigued, to say the least. How far up do those go?
Ignoring those thoughts, I say, “If you’re here to play your pranks, you can do it somewhere else. I’m busy.”
After the impromptu near kiss the other day, I’ve tried drawing a line between us again. For one, I don’t want him to find out about the secret I’m keeping from him, and two, this man is dangerous to my heart and soul. I won’t survive him leaving a second time; I barely managed the first.
“We still going to Habitat tonight?” he asks from across the room where he’s leaning against the doorway.
This is such a bad idea, but it’s for the case. It’s to help Harper and put a man behind bars.
I sigh, rubbing my eyes. “Yeah. I brought my clothes, so I can change here before we leave.”
I’m dreading it. I’m so tired already that the thought of going out on a school night fills me with dread. I’m too old for this shit now, even if I am only twenty-eight.
He taps the doorframe, replying, “Good, I, uh, just wanted to check.”
I raise my head to look at him. “You’re being more weird than usual,” I point out, leaning back in my chair. “What’s wrong?”
Theo shuffles, then walks further into the room. It’s like all of the oxygen is taken away the closer he gets to me. My hands go clammy, and I forget the reasons as to why I dislike him.
Pulling the chair out opposite me, he sits down and braces his elbows on the table. “I need to talk to Christie,” he mumbles.
“I’m failing to see an issue here, big guy. She’s your sister.” I raise an eyebrow, but he’s not looking at me, his gaze still firmly on the table.
He blows out a breath, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “My therapist thinks it would be a good idea to talk to her. Apparently, I have a lot of resentment toward her, and I need to fix it.”
I nod slowly. “But that’s a good thing, right? I thought you two were always close?”
“Things went downhill after Dan’s bachelor party. She hasn’t spoken to me since.”
“I can’t imagine why,” I tease, smiling.
“Hmm.” He chuckles.
“I’m sure if you just explain everything to her, it’ll be fine. You’re Theodore Moore, everyone loves you.”
He narrows his eyes as he says, “Do they?”
This is the Theo I first fell in love with. He’s always been needy, but I loved it. Loved having his undivided attention, his hugs, and his kisses. For someone who grew up without them after my parents died, he gave me something I hadn’t known I was missing.
“Well, I can’t stand you personally. You did up and leave me without a trace,” I joke, but there’s still an undercurrent of resentment to my tone.
“Yeah, about that,” he begins. “I think we should talk.”
My back straightens. “What now?” I whine. Nothing good ever comes from someone saying, “we should talk.”
Theo pushes a hand through his hair, sighing. “I don’t want to talk about it here. I’ll meet you downstairs at six. We’ll go back to mine and talk before heading to Habitat.”
I feel sick to my stomach. He can’t know. There's no way he could know. Every worst-case scenario slams into me as I try to keep my face from showing my fear. “Sure,” I eventually manage to say. “See you at six.”
He nods, then stands up and straightens his shirt. “I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on. I’ll see you later.”
“Uh huh,” I agree as I watch him leave.
I’m fucked.