Chapter 35 ALEX #2
“Baby,” I say, keeping my voice soothing. “I’ve never told anyone about the fire grate. Danny didn’t even know about it. I shared, and now it’s your turn.” He looks at me like I’m fighting dirty, which I am, before he takes a shaking breath and nods.
“Were you and Kevin friends?” He pushes out a small, bitter laugh and looks away from me, shaking his head.
“He was my best friend, actually. Kind of my only real friend ever. We were roommates freshman year and we just clicked, I guess. We were inseparable after that. His parents sucked the same way my parents sucked, so he spent holidays and summers with me in Astoria, and Nana and Boss loved him. It was like having a brother, I think,” he says, grimacing up at the ceiling.
“When Ashley came along, we all spent a ton of time together, and I was fucking ecstatic that they got along so well. I was just too stupid to see what was happening.” He lets out a low, angry laugh.
“They were careful enough that I didn’t catch them, and I’m sure that piece of shit would have kept fucking her behind my back if I hadn’t told him that I was going to propose.
She broke up with me right after that, and I still didn’t see it.
” Theo crosses his arms and shakes his head at his feet.
“I would have beaten the shit out of anyone I’d found Ashley with, but I wouldn’t have gotten angry enough to kill anyone else.
I don’t feel bad about it, honestly, because he fucking deserved it,” he says in a small, hurt voice.
I stare at him, my mind whirring.
“Is that why you don’t have any friends?” He gives me a look I don’t entirely understand.
“I have you,” he says quietly, and a strong wash of pity rolls through me. I have to look away from him so he doesn’t see my expression, so I look down at the photos in my hands. After a moment, I hold up the one of him and his parents, but he doesn’t look at it.
“Can I have two questions?” He groans but gives me a jerking nod. “Why do your parents look sick?” Theo snorts and rolls his eyes.
“Because they’re fucking meth addicts, Alex.” I blink hard, looking back down at the photo. His mom looks so much sicker than his dad. I look back up at him, tense and upset in the doorway.
“You said it was just your dad.” I see a muscle in his jaw twitch, and he shakes his head slowly.
“I never said that.” I stare at him for a second, thinking about everything he’s told me about his parents, and things start clicking into place.
“Is that why you didn’t give your mom the money?” He narrows his eyes and looks up at the ceiling.
“I gave her enough to get her to fuck off, but yeah. She’s got three other kids now, and I knew from experience she wasn’t going to spend anything on them.
I set up trusts for them anyway, structured so the money can only be used for college or a down payment or something like that, so Melissa can’t get to it.
I’m hoping maybe it’ll fix their lives, but I don’t know.
I have a couple of years before the oldest one turns eighteen, and then Melissa will be a fucking headache again, I’m sure.
” I stare at him, shocked. I knew he was closed off, but I had no idea how much he was hiding from me. I have so many questions now.
“Wait, so -”
“You said two fucking questions,” he snaps. He closes his eyes, rubbing his hand over his face. “Sorry, sweetie. I’m not mad at you, I just don’t think about this stuff, ever.” I nod, no longer surprised by that.
“It’s okay. Last question, and it’s easy, I swear,” I say in a soft voice. I look down at the photo of him as a little kid and smile a little, holding up the picture again, pointing at him and the bear.
“Was your childhood nickname Teddy?” His face goes blank instantly as he looks at the photo, and he shakes his head slowly.
“No, I didn’t have one. Pretty much everyone except my grandparents called me Ted.”
“What did they call you?” Theo glances at me, and I see his jaw clenching.
“Nana always called me Theo, and Boss just called me son,” he says through his teeth.
He closes his eyes and sighs as he turns away from me, his body rigid and his voice tense.
“I’m going to be in the kitchen. Please leave me alone for a little bit,” he says as he walks back upstairs. I stare after him, still stunned.
I pack the photos away and put them back in the closet and curl up the guest bed, looking out the window, thinking. It’s dark outside, so I mostly see myself reflected back in the window.
I can see on my mirrored face that things have just gotten a lot more complicated for me.
I unpack our bags, noticing Theo packed his college sweater in my bag even though I never wear it anymore.
I’m in so deep that I don’t know which way is up, so I change into soft leggings and put on the goddamn sweater and head upstairs.
It’s been almost two hours, which is probably long enough.
The fireplace is going, and the dining room table is set, including a wine glass for me, and Theo is in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and staring at the oven, drinking whiskey straight from a half-empty bottle.
I go into the kitchen, watching him warily. Aside from being a little red around the eyes, he doesn’t seem drunk at all. He lets me gently slip the bottle out of his hands but just keeps staring at the oven, his face blank.
I look over and see that he’s watching a chicken roast, the timer on the oven showing another fifteen minutes. I pour him a glass of water, and he sips it slowly, still not looking at me. I stare at him, but I have no idea what to do, so I put my arms around his waist and hold him tightly.
If he can share, I can share.
“If you think I’ve got a problem with my drinking, you should have met my mother,” I say, resting my head on his chest. “She was the worst when she was drunk, super mean and critical, and she drank a lot. My dad was controlling and really passive-aggressive, so between the two of them, I couldn’t do anything right, no matter how hard I tried.
” Theo doesn’t respond, but he wraps his arms around my shoulders and holds me tightly, his thumbs tracing slow circles on my skin.
“I tried so hard,” I whisper, and he pulls me closer and kisses my forehead before he rests his cheek on the top of my head.
We stay like that until the chicken is done.
Theo says nothing, makes me a plate, cups my face in his hands and kisses me softly, and goes to bed.
I drink a large glass of wine, put the untouched plate in the refrigerator, and go downstairs shortly after. When I crawl into bed, Theo’s already asleep, so I wrap my arm around his waist and tuck my other arm underneath his pillow, curling around his back.
I try to ignore how I feel when he relaxes back into me, how I feel as my hand finds his under the pillow, how I feel as I twine my fingers through his and press a kiss to his shoulder, but I can’t.
There are no lines between us anymore. Everything’s blurred together into a huge mess.