Chapter 10 #2
Theo inhales deeply through his nose. “More or less. I don’t know that I’d say we were arguing, but it started heading that way and I just …
I froze. Again, it doesn’t excuse my actions.
I just wanted you to understand that it’s, well, it’s more complicated than typical manager-actor relationships. ”
An echo of Sage’s vehemence comes to her mind. You do realize your manager works for you, right? Don’t pretend like you don’t hold the power here. I’m not a fool.
Well, she certainly is one now.
Sage’s mouth makes several false starts as she tries to sort through her mess of thoughts. She has so many questions. She finally lands on the one that perhaps would have solved this all before it started.
“Why didn’t you just tell me this when we were arguing in the greenroom?”
Theo’s knee bounces a nervous rhythm as he looks up at the ceiling.
“It certainly would have been easier, wouldn’t it?
I wish I had a rational reason. It’s just …
it’s a lot to lay on someone? Especially in the heat of the moment.
” He looks as though he’s testing the words as he speaks them.
He wets his lips. “It’s … complicated enough to figure out my own feelings on the matter.
I don’t enjoy talking about it. Not when …
” He clears the gravel from his throat. “Not when there’s so much grief involved. ”
His fingers twist together in his lap, his shoulders hunched where he’s slumped against the corner of the couch, and as his eyes meet hers, Sage realizes something.
For the short time she’s know him, Theo has always been polished, even with his haphazard disguise that day in the greenroom. It’s in the way he holds himself. Shoulders back, chin level, gaze piercing. But now …
Now he looks completely unsure of himself, like a single word could shatter that polished mask so thoroughly he might not be able to put it on again.
“I can understand that,” she says softly.
Gratitude washes over Theo’s face, but he presses on quickly.
“All of that aside, it also tends to bring up nepotism.” The corner of his mouth twists down, even as his eyes widen earnestly.
“Which is completely fair, of course, and I could rant passionately about my disgust with it and how I try to carve my own way. But sometimes, it’s just easier when people don’t know. They can’t make assumptions.”
But she did. She made a lot of assumptions, flung a lot of accusations.
Sage isn’t perfect by any means. She can’t always get a read on people. But she doesn’t think she’s ever been this wrong before.
“I know something about wanting to prove your worth,” she admits. Perhaps if she had shared that earlier, he wouldn’t have felt the need to keep this from her.
Then again … why would Theo have confided in her? She was just some person he’d met and spent some time with. Their … whatever it was … didn’t equate to this level of vulnerability.
“I’m sorry if I caused more trouble between the two of you,” she says, toying with a loose thread on the cuff of her sleeve. She knows she shouldn’t feel responsible, because she hadn’t known, but rocks of guilt plunk into the pit of her stomach anyway.
“Christ, Sage, you have nothing to apologize for.” The vehemence in his voice draws her away from her thoughts.
She looks up to see Theo frowning at her, his eyes bright as he shakes his head.
“I told you to give you context, not because I blame you in any way. I should have posted as soon as the first pictures leaked. I apologize that it took me so long to get my head out of my arse.”
She feels the tension in her shoulders loosen slightly. His assurance eases her guilt, but there’s still a heaviness that sits on her chest that makes her smile feel forced as she says, “At least he finally got on board.”
“Er,” he laughs awkwardly as he rubs the back of his neck, a complicated array of emotions flashing across his face. “He didn’t. That wasn’t an approved statement.”
For a moment, the only thing Sage can think to say is a quiet, “Oh.” She shifts slightly in her seat. “Um. What changed? Why suddenly go against what he was advising?”
Theo chuckles, the sound tense as he massages his hands.
“I figured … posting it was the least that I owed you.” Pink dusts over his cheeks and down his neck as he admits, “I wrote it that night you texted me—the day before the party? I shouldn’t have held on to it for so long, but, I meant what I said in the greenroom.
I had other reasons aside from my father.
We’d had that night at the club and I guess I might have, I don’t know, started thinking that maybe it was better to hold off … ”
Sage’s heart stumbles as she realizes exactly what he’s implying.
Theo looks up at the vaulted ceiling again, as if the words he’s searching for are written on the exposed wooden beams. “It was selfish. And then the photos leaked, and we were arguing, and I couldn’t believe that you didn’t see what I thought was so obvious, so …
I kissed you. I understood it was a mistake as soon as those panelists barged in and you looked like you wanted to flee. ”
Sage frowns, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as she tries to formulate a coherent sentence. “You’re technically the one who fled” is what she lands on.
He laughs, but it sort of sounds like a groan as he hangs his head.
“You still are bloody impossible, do you know that? Of course I fled. Christ, Sage, you had just shoved me off of you, and I was rapidly realizing how presumptuous and rash I had been. I knew how much you loathed the consequences of just rumors about us dating. It’s not like you would ever entertain the actual idea of being with me.
And that’s not to mention the fact that I live in London and you’re in LA.
And yet I kissed you anyway. I issued that statement because it was the only way to help, and after all of that, it was the least of what I owed you after the mess I had made. ”
“Oh.”
It seems her vocabulary has been reduced to an elementary level, because this isn’t at all what she expected him to say. Theo looks at her, but she can’t hold his gaze and try to fit these pieces together, try to reconcile what she’s been telling herself for weeks and what Theo is telling her now.
She watches the rain as it drips down the windows, her fingers endlessly toying with the sweatshirt cuffs. Theo lets the silence grow between them, as if he knows that if he lets it linger, Sage will finally speak.
And she will. Not just because Sage has rarely met a silence she hasn’t broken, but because she can already feel the words bubbling up in her throat.
She releases the cuffs of the sweatshirt only to curl her fingers around the edge of the couch cushion. “I was startled,” she admits. “When they walked in. It wasn’t that … I kissed you back.”
He shifts closer, but he doesn’t touch her.
“I know. I was a coward. I also think a part of me knew I had already buggered this up quite thoroughly, and I wasn’t quite sure how to fix it.”
“Telling me I was a mistake was definitely the answer,” she deadpans, the fight draining from her body, leaving something far more fragile behind.
“I didn’t say you were a mistake. I said it was a mistake,” he insists.
“And saying so was a selfish act of self-preservation.” A muscle in his jaw flickers as his gaze darts down to his hands before finding her eyes again.
“I’m not … I’m not always great at facing things head-on.
It’s a terrible quality. And one I’m working on. ”
She doesn’t know what to say to that, so instead, she makes another confession of her own. “I thought you lived in LA.”
He must know already with the way she’d asked why he wasn’t there when they ran into each other in the pub. But there’s a small furrow to his brow as he asks, “Would that have changed anything for you?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? You don’t.”
And perhaps that’s what it really boils down to—no matter what, they would have ended up here: five thousand miles apart, wanting different things.
He glances back down at his hands. “Suppose it doesn’t.” He takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the movement. “For whatever it’s worth, I truly am sorry.”
“For whatever it’s worth, so am I. I shouldn’t have said those things to you in the greenroom.”
“I deserved it,” he reassures her.
“No. You didn’t.”
For a long moment, they simply sit there, eyes locked. She can feel something building in the space between them, but it’s shattered by a rumble of thunder that has Theo glancing toward the windows before checking his watch. “I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten.”
Sage rocks to her feet. She knows a dismissal when she hears one.
“Do you want me to drive you back?” he asks as she makes her way to the mudroom. “You can get your car in the morning.”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks, though.”
She tugs on her boots, Theo watching in her periphery, and it’s a moment longer before he stands, one hand dragging through the back of his hair as he considers his words.
“I realize this is quite presumptuous of me, all things considered,” he finally says, “but … well, I’ll be here for the next few weeks. If you need a tour guide or anything …”
Sage nearly stumbles as she straightens in surprise. “Um …”
“Of course, I completely understand if you’d rather never see me again,” Theo rushes on quickly.
“I don’t—”
“I did tell you I’d get it if you never wanted to speak to me—”
“Theo—”
“I apologize, I shouldn’t have—”
“Oh my god, shut up.”
Theo’s rambling immediately ceases. He looks a little like she’s slapped him, with his wide eyes and parted lips. But then he laughs, and it’s loud and boisterous and …
Theo smiles, and something inside of her burns.
“Sorry,” he chuckles. “It’s just … I don’t think anyone has told me to shut up like that since I was a kid.”
“Well, maybe they should,” she retorts, but her own grin is impossible to hide. He’s looking at her entirely too fondly, so she busies herself with grabbing her jacket as he walks to the mudroom.
“What I was going to say is that I really need to write while I’m here,” she says carefully.
“Ah,” Theo replies, crossing his arms as he leans against the wooden frame of the entryway. “Right. The writer’s getaway. And how is the highly anticipated sequel coming?”
The question is light, innocent even, and though she tries, she can’t hide the way her shoulders tense. Theo frowns at the movement. “That bad?”
“I fell asleep today working on it.” He winces.
“Exactly.” She blows out a hard breath, sending the strands of hair that frame her face fluttering.
“I can’t get anything worthwhile down on the page.
I thought I knew how I wanted the story to go.
But now … I don’t know. It’s a disaster. I feel like I’m going to scream.”
“Mm. What’s that quote from that movie about Van Gogh?” His brow furrows as he tries to recall it. “‘There’s a lot of destruction and failure at the door of a successful picture.’”
He looks at Sage expectantly, but she just stares back. “At Eternity’s Gate,” he says, as if that’s supposed to ring a bell.
“Never seen it,” she confesses.
“Seriously?” Theo gapes at her. “It’s a beautiful and heart-wrenching depiction of artistry.” At her blank stare, he shakes his head. “We really need to work on your exposure to decent film.”
“Many have tried and failed. Just ask Emerson.”
He shrugs. “Maybe you’d find it inspiring.”
“This trip was supposed to inspire me,” she grumbles.
“How long have you been here?”
“Just over a week.”
“And how much time have you actually spent away from your computer?”
“Excuse you.” She shoots him an affronted glare. “Plenty.”
Theo fixes her with a look that says he knows she’s lying, and it’s far too familiar, so she goes to tug off his Cambridge sweatshirt instead of thinking about how he seems to get her, and how much she liked that in New York.
“Keep it,” he urges with a shake of his head. “It’s even colder out there now, and your jacket is hardly suitable.”
She wants to argue on behalf of her thin raincoat, but he’s right. So instead she says, “How else will people know you went to a fancy school?”
Theo rolls his eyes. “You can give it back the next time I see you. I’m sure we’ll be running into each other. It’s not as though Portree is a particularly large town.”
He’s being just shy of coy, but she lets it slide, just as she lets him walk her to the door. Before she heads out into the never-ending downpour, he says, “I’ll … I’ll see you around. Drive safe, all right?”
She tugs up her hood and darts into the rain, spinning on her heel to walk backward toward Hank. “I’m always safe!” she calls out before promptly stumbling over a piece of gravel.
She can just make out Theo shaking with laughter. She can’t hear it over the rain, but the way his head tilts back and his smile stretches wide warms something in her anyway, wrapping around her snugly like the scent that lingers in the fabric of his sweatshirt.