Chapter 34 #2
Not just the banter with Theo, though that was admittedly incredible, but the whole package—Debbie chattering about her day while she colored, Theo moving around the kitchen with quiet efficiency, the three of us settling into an easy rhythm that felt like something we’d been doing for years instead of weeks or months.
Some nights I’d stay for a movie, wedged between them on the couch while Debbie provided running commentary on whatever film she’d selected. Other nights, we’d play board games that inevitably devolved into chaos when Debbie decided the rules needed modification to better accommodate dragons.
“You can’t just add dragons to Monopoly,” Theo protested one evening after Debbie announced that Baltic Avenue was now a dragon sanctuary.
“Why not? Dragons need places to live, too,” she replied with the unassailable logic of a five-year-old, before placing a miniature plastic dragon where tiny houses or hotels belonged.
“She has a point,” I said, earning a grateful smile from Debbie and an exasperated look from Theo.
“Don’t encourage her. Last week she tried to convince me that dragons were a legitimate school supply.”
“For art class!” Debbie crossed her arms and pooched out her lip. “Mrs. Martinez said we could draw anything we wanted.”
Watching them together—the easy affection, the playful arguments, the way Theo’s entire face softened whenever Debbie laughed—left me speechless. Breathless. Utterly and completely incapable of reason, not that I was ever that good at reasoning. Still . . .
Was this what I’d been missing my entire life without even knowing it?
This wasn’t just romance, though what I felt for Theo was definitely that and more.
But this sense of belonging, of being part of something bigger than myself, of mattering to people who mattered to me—was this what every parent felt, whatever man or woman who loved from the depth of their souls felt?
One evening, about a month into our routine, Mrs. Chen surprised me.
“I think I can handle Cuddles on my own now,” she said as I was getting ready to leave.
I froze mid-motion, my jacket halfway on. “Are you sure? I don’t mind—”
“I know you don’t mind. That’s why I’m sure.” She smiled, and there was something knowing in her expression that made me suddenly self-conscious. “You’ve taken better care of both of us than we had any right to expect, but I’m feeling strong enough now to handle one spoiled golden retriever.”
I looked down at Cuddles, who was sprawled across my feet like a furry anchor. “But what about her morning walks? And the evening feeding? You said the doctor wanted you taking it easy—”
“Jeremiah.” Mrs. Chen’s voice was gentle but firm. “I’m fine. More than fine, thanks to you, but I think we both know you’re not coming over here for the dog and her old woman anymore.”
Heat flooded my face. “I don’t . . . Mrs. Chen . . . what do you mean?”
“Fine. Play dumb. You’re good at that.” She chuckled. “Go on, get out of here. Go tell that librarian of yours how you feel before I have to come over there and do it for you.”
I bent down to give Cuddles one last scratch behind the ears, earning myself a gentle nip on the wrist that I’d learned to interpret as affection.
“You be good for your mom,” I told her.
She wagged her tail and promptly stole my jacket from where I’d set it on the chair.
“Cuddles, drop it,” Mrs. Chen commanded.
The dog looked between us for a moment, clearly calculating her options, then reluctantly released my jacket and trotted over to her bed with the air of someone who’d surrendered while still successfully making her point.
“She’s going to miss you,” Mrs. Chen said.
“I’ll still visit,” I said quickly. “I mean, if that’s okay. I could bring dinner sometimes, or help with yard work, or—”
“Jeremiah.” She placed a weathered hand on my arm. “You’ll always be welcome here. Both of you will. All three of you, when you’re ready.”
I hugged her goodbye—mindful of her still-healing body—and walked across the street with my heart hammering against my ribs.
Mrs. Chen was right.
I wasn’t visiting for the dog anymore.
I was visiting because somewhere along the way, Theo and Debbie had become my home, and I couldn’t imagine a day without seeing them, without being part of whatever this thing was that we’d built together.
These visits had become my excuse, my rationalization for spending more time with them than was probably reasonable.
We were nearing our two-month mark. It was ridiculous for anyone to spend every night together so early in a relationship.
Wasn’t it?
Shit. Relationship? Had I just thought that?
As I reached Theo’s front door, I heard the familiar sounds of their evening routine—the television playing softly, Debbie’s voice asking a thousand questions, Theo’s patient answers and gentle laughter.
I knocked.
Why the hell did I knock?
I hadn’t knocked since our first few days together. Theo had even shown me where the spare key was so I never had to stand outside, even when I was meeting them there and they weren’t home yet.
What was I doing?
Within seconds, the door swung open to reveal Debbie in her pajamas, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth.
“Willie Wee!” she said around the toothbrush, which made the words come out as something closer to “Wizzie Woo.”
“Hey there, princess. Finish brushing your teeth. Get those back ones good for me, okay?”
She hated brushing her teeth. I had to constantly remind her to brush long enough to get them good and clean.
She disappeared toward the bathroom, and Theo appeared a moment later, looking slightly frazzled and completely beautiful in his rumpled cardigan.
“How did it go with Mrs. Chen?” he asked, stepping aside to let me in.
“She fired me,” I said, and was surprised to hear how lost I sounded.
Theo’s expression shifted from casual interest to concern. “Fired you?”
“She said she doesn’t need help anymore, which is good. She’s feeling better, but . . .” I trailed off, suddenly uncertain how to explain what I was feeling.
“But?” Theo prompted gently as he guided me toward the couch.
I struggled to meet his gaze, mumbling my next words toward folded hands. “But now I don’t have an excuse to come over every night.”
The words hung in the air between us.
Theo’s eyes widened slightly, and I realized what I’d just admitted.
“Do you need an excuse?” he asked quietly.
My eyes shot upward, and I looked at him—really looked at him—at the way his hair stuck up despite his obvious attempts to tame it, at the soft brown eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, at the mouth that smiled so easily and kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world.
“No,” I said, taking his hands in mine. “I guess . . . I don’t need an excuse. I just need you.”
His smile started small and spread across his entire face like sunrise painting the sky with every beautiful color that had ever existed or would ever shine in the heavens.
“Good,” he said, reaching up to cup my cheek. “Because we need you, too. Both of us.”
From the bathroom came the sound of running water and Debbie’s voice calling out, “Are you kissing again? I want to see!”
We both laughed, and I leaned forward to press my forehead against his.
“I know it’s too soon and I shouldn’t say anything so crazy or silly or deep, especially because I’m not very deep most of the time and we’ve only known each other a couple of months and you have a life and a daughter and—”
“I love you,” he cut me off.
And turned my whole being to ice and fire and warmth and light and—
“I think I loved you that first day. It just took a little time to realize it.”
My mouth opened.
Then closed.
Then opened again.
I had to blink a few times because there were two of him . . . and they were getting blurry.
“Theo . . .”
He cupped my cheek. It was the simplest, most tender touch.
I blinked a few more times.
Harder.
Fighting.
Losing.
“You’re crying,” he whispered. “And you haven’t said anything.”
The living room spun around me. I knew I was breathing, but it felt like air wouldn’t enter my lungs, like my mind wouldn’t work or think or whatever it did when faced with life-altering moments.
Theo loved me.
“Oh, God,” I said. “I have to pee.”
Without another word, I bolted from the couch and ran down the hallway through the bedroom and into the master bath, where I slammed the door and planted myself on the throne without lifting the lid, covering my face in my hands.
Was this what happiness felt like?
Was this how I could feel . . . forever?
Had he really just said . . . ?
Oh, shit. I just ran away after he said that. Is he thinking I don’t feel the same? Am I the stupidest man on the planet? Jesus.
“Jer?” A light tapping on the door told me I was no longer alone.
“I love you, too, Theo,” I said from the toilet through the door in the least romantic declaration possible, though my heart felt roses and I heard harps while I said the words.
The doorknob turned, and Theo appeared.
He was still smiling.
The sky was still painted with brilliant hues.
And then he was on his knees before me, cradling my face in his hands, pressing his lips to mine with the fervor of a million saints.
“Really?” he asked, pulling back after the longest, most amazing moment ever.
“Oh, God, Theo, yes. I love you, and I love her, and I love this—whatever this is that we have. I don’t want excuses anymore. I just want to be here. With you. With both of you.”
He kissed me again, soft and sweet and full of promise.
“I love you, too,” he whispered against my lips. “God, I love you so much.”
“Ew, kissing!” Debbie announced, appearing behind Theo with her toothbrush properly put away and her hair sticking up in approximately seventeen different directions. “But also yay, because now Willie Wee can help me with my dragon drawings every day!”
Theo and I looked at each.
“Maybe not every day, Button,” Theo said carefully.
“Why not? He’s here every day anyway, and Mrs. Chen said he doesn’t need to take care of Cuddles anymore. I heard you talking, Daddy. Now he can take care of us instead.”
The casual, matter-of-fact way she said it—like I already belonged there, like it was just a matter of logistics—made my chest swell.
And another tear fell.