22. Teddy #2
Nope—I pushed her away first. I broke her heart first. So many times, so many chances that I stomped on. Indie saved herself and followed my lead.
“Admitting that is an important step,” Dr. Meyer told me at the end of our first session.
“It’s why men will stay in relationships they’ve checked out of emotionally, because they don’t want to look like the bad guy.
They want to tell everyone, ‘See, she left me, I’m the injured party here!
’ You’re taking responsibility, Theo. That’s important. ”
“Why doesn't it feel important?” I asked her, my voice choking. “Why doesn’t it feel like I’m doing anything?”
“You are,” she assured me. “Doing this—healing yourself—will do a lot more than groveling on your knees.”
Admittedly, I’m half tempted to drop to them now that I’m in front of Indie. I would if it meant anything to her. I would drop to this pub floor like a groveling idiot, begging and pleading for a second chance.
But Dr. Meyer says that’s not the way to heal a relationship. It needs to be mutual; the other party needs to want to heal the relationship.
But first and foremost, I need to heal myself.
Another loud roaring cheer goes up as someone scores another goal, and Indie sighs, leaning down to whisper something in Petra’s ear. The dark-haired woman nods before smirking again and pressing a lingering kiss to Indie’s cheek.
“Don’t take too long.”
It’s like acid in my mouth as Indie laughs softly before walking right out the door, not waiting for me to follow. But like I’m on a leash, tethered to Indie, I do. I always will. Even if she’s not mine, I’m hers.
Indie leads us to an area outside the pub for privacy, but not in a way that blocks people walking down the London street.
When I landed yesterday, it just made me ache that I didn’t experience it with Indie as I should have. Sitting on the plane together, anticipation building between us the closer we got.
Instead, I jumped on the soonest plane I could, sat squished between two other broad men on the nine-hour flight, slept awfully as each of us tried not to take up too much room, and woke up with a giant crick in my neck. I still can’t turn my head to the left completely.
“How did you find me?” Indie asks me.
“Well, I remembered the hotel you booked… for us,” I start, Indie’s jaw tightening with each word. I continue sheepishly, “And then… I received a confirmation email that you had successfully checked in… I guess my email was still linked.”
“Yes, because I was supposed to be here with you,” Indie snaps. I wince, nodding my agreement. “So, you’re just—what, stalking me now? How did you find me here, in this pub?”
My ears are hot as I admit, “I went down to the lobby at seven and just waited until I saw you.”
Indie looks at me skeptically, “You waited all morning?”
I nod.
“I didn’t leave until 4.”
“I know. I waited,” I say easily.
And I would have waited forever, but once I saw her bustling out of the elevators in a hurry, it felt like my heart had restarted. I rushed after her, following her on the fifteen-minute walk to the pub.
“How do you rebuild trust?”
Dr. Meyer shrugged. “How did you build trust with Indie the first time?”
“It was slow. Over time. Telling her things I’ve never told anyone.”
Dr. Meyer nodded encouragingly. “So you built trust with…”
“Honesty. Patience. Vulnerability.”
“There’s your answer.”
So, I am completely honest.
“And I followed you here.”
“Un-fucking-believable,” she mutters, shaking her head.
“Indie, I’m not here to ruin anything—”
Indie cuts me off, hissing through gritted teeth.
“What part of goodbye do you not understand? Or did the pictures and drawings—” her voice breaks on the last word, a flicker of pain and grief flashing over her face, like getting rid of them truly hurt her. It feels like knives. She takes a breath and clears her throat, “—could I be any clearer?”
“I know. I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to… shit,” I take a deep breath and reach under my shirt, pulling out the chain and unlinking it.
I feel Indie’s eyes on me as I take the thicker gold object off the chain, being careful with the smaller one as I link it and place it back under my shirt. I take the envelope out of my pocket and hold both out for Indie.
“Nana left you these.”
Indie eyes them, confused. “What is this?”
“It’s my Pop’s wedding band,” I hold up the precious gold object. Her eyes widen almost comically, but she reaches out with a shaky hand and holds her palm flat.
Gently, I place it there, and I’m a fucking glutton for punishment because my fingers brush so lightly against her soft skin, and it feels like an electric current running through my body. My heart thrums—Indie, Indie, Indie.
The proximity, smelling her sweet scent, looking at her gorgeous face, hits me at once, and I feel dizzy.
Indie places the ring on her right thumb, and for some reason, seeing my Pop’s cherished wedding band on the love of my life hits me hard. Nana must have gotten it cleaned before she placed it in the deposit box for Indie because it’s gleaming and bright, despite being fifty years old.
“Why would she leave me this?” she whispers, eyes shimmering.
“Because it was precious to her,” I tell her softly, and her eyes meet mine and feel like a punch. “And so were you.”
Her face collapses, and she gently touches the gold with her other hand. My hand reaches up to press against the chain under my shirt, the matching object that hangs from it right over my heart.
“She wanted me to have this?”
I nod, handing her the manila envelope that she takes after a moment of hesitation.
“She wrote you a letter, too. And there’s some paperwork in there of what else she left you.”
Indie looks overwhelmed, squeezing her eyes shut and breathing deeply. I ache to pull her into my arms, pressing around her like she used to ask me to do when she became overstimulated. Sometimes she needed compression, and she said my scent, my warmth, was better than anything.
“You could have just called—” she cuts herself off, and I flinch slightly. She blocked my number. “You could have told the lawyer to call me.”
“I needed to deliver that in person,” I nod toward the ring on her thumb, “Nana wanted me to personally give it to you.”
Her mouth quirks up at the mention of Nana. She lifts her hand and presses the ring on her thumb to her mouth, “Yeah, I wouldn’t trust something like this in the mail.”
“The lawyer's card is in the envelope. You’ll just need to call him to get everything set up for you.”
She nods, looking everywhere but me. “And you’re staying in Europe?”
I shift from foot to foot, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans so I don’t reach out and do something stupid like pull her into my arms.
“Yeah, I… figured since I’m here…”
Her eyes snap to mine.
“This better not be some elaborate plan to try to win me back, Teddy. That ship has sailed.”
Panic swells inside of me, but I clamp it down. Hard. It’s not about me.
“It’s not! I mean, I don’t—” I drag a hand over my face. “God, no, that sounds wrong. Of course, I want you back. I want you so bad it hurts. But I’m not here to corner you into anything. I’m not here to beg for forgiveness I haven’t earned.”
She doesn’t say anything, just watches me.
Honesty. Patience. Vulnerability.
“I… I wouldn’t wish me on anyone right now, Indie,” I tell her honestly.
She frowns, though doesn’t look angry, just confused and guarded.
“I love you,” I tell her, because I want to be honest with her in every aspect from now on. “I love you so much, I can barely breathe. I’ve never loved any woman like you, and I never will. But the way I’ve been loving you is wrong.”
Her mouth presses into a firm line, but her eyes shimmer once more.
“Because I wasn’t loving you the way you deserve,” I say, my voice cracking in half.
“The way I showed you my love was worthless—no, more than that. It was damaging. I thought I was doing everything right because I was saying the pretty words, but not actually showing you. You got hurt and I… I failed you. So many times.”