Chapter 37
Theo
I’ve just stopped pacing and sat down on the couch beside Hunter when there’s a soft knock at the door. My heart jumps into my throat. The entire afternoon and evening have been just like this. Me pacing. Me panicking. Hunter trying to calm me.
Squeezing Hunter’s hand, I whip my head to the door. My heartbeat is echoing so loudly in my ears that it’s making the knocking distorted and strange.
Hunter pulls on my hand, and I look at him. His lips are moving, his brows drawn in clear concern. He’s trying to pull away from me, and that makes sense. One of us has to open the door, but I’m not sure it can be me.
“Let me get the door, sweetheart,” he says, his words audible to me now.
I drop his hand with a nod. “Okay.”
My voice is croaky and rough, and when Hunter stands, leaving me alone on the couch, my stomach tumbles.
The door opens, its creaking as familiar to me as my own name by now, and a voice—two voices—I thought I’d never hear again carries into the living room.
“Hi, I’m Elaine.” Mom sounds breathless and weak and hopeful and terrified.
“Hunter Lock.”
“Calvin,” my dad says, and my stomach lurches.
I press my hands to my thighs, trying to stay calm, trying to regulate my breathing.
It’s going to be okay. They drove all this way. They’re happy you’re alive. They want to be here.
“Come on in. Theo’s in the living room.”
Three sets of footsteps echo through the entryway, and I push to my feet, my nervous energy begging me to run. To hide.
But even if I could, I wouldn’t know where to go. I’ve been running from this—from them—for over a decade. Longer than I should have. Longer than I wanted to.
I hold my breath as they step through the doorway. Hunter’s leading the charge, but when they’re all three in the living room, he steps back.
They’re older. Of course they are. And God knows I am.
But I guess I didn’t think about it. I didn’t consider that my dad’s once-rich chocolate brown hair would be tinged with gray at his temples.
That his beard would be more salt than pepper.
I never considered that my mom wouldn’t have the bright face of youth but, instead, delicate crow’s feet and smile lines.
They grew older without me.
I missed so much time.
Time I’ll never be able to get back.
My throat convulses as I choke down a sob. I don’t want to break down or lose my shit. I want to be strong. I want them to see that I’m better now. That I’m happy—for the most part, anyway.
My eyes are on fire, my throat tight like someone’s wrapped it in barbed wire.
It seems like forever before someone speaks, or maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s just seconds.
Mom and Dad stare at me, and I stare back at them, and when Mom’s face crumples and she breathes out a near-silent “Oh my baby,” I find myself wrapped in her arms with tears pouring down my face.
She smells the same. Her airy, clean perfume and her cinnamon undertones. She smells like my childhood. Like the world I knew before Damien destroyed it.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
And then I’m being surrounded by Dad’s strong arms, being squeezed between the two of them.
Dad’s chest shudders against my back, and it almost makes me sick to know that he’s upset. He was the most stoic person I knew growing up. I never saw him cry. I never saw him upset. But I know what those shudders mean. They’ve worked their way through my chest too many times to count.
I want to go back in time. I want to grab eighteen-year-old me by the shoulders, shake some sense into him, and scream in his face to not listen to Damien. I want to fix this. I want to make this better and erase the years of fear and hopelessness they must have felt.
“I thought you were dead,” Mom whispers, her voice choked.
“I’m so sorry, Momma.” I shake my head, trying to get my emotions under control. “I should have—”
“No,” Dad says, cutting me off. “No should haves. All we have is right now, and we’re so damn glad we do.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to stop the flow of tears. I’m pretty sure it’s useless. After what feels like a lifetime, Mom pulls away with a sniffle, and Dad follows.
Even though her face is wet with tears, she’s smiling and her eyes are bright. She places a hand on my face, her thumb brushing away my tears.
I glance away, looking for Hunter. He’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and tear tracks on his cheeks, but when he catches me looking, he smiles. The little nod he gives me feels like he’s telling me he’s proud of me, and it makes warmth bloom in my heart.
Pushing off the wall, he comes closer. “How about we all sit down? Does that sound good?”
I nod because my throat feels like it might actually explode if I try to talk, and Hunter leads us to the couches. He sits down on the end of one, and I really want to sit in his lap, but I’m not sure if he’s okay with that.
When I hover beside him for a second, he smiles softly at me, then wraps his arm around my waist and tugs me into his lap. Thank fuck. Holding me around the stomach, he squeezes me to him.
Mom and Dad sit down on the couch across from us. Dad’s arm rests on the backrest behind her, and she leans into his side. It makes me happy to see that they still love each other so much.
I’d once thought that Damien was that for me—my love like theirs—but the more time I spend with Hunter, the deeper I fall in love with him—in a place Damien never even reached, and in ways I didn’t even know I could feel—the more I realize it’s actually him.
He’s my great love story. He was always supposed to be.
Mom clears her throat. “I don’t know where to start. I have a million questions.”
My stomach clenches. “Ask away.”
“How are you?” she asks, her eyes locking on mine.
“Better,” I answer truthfully. “For a long while, I wasn’t. You were…” My voice cracks, and I scrunch my nose up. “You were right… About Damien, about all of it.”
Mom gives me a sad smile. “I hope you know it brings me no joy to be right.”
“I know, Momma,” I whisper.
Hunter rubs his hand down my spine in a soothing gesture.
Her face crumples. “You look so grown-up now. You still had a baby face the last time I saw you. You’re a grown man now.”
It’s ironic, considering I haven’t felt alive until now.
“Tell us more,” Dad says, and the wobble in his voice has my heart aching. “Are you working? Are you happy?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah, I work at a diner called Daisy’s. Luca—he’s a friend of mine… and uh…” I duck my head, my throat closing up.
“Luca was the man Damien was with after Theo,” Hunter says, saving me like always. “He got away too. They both survived Damien, and now they’re helping each other heal.”
We are, aren’t we? In some ways, maybe. My heart warms. God, we really are. At the very least, he’s helping me. “Yeah,” I croak out. “Luca lives here. In Silverpine, and he invited me to come visit, and then I met Hunter.”
Hunter does another slow sweep of my spine, and I relax some in his warm embrace.
“Anyway,” I say. “Luca works at Daisy’s too, and he got me a job. It’s just part-time right now, but that’s for the best, really. My mental health is kinda all over the place.”
I can practically feel Hunter’s frown. “You’ve been doing really well lately, sweetheart. Don’t discount your progress.”
He’s right, of course. I nod before looking up at Mom and Dad. “It was rough there for a while… Some days I didn’t think I’d even make it through the day. But now I’m on an antidepressant, and it helps a lot. So does my community.”
Mom smiles. “I’m so happy you have that. Do you have room in your community for a couple more?”
Her expression is hopeful, and so is Dad’s. My throat is raw and tight when I whisper a choked-off “Please.”
We talk for hours. About Damien and what happened to me with him—which brings some tears, for them and for me—about my life after, and my depression. How Hunter and I connected.
Mom and Dad fill me in too. The people they’ve met and the places they’ve visited. How much they’ve missed me and how much they’ve wanted to hear from me.
By the time Millie comes home with enough groceries for a small army, we’re all cried out, and Hunter is showing them all the candid photos he’s taken of me since I got here.
I didn’t even know most of them existed. He’s got me riding on Molls and me playing with Lila in the fields, snuggling with my baby chickens. Me with my head thrown back, laughing at something Luca said.
Then more. Me sleeping peacefully beside him in bed. Me turning back to look at him the day he taught me how to ride the four-wheeler, my eyes shining.
I think Mom and Dad see the same things I see. Me. Full of life and in love. And the way that Hunter captures me reminds me of what I saw in the mirror that night. Looking at myself through his eyes is something beautiful and rare.
Millie introduces herself with a smile, and Mom excuses herself to go help cook dinner.
My heart swells as Hunter and my dad talk like they’ve known each other forever, laughing as Dad tells him cute Theo-isms from my childhood.
I close my eyes, resting my cheek against Hunter’s shoulder.
I’m safe. I’m happy. And for the first time in over a decade, I get to sleep under the same roof as my parents. I get to sit around the table and eat a meal with them. I get to exist in their world.
And that I get to do it with Hunter by my side makes me feel like the luckiest man alive.
Mom
I hope you had a good day at work. We can’t wait to visit again.
I smile at my phone as I lean against the wall at the diner. We’ve been slow today, which doesn’t bother me much.
Luca sent Deb home hours ago, and now it’s just me, him, and Arlo.
Me
I’m still here for now, but I’ll call you when I get home. I love you.
Mom
I love you too. Can’t wait to be back in the same town as you.