Chapter 20
Emma
Theo and I are curled up on his couch, me tucked against his side with my legs folded under me, the fire crackling low and the last light fading over the water outside.
The house still smells like the cookies we baked this afternoon with Chloe, who ate four before dinner and then claimed she wasn’t hungry.
We played a board game for the rest of the night.
Chloe and I share a competitive streak that Theo clearly finds hilarious, given how hard he laughed watching us face off.
She won by a landslide. I took it with grace and dignity, by which I mean I immediately accused her of cheating and she giggled so hard she fell off the couch.
Now she’s conked out upstairs, exhausted from all of it, and it’s just me and Theo and the quiet.
“You know,” I tell him, taking a sip of my wine. “I could get used to this.”
I gesture vaguely at the room—the fire, the view, the wine, him. All of it. I realize a second too late what I’m actually saying. That I want this. That I want to be here, with him and Chloe, not just tonight but every night. That I’m already imagining a future where this is my life.
Theo’s thumb traces lazy patterns on my shoulder. “Good,” he says. “That’s the plan. Seduce you into staying forever with good food and fucking you senseless every chance I get.”
I nearly choke on my wine. “Wow,” I manage, grinning up at him. “You’re pretty smooth for an old man. I hope that’s a promise.”
“I prefer distinguished, and it’s definitely a promise.”
We sit in silence for a while, watching the fire, drinking our wine. The weight of the day settles over me like a blanket, heavy but warm. I feel safe here, in his house, in his arms, in this life we’re building together.
“Can I ask you something?” Theo says eventually.
“Anything.”
“Your parents.” He says it carefully. “You don’t talk about them much. I know your mom passed, and I know that’s when things got complicated with the company. I just want to understand.”
Whatever I’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. I don’t love talking about my family, the whole thing is such a mess, and once you start pulling at one thread the whole ugly tapestry unravels. But with Theo it feels different.
“You sure you want all the gory details?” I ask, looking up at him.
“It’s where you come from.” He says it simply. “And I want to know everything about you.”
I lean up and kiss him softly, then settle back against him and take a sip of wine.
“My parents were tough on us,” I say slowly.
“High expectations for everything. When I got into Columbia two years early, my mom said that was pretty good, but asked why I hadn’t applied to Harvard.
” I smile at the memory, though it’s bittersweet.
“She wasn’t being cruel. That was just how she showed love. By pushing us to be better.”
He raises a brow. “Wow. You weren’t kidding about high expectations.”
“No, I wasn’t. It sounds intense, and it was, but we were also a pretty happy family.
Close. Dinner together every Sunday, vacations together every summer.
” I trace my finger along the rim of my wine glass.
“And my parents seemed so in love. They’d look at each other like they were the luckiest people in the world.
I remember thinking I hope I get that lucky someday.
To have a marriage like that, a family like that. ”
I take a breath. “And then it turned out my dad had been cheating on my mom. For years.”
Theo’s arm tightens around me. “That’s awful.”
“It was devastating.” I give him a half-smile.
“Not just the betrayal, but realizing that everything I thought I knew about my family was a lie. The divorce was ugly. It tore everything apart. Sophie and I sided with my mom. Our other three sisters were upset too, but they stayed closer to my dad.” I shake my head.
“I hated him, but at the same time I missed all of us being together so much. That fracture never really healed, and then my mom got cancer a few years later and she didn’t make it. ”
“I’m sorry,” Theo says softly. “There’s nothing like losing a parent.”
I look up at him. He’s told me about losing his own parents—his dad when he was in his twenties, his mom just a couple years ago. He knows this kind of grief. I squeeze his arm, grateful I don’t have to explain.
“Yeah. It’s pretty fucking shitty.” I take another sip of wine.
“My dad gave her the company as part of the divorce settlement. It was her baby anyway—she started it in our garage when I was a toddler, built it into something she really believed in. Something that would help kids learn and grow.” I stare at the fire.
“When she died, the five of us inherited it. And things just kept falling apart from there.”
He nods, his hand stroking gently up and down my arm. I take a breath. This is stuff I haven’t dug into in years, and now that it’s open it feels like it needs to come out. All of it.
“Do you talk to your dad at all?” Theo asks.
“Sophie and I don’t. Not really.” I watch the flames flicker and dance.
“He still talks to the other three. I know he’s not happy with what they’ve done to the company.
He probably wishes he still had shares so he could stop it.
But it’s hard to care what he thinks when he’s the one who blew up our whole family in the first place. ”
I trail off, staring at the fire. The silence stretches for a moment before Theo speaks.
“I’m sorry,” he says gently. “I didn’t mean to dredge all this up. I just know you’ve been dealing with the KidStream stuff, and I want to understand. To know what you’re carrying.” He strokes my arm. “We don’t have to talk about it. It’s completely okay if you’d rather not right now.”
I smile up at him. “No, it actually feels good to get it out. I feel like I can tell you anything.” I pause, suddenly self-conscious. “I mean, unless all this family drama is going to scare you off.”
“Nothing can scare me off.” His voice is firm, certain. “Nothing. I want to hear whatever you want to tell me.”
“Thanks,” I say softly, looking up into his warm brown eyes. Something settles in my chest, some knot I didn’t even know was there loosening. I’ve never felt this safe with anyone. Never felt like I could lay all my mess out and have someone stay.
I fiddle with the stem of my wine glass, turning it slowly between my fingers.
“And now KidStream is a fucking nightmare. I tried to fight it for a while, but then I just... ran away from it. And I hate that. I’ve never thought of myself as someone who runs away.
I’ve always been comfortable with confrontation, with handling my shit, with standing up for what I believe in. But this...”
Theo nods slowly. “I know what you mean,” he says.
“I consider myself a reasonable person, but nothing makes me act like a teenager again faster than a fight with one of my brothers. Something about family dynamics, the roles you get locked into when you’re young.
They’re hard to break out of, even when you’re an adult who should know better. ”
“That’s it exactly.” I look up at him, relieved he understands. “I feel like I’m sixteen again, running away from my bossy older sister because she won’t listen to me and I don’t know how to make her.”
“Have you thought more about the board meeting?” he asks. “Keeping your shares, fighting back?”
I sigh. “Yeah. I’ve talked to Sophie. And I know you think I should.
And it kills me because I think I should too.
” I stare at the fire, feeling the weight of it pressing down on me.
“And I don’t even think Morgan and Erica are happy.
I think they’re just going along with Sloane because it’s easier than standing up to her.
And now all this shit is happening with Sloane trying to boot us out.
I just...” I trail off, feeling something sting my eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”
Theo sees the tears before I can blink them away. He takes my wine and sets both glasses on the coffee table, then pulls me into his lap in one smooth motion. His arms wrap around me completely, gathering me against his broad chest, and suddenly I’m surrounded by him.
“I’ve got you, baby.” His voice is low and steady. “Let it out.”
And I do. I don’t know why. Maybe because I’m exhausted from holding it in. But the tears come and I can’t stop them. I cry into his chest while he holds me, one hand moving in slow circles on my back, the other cradling the back of my head, keeping me pressed against him.
It’s not just about the family drama with KidStream, I realize as the sobs shake through me.
It’s years of holding it together, trying to forge my own path after Mom died, after my father’s affair tore us apart.
Years of fighting my oldest sister in board meetings and losing.
Years of feeling like I’ve been carrying it all alone for so long.
I’ve never cried in front of a man like this, but with Theo it’s like nothing I could do would shake him. Like he could hold me here forever and never tire of it. “I’m sorry,” I mumble into his shirt, still a little embarrassed by the mess I’m making.
“Don’t.” His arms tighten around me, firm and sure. “Don’t ever apologize for letting me take care of you.”
I nod, not trusting my voice, and he pulls me back against him, tucking my head under his chin. When the tears finally slow, I stay where I am against his chest. I can hear his heartbeat, slow and strong. I can feel the rise and fall of his breathing.
After a long moment, I pull back and reposition myself in his lap, straddling his thighs so we’re face to face.
There’s something almost unbearably intimate about it, sitting here with my face wet from tears, my heart cracked wide open while he looks at me with so much tenderness I can barely stand it.
I’m completely exposed to him like this. And it feels right.