17 | Sixth Weekend Pretending
THEO
The drive to her parents’ place was quiet at first.
Not uncomfortable—just careful.
Tessa sat in the passenger seat in a blue sundress, her hair loose, her fingers loosely laced in her lap.
“You look nice,” I said.
“Thanks.”
A beat.
I glanced over again. “How was work?”
She shifted slightly, like she hadn’t expected the question.
“Busy.” A small pause. “We had a beagle who tried to bite Dr. Kaplan. Twice.”
“Did he succeed?”
“Almost.” Her mouth curved a little. “He forgave me. Not her.”
“Smart dog.”
She huffed a quiet laugh.
“And a rabbit,” she added. “Got into a cable. Cut his paw open. Looked worse than it was, but the owner nearly passed out.”
“You handled it?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged, but her fingers tightened briefly against each other. “I like that part. When something’s wrong and you can just… fix it.”
I nodded.
“That makes one of us.”
She glanced at me. “You fix things.”
“I manage risk,” I said. “Not exactly the same thing.”
“It kind of is.” A small pause. “Just less fur.”
That pulled a real smile out of me.
For a second, it felt easy again.
Familiar.
Like nothing had shifted.
Like we hadn’t spent the last week pretending not to think about each other.
The road narrowed as we turned into her old neighborhood.
Trees thickening. Houses closer together.
She went quiet again.
I felt it before I saw it—the way her shoulders settled, the way her hands stilled completely this time.
Something was coming.
“Did it work?” she asked suddenly. “The weekend. For your boss?”
“I think so. Yeah.”
“Good.” She nodded once. “I’m glad.”
A pause.
Then, more casually than it felt—
“Did you really sleep with those women?”
The question caught me off guard.
“What?”
“Claire, Sophia… the others.” She shrugged slightly. “The ones who acted like I stole something from them.”
She looked at me again.
“Did you?”
A beat.
That wasn’t what I wanted to be talking about with her.
But I wasn’t going to lie.
“Some of them. Yeah.” I kept my voice even. “It was casual. I didn’t think they’d take it that seriously.”
“You must be pretty good,” she said suddenly.
There was something in her tone—light, but not quite.
“For them to react like that.”
I frowned slightly. “That’s not—”
“No, I mean it.” She let out a small laugh, but it didn’t quite land. “No one’s ever acted like that over me.”
I shook my head. “That’s impossible.”
“It’s not.”
She picked at the hem of her dress, avoiding my eyes now.
“Charles certainly never did.”
I wanted to say a lot of things.
That he was an idiot. That any man who had her and didn’t lose control over it didn’t deserve her in the first place.
But I didn’t.
“Are we friends again?” she asked quietly. “Like—actually friends?”
“I think so. Yeah.”
“Good.”
She nodded once, like she was settling something internally.
Then, after a pause:
“Can I ask you something personal?”
“Sure.”
She hesitated.
“Do you think I’m—”
She stopped, exhaled sharply, like the words caught somewhere on the way out.
“He never wanted to… experiment. With me. Said I was too good for that. Too ladylike.”
Her fingers twisted in the fabric of her dress.
“But then he went and got a blowjob from someone else, so clearly I wasn’t too good. I just wasn’t—”
She broke off.
Swallowed.
“Am I not sexy? Is that it?”
“Tessa—”
“I’m serious.”
She turned to me fully now, and there was no way around it. No soft version of this conversation.
“Because everything that happened with Charles tells me I’m not. That there’s something wrong with me.”
A breath—an unsteady one.
No.
Not even a little.
I could feel it low in my chest, sharp and immediate—the urge to pull over, drag her across the seat, prove it to her in a way words never could.
My foot eased off the gas without me meaning to.
The car slowed.
Last weekend—her shorts. This fucking thin tank top. The way she’d stood there like she had no idea what she was doing to me.
I’d had to look away for the rest of the night because I didn’t trust myself not to cross a line I wouldn’t be able to uncross.
I forced myself to focus. Pressed the gas back down.
“He’s a fucking idiot.”
It came out rough.
Too honest.
“And you’re wrong,” I said, forcing control back into my voice. “You have no idea how wrong you are.”
She held my gaze.
“Then why didn’t he want me?”
Because he wasn’t me.
Because he didn’t know what to do with you.
Because he didn’t see—
I exhaled slowly.
“You’ll find someone who can’t keep his hands off you,” I said instead. “Someone who loses his mind over you.”
My eyes stayed on hers.
“Trust me.”
She let out a quiet, humorless breath.
“I doubt that.”
“I don’t.”
She looked away again, back to the window, but her shoulders were tighter now.
“Well.” A small pause. “It’d be nice to imagine it, at least. Someone wanting me.”
Another pause.
The words settled heavy between us.
“I know that sounds stupid.”
“It doesn’t.”
Not even close.
We sat there for another moment before her parents’ house appeared through the trees—white siding, blue shutters, the porch swing I’d helped her dad install when we were sixteen.
I pulled into the driveway.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said.
“Anytime.”
She reached for the door handle, then paused.
“See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded. “See you tomorrow.”
She got out and walked up the path without looking back.
I watched her until she disappeared inside.
Someone who couldn’t control themselves around me.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
She had no idea.
TESSA
Mom opened the door before I could knock.
“Tessa!”
She pulled me into a hug—tight, warm, familiar in a way that settled something in my chest immediately.
“I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
Dad appeared behind her, already looking past me toward the driveway.
“Was that Theo?” he asked.
“Yeah. He gave me a ride.”
His face lit up instantly.
“Are you two friends again?”
“Something like that.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!”
Before I could react, he was already moving past me, out the door.
“Dad, what are you—”
Too late.
He was halfway down the driveway.
Mom laughed softly behind me.
“That was fast.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, turning back to her.
“Your father’s been waiting for an excuse to invite Theo to the party.”
“He doesn’t need an excuse. Theo’s always welcome—”
“I know.” She guided me inside. “But things have been… tense. Between you two. For a long time. We didn’t want to make it worse.”
Through the window, I watched Dad catch up to Theo’s car.
Theo rolled the window down. They started talking.
“That’s weird,” I said.
“Not really.” Mom moved toward the kitchen. “They’ve gotten close over the years.”
I followed her.
“What do you mean?”
“After Theo’s father passed, your dad started checking in on him. Making sure he was okay.” She reached for a pitcher of iced tea. “It started as helping Theo, but somewhere along the way it turned into Theo helping your dad.”
“Helping him how?”
“They play chess whenever Theo visits his mother. Sometimes Theo fixes things around the house. Gutters, lightbulbs, anything your father can’t quite manage anymore.”
She handed me a glass.
“He’s a good boy,” she added. “Your father’s very fond of him.”
Something tightened in my chest.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She paused, considering that.
“We didn’t know what was going on between you two,” she said carefully. “And we didn’t want to interfere.”
A beat.
“And your father likes having Theo around. I didn’t want to take that away from him.”
I turned back toward the window.
Dad clapped Theo on the shoulder.
Theo smiled.
A real one.
“How long has this been going on?” I asked.
“A few years now.”
A few years.
All this time, he’d been here. Twenty minutes away. Visiting his mother. Sitting at our table. Playing chess with my dad.
And I hadn’t known.
THEO
I was about to pull away when I saw Mark step out onto the porch.
“Theo!”
He was already smiling.
“Tessa said you two are friends again.”
I glanced toward the house. She was standing by the window, watching.
“Yeah,” I said. “We are.”
“That’s wonderful. Really wonderful.”
He leaned casually against the car door.
“Listen, we’re having a party tomorrow. Anniversary. Nothing big, just family and a few friends.” He paused. “I’d love it if you came. Maybe help with setup? Like old times.”
“I don’t want to intrude—”
“You’re not intruding.” He said it simply. “You’re family.”
The word landed heavier than he probably intended.
“Besides,” he added, “I need someone to help me move tables.”
I huffed a quiet laugh.
“All right. I’m in.”
“Good. Come by around five?”
“I’ll be there.”
He clapped me on the shoulder, satisfied, and headed back to the house.
I sat there for a moment after he disappeared inside.
Then I put the car in reverse.
Friends again.
Right.
I could do that.
Just friends.
And just like that, we were back to pretending.
Only this time, I wouldn’t be pretending that I loved her.
I’d be pretending that I didn’t.
????
Be honest—how long do you think Theo can keep pretending he doesn’t love her before he finally breaks?
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