Chapter Fourteen #2
“I understand if you hate me, Theo. I do. I hate myself.” She inhaled deeply, gathering herself for whatever she was about to say next.
“I just wanted to ask you to come home for our family Christmas party. Please.” Eleanor lifted her eyes to meet her son’s.
“You’re all I have. And I’d give anything for you to forgive me. ”
Theo stayed silent.
But his eyes grew wide with horror.
“You want me to come to a party?” he finally whispered. “Looking like this?”
Eleanor shook her head sharply, her own eyes widening as she seemed to realize her mistake. “You…y-you could wear a mask. You could wear a mask, Theo. It’s fine, you don’t have to—”
“Then you want me to cover it up?” He’d somehow gone even paler than before, the edges of his lips completely leached of color, his pallor almost green.
“You want me to cover it up because of the way I look. That’s what it is, isn’t it?
” he whispered frantically. “I’m an embarrassment.
I’m still the family embarrassment, after all these years—after all this time. ”
“No. No, that’s not what I—”
“It’s all a lie. The lie of a perfect family. That’s why you want me there, and that’s why you want me to cover my face.”
Eleanor’s own face fell as she watched her son spiral. Her shoulders slumped. Theo looked wild, like he might throw up, like there could be no reasoning with him now. He was beyond hearing.
“I can’t believe you just asked me to do this.
There’ll be questions. Everyone will stare at me, they’ll bring up the video, they’re going to look at me with pity, like I’m diseased, like I’m damaged goods.
I always have been because of Dad, because of what I do, only now I actually look like it, and I—I—”
His mom closed her eyes and shook her head as she curled his fingers back over the keys she’d just given him.
He finally froze at the feeling of her hands on his.
“Theodore,” she finally said, her voice calm and even.
“If you come, I would want you to do what you think is most comfortable.” She gripped his hand tightly in both of hers.
“You’re my son. My genius, handsome, incredible son, scar or no scar.
And I love you, no matter what.” When she lifted his injured hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss to it, another tear dropped from her lashes onto his skin. “I’m sorry. And I love you.”
Eleanor let him go, and, with a final swipe of her hands across her cheeks, she dried her tears and turned away from Theo.
He stood there, frozen in one spot, swaying on his feet as if it was all he could do to hold himself upright while his mother grabbed her purse from the counter and strode toward the front door, the sound of her stilettos clacking staccato against the ceramic woodgrain tile.
When Eleanor crossed in front of Audrey, she paused and put a hand on her shoulder.
“You’re welcome to come too, sweetie. Anyone Theo cares enough about to have in his home is welcome.” Her eyes darted over toward her son. He hadn’t turned to watch her leave. He stood stock-still with his back to his mother, staring blankly out the window overlooking the view of the East River.
Eleanor turned her attention back to Audrey.
“I really would love for you both to come spend Christmas at our family home in Albany. I understand if you have other plans, but I—” Tears lined Eleanor’s eyes again, and she tried desperately to blink them away.
“The holiday season was already going to be so hard for us this year without his father. It was always going to be bad without Henry. I don’t want to make things worse, but I would like to ask that you please consider it. ”
With one last squeeze on Audrey’s shoulder, Eleanor made her way to the front door.
And left them alone.
When the door clicked shut and automatically locked with a beep, silence descended around them both like the blade of a guillotine.
The last rays of the sun broke through the city skyline in the distance, refracting off of millions of windows and glittering across the water, casting everything around them in a soft, golden glow.
Theo hadn’t moved from where he stood in the middle of the floor, trapped between his kitchen and his living room.
He was staring at his father’s neon shop sign.
“Theo?” Audrey whispered, finally taking a step toward him. A tear dropped from one of her eyelashes and she lifted a hand to find her whole face was wet.
When did she start crying?
She didn’t know.
At the sound of her voice, Theo straightened and slowly turned to face her.
Horror.
Horror was written in his eyes.
He heaved and dropped the keys his mother had left him as he clamped a hand to his mouth. They hit the floor with a clatter and skidded across the tile.
Theo followed.
His legs finally gave out, and he fell heavily to his knees. He only just managed to stop himself from completely collapsing by bracing his left hand against the hard floors.
“THEO!” Audrey rushed over to him and threw herself onto her own knees, brushing his hair away from his face. Tears still streamed from his eyes as he trembled, and he took deep, gasping breaths while he lowered his head and tried not to vomit.
“Please don’t leave me,” he finally choked out. “Please don’t.”
“Oh god, no. No. I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his head and pulling him into her chest. “There’s no way I’m leaving you.” He clung to her while he shivered and buried his face in her sweater, still gulping for air, as though what had just happened suffocated him.
She held him on the floor until he calmed enough to pull away. The sky outside was gray and darkening by the second, and Theo still looked like he was about to be sick.
“I-I just need a—a minute. Give me a minute,” he mumbled, pushing himself to his feet. Audrey rose with him, helping him steady himself until he was able to stumble over to the staircase. “Let me clean myself up. I’ll—I’ll b-be…I’ll be right back.”
He gripped the banister so hard, his knuckles turned white as he mounted the stairs, his eyes glassy and unfocused.
What she’d just seen with his mother had been so raw, so anguished, it had left her feeling empty inside.
She could only imagine what he was feeling right now. She made her way to the couch and curled up in the corner, drawing her knees to her chest and trying not to cry.
When thirty minutes ticked by and Theo still hadn’t come back down, she got even more nervous.
Audrey slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way upstairs.
He was in no shape to be left alone for too long, and she was starting to feel a little afraid of what he might do.
Fear prickled at the back of her neck at the eerie, empty silence of his house in the aftermath of the argument, and when there was no sign of him on the second floor, she wandered up to the master suite on the third.
As soon as she mounted the landing, she heard the hiss of the shower coming from his bathroom. Light spilled beneath the door, and she pursed her lips while she entered the bedroom.
All right. One mystery partially solved. Some of the unease in her stomach ebbed, but it didn’t completely disappear. Perhaps she could settle in while she waited—he certainly hadn’t wanted her to leave, and she’d promised him she wouldn’t.
But as soon as she saw his bedroom, she stopped in her tracks.
Theo had made some changes.
It wasn’t just that Roo sat waiting for her on her nightstand, looking almost comically out of place against the sleek, modern, monochrome design aesthetic of grown-up Theo.
It was also that two small black cylindrical machines sat plugged in on both nightstands, standing guard on either side of the bed.
Across from them on one of the bookshelves was a new black essential oil diffuser, pumping a steady stream of lavender-scented mist into the air, and on another shelf glowed a beautiful salt lamp.
Soft, soothing light in striped tones of amber and orange, pink and gold filtered out from the bulb inside, spilling across the floor and gently illuminating the room in the dark of freshly fallen evening.
It was on a dimmer switch, cranked up to maximum brightness.
When she turned on a bedside lamp and clicked the button on one of the new black machines, a steady, droning white noise poured forth—and she clamped a hand to her mouth, suddenly fighting back tears.
She’d told Theo she was afraid of the dark.
She’d told him she had trouble sleeping.
And he’d gone and given her light and sound and scent to help.
He’d tried so hard to make her feel comfortable here, in his room, his house, his home.
He’d made those changes, rearranged his life for her.
She let the bag fall to the ground and hurried over to the bathroom door, knocking softly once. “Theo?” she called.
No answer.
She knocked again, more urgently this time.
“Theo?”
When he still didn’t answer, panic took over. He’d never not responded to her before.
Audrey opened the door.
Steam poured out in swirling waves, and his outline was silhouetted behind the frosted glass of his massive, luxurious shower. He was seated in some sort of chair, his face buried in his hands, right leg extended stiffly out in front of him.
He was upright but hunched over.
He wasn’t moving.
“Theo!”
He didn’t respond. Audrey eyed the pile of his clothes on the floor and kicked off her boots.
“I’m coming in.”
She tore her clothes off before yanking the shower door open. When the steam rushed out at the sudden break in the seal, she could finally see him clearly.
And her stomach dropped.
She’d seen him before, of course, and plenty of times.
She had the curves of his face memorized so well by now, she could envision them behind her eyes when she closed them at night, could trace them with her fingers if she suddenly went blind, could draw every multicolored mahogany and amber and light, spring green swirl in his irises from memory.