Theo’s Epilogue #12
His grin only widened. “No, that’s not how partnerships work. You won’t owe me anything. And besides, you’ve already paid me back a thousandfold, as far as I’m concerned. I owe you. Your college education is nothing in comparison to what you’ve done for me.”
Her frown deepened. “But that’s—”
“Then consider it the rest of the scholarship you should have had—the one you had at the start, and would have kept if you’d only had the right help.
Which you deserved, by the way. Why do others deserve help, and you don’t?
” He brushed the hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ears.
“Think of it as a scholarship from the Redmond Family Foundation.”
“That’s not a real thing.”
“Yes, it is.” He raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget that my family has a charitable foundation? I don’t joke when it comes to money. And besides, what’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours. Your debt is mine. My wealth is yours. We’re partners. That’s how it works.”
Her face broke, and she buried it again in his shoulder while she cried. He let her sob on top of him for a while before carrying her upstairs to bed.
Theo was never more pleased or relieved to see an account paid down to zero in his entire life.
It was six months ago that he didn’t even see his scar anymore.
He realized it while he was shaving. He was looking in the mirror, tilting his head this way and that, trying to get rid of every bit of stubble for Audrey.
She liked running her hands along his smooth skin in the mornings, drawing her lips along his freshly shaven jawline, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of his aftershave. He liked the way it made him feel.
And it was then he noticed that…
He hadn’t noticed it.
It had been weeks since he’d even really paid the scar much mind. Months, even.
It was long healed, completely closed, and had thinned considerably, given all the treatments he’d gotten.
Now it was nothing but a fine, white line slashing across his face—and he was already pale enough to where it wasn’t particularly distinguishable.
Even his eye opened almost as wide as it originally did, the muscles and sinews knit back together, the nerves mostly healed.
Only a slight bit of asymmetry in his cheekbones betrayed the titanium plate lurking beneath.
Theo set the razor down on the edge of the sink and stared at his reflection in wonder.
There he was.
He never thought the day would come when he’d see himself again.
But it had.
And it happened so slowly, he didn’t even notice.
Because he was too happy to care about something so small and so insignificant as a scar.
It was three months and sixteen days since Theo entered another piece into the annual charity auction. And it was three months and sixteen days since he beat his own record and raised over five million dollars for the domestic violence shelter he’d failed a few years ago.
He’d wanted to do better for them, so he tried again.
Their director fainted when she heard the news.
Maybe he shouldn’t have kept it a surprise.
He was going to have to change how he did things.
He couldn’t have people hurting themselves over a bit of art.
Theo kept going to therapy.
Weekly, at first. Then once every two weeks. And then, one day, Amelia recommended that he go down to once a month.
They were running out of things to talk about.
And over time, the grip his anxiety—the demon who lived in his stomach—had on him loosened.
Until he didn’t feel it hardly at all anymore.
Until he could look at a photo of his father and only feel grief rather than guilt.
Until he stopped worrying so much about dying.
Three months and twelve days ago, he ripped that dark drawing of the specter of his pain out of his sketchbook and burned it.
When he did, he felt lighter than he had in years.
As soon as the edges of the paper curled into ash, he pulled out his phone and booked two first-class international plane tickets in the spring.
It was time.
Audrey was his best friend.
She was more than the love of his life.
She was more than his soulmate.
She was his own heart, plucked straight through his rib cage and made flesh. More than his better half, she was his better whole. She was his family, and he was hers.
And he wanted to make an even larger one with her.
It was two months since he started wondering what it might be like if maybe the house wasn’t quite so quiet anymore. What it might be like if they added someone else to the mix.
It was two months since he wondered what Audrey thought about starting a family. He knew she wanted kids—they’d talked about it, but only in the abstract, the theoretical. Now he wondered about the practical. Maybe biological. Maybe adopted. It didn’t matter.
He could wait.
But he wondered.
And first things first:
He wanted it official.
It was one day since they’d left New York. Audrey came downstairs yesterday morning at 8:30 like she always did on weekdays, standing on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Theo’s cheek while he made her lunch before she headed over to the espresso machine.
He loved cooking for her. Lately, he’d been making little Japanese-inspired bento boxes.
He especially liked making those because they required knife skills—and his hand hardly shook at all these days.
Audrey was the envy of her coworkers for them, especially for the pictures he drew and the notes he wrote on her napkins.
What he put on there was always a surprise.
It wasn’t always for other eyes.
Theo liked the idea of being a househusband. It suited him. He’d much rather stay home and work in his studio than work somewhere else with other people, and he liked taking care of his wi—girlfriend.
…girlfriend.
That word was too small for what they had.
It didn’t fit anymore.
Time for a change.
He looked up from the sandwich he was cutting and glanced over his shoulder. “Everyone knows you’re leaving early today, right? Wesley and I will be there in the Bentley at three.”
The espresso machine whirred, and he watched quietly while Audrey frothed the milk and rotated her wrist, expertly mixing it into the crema of both of their flat whites, floating a quick little concentric pattern in the foam.
She swept the last of the milk through the middle of it and flicked her wrist with a flourish at the end, transforming the foam of his into a series of layered hearts before setting it down next to him.
He leaned over and kissed the top of her head in thanks.
“How could I forget? I’ve been dying to leave all week.” Then, a scowl. “I can’t believe you won’t tell me where we’re going. I had to get a passport, but you won’t tell me for which continent?! And you won’t even let me pack my own suitcase? How long are you going to keep me in the dark?”
He had a blindfold and earplugs already prepared. His lips broke into a crooked, wicked smile. “As long as I can, sweetheart. It’s too much fun for me. You know how I love surprises.”
Audrey groaned. “Fine.” She took the finished bento box he passed her and tucked it safely into her work bag. “Safe for work napkin today, or not safe for work?”
“Decidedly not safe.” The sound of her snort was such a rush.
She held up an accusing finger. “And you’re going to pack me underwear for this trip, right?” She gave him a stern look. “I mean it, Theo. Give me some fucking underwear this time. I don’t want a repeat of Christmas.”
“Absolutely not. You don’t need it. Commando for ten days.”
She shoved at his shoulder before grabbing his collar and yanking his head down for a kiss.
It was the second best Christmas he’d ever had.
The best was their first, when it was just the two of them exchanging gifts in his family’s quiet, snow-covered cabin in the Catskills in front of the fire.
But this past Christmas at his mother’s house in Albany had felt like coming home in a different way—a new way, and one that actually fit.
There was no big, extended Christmas party filled with aging Manhattan socialites making incessant small talk at him, no Uncle Lloyd, no house servants cooking big, stuffy, formal dinners.
Instead, it was just the three of them: Theo, Audrey, and his mother, wearing matching flannel pajamas and eating Chinese food with chopsticks straight out of the cartons while they lounged on the couch in the den and watched It’s a Wonderful Life.
It was perfect.
His dad would have loved it.
Audrey certainly did.
He spent yesterday packing their bags (including some underwear for Audrey) before Wesley picked him up. They went and got her next.
Then they went to the airport.
He kept her in the dark for most of the flight.
But she knew where they were when the pilot announced that they’d landed over the intercom.
And she cried.
Theo finally opened his eyes.
Sunlight streamed through the billowing white curtains of their Airbnb apartment in the third arrondissement, spilling across the light-stained chevron-laid wooden floors.
The night air was cool, so they’d left one of the windows cracked open while they slept, and the sounds of traffic crept through and mingled with their portable white noise machine.
Somehow, the noises of the cars and the people were different here than they were back home in Brooklyn.
It was a big city, but still different.
He watched Audrey sleep and ran whisper-soft fingers through her hair so as not to wake her.
She was curled into his chest, her eyes closed and her legs tangled with his, her breath warm against his skin.
She’d changed from when they’d first met—her hair was longer, her curves softer, her cheeks more filled out.
Somehow, she was even more beautiful, more radiant, more precious.
Maybe it was because he knew her now.
She stirred in his arms, and he knew she was awake when she yawned, arching her back while she stretched. After a moment, she finally opened her eyes.