Chapter 23 #2
There’s no anger in his eyes now. “I realized on my long drive here how badly I’ve handled things,” he continues.
“Not just today. For a long time.” He glances over my shoulder toward the farmhouse.
“It shouldn’t have taken all this for me to stand up to my father.
Or to admit to my nan that trying to keep her promise was slowly killing me. ”
My chest tightens, but I don’t interrupt.
“And I definitely should’ve understood how my words would land with you in that lift.
” He looks back at me, his gaze intense.
“When I said I needed time, I thought I was being careful. I thought I was giving us room to breathe.” He shakes his head.
“I didn’t realize that to you, it sounded like I was stepping back.
I didn’t realize it sounded like a goodbye. ”
“It did sound like you were pulling away.”
His jaw tightens. “That’s the last thing I wanted you to feel.” He rubs a hand over his face, then drops it. “The truth is, I wasn’t trying to decide whether I wanted you. That part was never in question.”
My breath catches.
“I care about you, Kaori,” he says, quieter now. “That never wavered. Not for a second.” He pauses before continuing. “What I panicked about was whether you would still want me.”
I stare at him, confused. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“When you told me who you really were,” he says, his eyes searching mine, “all I could think was that sooner or later, you were going to realize I wasn’t enough.
My father was partially right. I’m not the kind of man a woman like you is meant to end up with.
” He gives a rueful, lopsided shrug. “So instead of letting you see that I was terrified, I shut down.”
“Theo, if I didn’t want you, I wouldn’t be standing in a drafty shed in Devon,” I say.
“You are exactly the man I want.” I take a steadying breath.
“I don’t care about titles. I care about the man who eats chocolate pretzels and watches The Office with me.
I care about the person who takes care of me when I’m falling apart.
” My voice softens. “I care about being happy. Money and crowns mean absolutely nothing to me.”
“You make it sound very simple,” he says finally.
“It is,” I reply. “You’re the one who’s making it complicated.”
“I think,” he says slowly, “somewhere along the way, I started believing love was something I had to earn. That if I didn’t hit every mark—if I wasn’t beyond reproach—I’d lose the people who mattered.”
His gaze holds mine. “I’m a grump in the mornings. I travel too much. I’m relentless and demanding.” His gaze holds mine, searching. “I’m deeply flawed, Kaori. But I have a lot of love to give . . . if you’ll let me.”
I don’t answer with words. I step closer, closing the distance until there’s barely an inch of air between us. “You don’t have to be perfect,” I whisper. “You never did. I just need you to be you.”
I reach out, lacing my fingers through his. “I just need to know that when things get hard, you won’t disappear on me. Let me stand next to you, even when you’re still figuring things out.”
His breath stutters. “I can do that. I don’t want to shut you out again. And if I start to . . .” A corner of his mouth twitches. “You have my full permission to call me on my nonsense.”
“Oh, I was going to do that anyway.” I huff a quiet laugh, and finally, the tension breaks.
He closes the last inch of space between us and lifts both hands to my face, his palms warm and rough from work. His thumb sweeps a trembling line across my cheek. We lean into one another and his lips meet mine.
The kiss is slow at first, like we’re relearning the shape of us and placing all the jagged edges of a broken glass back together. Which we are. Every fear, every misunderstanding, every painful moment from the elevator and after dissolves between us.
Theo exhales softly against my lips. His hands rise, threading into my hair with a tenderness that steals my breath. His fingers move slowly, brushing through the strands as if memorizing their texture.
My hands slide up his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palms. His skin is warm through the thin fabric of his dress shirt.
My eyes flutter closed as Theo deepens the kiss.
I feel his lips part as he draws a soft breath against mine before he presses in again.
His other hand settles at my waist, pulling me closer.
I soak in every moment, not taking anything for granted. As we slowly break apart, our foreheads stay pressed to one another.
In a throaty voice, he says, “I can’t promise that I won’t mess this up again.”
“Me either.”
He leans in for more, but the soft creak of the shed door snaps the moment.
Theo sighs, though he doesn’t let go of me. “Yes, Nan?” He shifts instinctively, sliding an arm around my waist and angling his body.
Nan stands in the doorway with her hands on her hips, her apron still dusted with flour and her eyes dancing with a sharp, grandmotherly intuition. “Young man,” she calls out. “We’ve been patiently waiting for you two. Have you made up already?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Theo answers, his voice sounding grounded for the first time today.
“Good boy.” She rubs her arms, glancing around the drafty space. “It’s freezing in here. I thought you would at least have the sense to install a heater by now.”
Theo’s face twitches. “It’s on my to-do list.”
“Mm-hmm. Just like your grandad.” She lets out a soft snort. “There’s always a project with you lot. At this rate, my great-grandchildren will be the ones who finally install that heater.”
Theo’s neck flushes a deep, spectacular shade of red, but Nan barrels on, blissfully oblivious, or perhaps entirely intentional, about her grandson’s discomfort. “Now come along. The sponge cake is waiting, and it’s not polite to keep guests lingering in the kitchen.”
“We’ll be right there, Nan,” Theo says gently.
She gives a decisive nod and shuffles back toward the house, leaving the faint, comforting scent of vanilla and flour in her wake.
Theo turns back to me with an embarrassed half smile, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. “Welcome to Devon. And to Nan’s world.”
“I like it here. And I like her,” I say, looking at the stone walls that have sheltered him for so long. “I can see why this is where you come when you need to disappear. Ready to go back in?”
He tightens his grip on my fingers, his gaze steady on mine. “Only if you walk in with me.”
“Always.” I squeeze his hand back, anchoring us both. We slowly head back toward the house. “I do have one question for you.”
“Only one?” he teases.
“For now,” I giggle.
“Ask away,” he says.
“That tattoo on your arm. . .is it a drafting compass?”
Theo pauses. He slowly rotates his arm, exposing the inner wrist. There, in fine, sharp lines that mimic a vintage sketch, is the instrument.
“It is,” he says, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.
“After your grandfather?” I guess.
“Yeah.” He looks down at the ink, then back at me. “I got it after he passed. It’s my way of keeping a piece of him close to me.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” he says softly. clearing his throat, he reaches for my hand again. “Come on, let’s go before Nan comes looking for us again.”