24. Theo
24
THEO
T he morning sun wakes me up the following morning. Grace is still asleep, her hair spilling across the pillow, one arm draped lazily over her head.
I lie beside her, watching the light dance over her skin and wondering how I got so lucky to have her here with me.
Especially since this place is woven so deeply into my past.
The manor has been in my family for generations. My mother’s family, actually. She grew up in the English countryside and inherited this estate, even though she hasn’t spent much time here in recent years.
Bringing Grace here feels oddly intimate, like I’m sharing a part of myself I’ve always kept hidden.
I’m not sure anyone even knows that my mother is from England.
Grace stirs, blinking awake, her eyes slowly focusing on me.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” I murmur, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.
“Morning.” She smiles, stretching with a contented sigh. “I was scared to wake up and that this has all been a dream.”
“Reality, Princess, and I’m planning on keeping you here as long as possible,” I say, only half-joking.
She laughs softly, glancing around the room, her gaze lingering on the antique furniture and the high ceiling adorned with intricate plasterwork.
“This place…it’s incredible. How long has it been in your family?”
“A long time.
My mother grew up here, actually. She’s English, as you probably guessed, and this estate belonged to her family.
She inherited it, but life took us elsewhere.
I’ve only ever visited occasionally.”
She tilts her head, studying me. “You never mentioned much about your family. You seem so… different here, like this is where you’re meant to be.”
“Maybe that’s true,” I admit. “I suppose this place shows a part of me that I don’t usually let others see. Bringing you here…it feels right.”
She reaches out, lacing her fingers with mine. “Thank you. For sharing this part of yourself with me.”
Her words make me smile, and I find myself wanting to show her everything about this place, every memory I have tucked away in its rooms and halls.
After we get dressed, I take her through the house, pointing out the faded portraits of my ancestors and the little quirks of the manor.
We wander outside to the gardens, where ivy-covered walls surround us, and I show her the hidden paths and the ancient trees that seem to hold secrets of their own.
My phone rings, and I glance down to see Devon calling.
“Hey man, what’s up?”
“Grace’s stalker is out of jail. He was supposed to be in a mental facility but walked out the front door,” he almost growls.
Shit.
“What do we do?”
“Stay off the radar until the premiere tomorrow.
Make sure no one knows where you’re staying.
Keep everything off social media and out of print.
From this point on, anything you do needs to be scheduled by someone he won’t know—and it shouldn’t be in writing.
Both of your phones were checked for spyware before you left, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“We’ve been doing that,” I sigh. “I have someone here that can schedule everything for me.”
“Keep it up.
I have everyone looking for this man, and he will be taken back to the facility—it’s court-ordered.
We’ll push to get the police involved and have his sentencing changed, since he’s not abiding by the probation.”
“Okay, thanks for the update,” I tell him.
I hang up the phone and look back at Grace.
The last thing I want to do is ruin our perfect little bubble of tranquility here, but I can’t keep this from her. I can’t keep her safe if she doesn't know he’s out.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Andrew walked out of the mental facility. As far as we know, he doesn’t know where you are.”
She gasps, tears welling up in her eyes as she turns and takes a few steps away.
“I’m not going to let him get close to you. No one in the village will tell him where we live either. We’re in the safest place possible.”
“I should have known that the other shoe would drop.”
“Nope, we’re not going there. We’re not dropping into the negative, okay?”
She nods slowly. “Okay.”
“We have the premiere in London tomorrow night. I understand if you don’t want to go now, but it would mean a lot to have you by my side.”
“I wouldn’t miss that. I don’t want Andrew to win and if I’m hiding from the world, he certainly does.”
“You up for another red-carpet event, then?”
She bites her lip, pretending to consider it. “Well, I guess I can handle it. As long as there’s no surprise fan club mob.”
“Oh, there will be. It’ll be a sea of flashes and microphones, questions shouted from every angle. But if anyone can handle it, it’s you.”
“You were made for that life, it seems.”
I tilt her chin up gently, meeting her gaze. “You belong there with me.”
The next day, we’re London-bound on the private jet. I can sense her excitement, even though she’s trying to play it cool.
She’s bouncing from scared to excited, and it’s clear that at some point, she’s a million miles away from worrying about her stalker.
She’s dressed in a classic black dress that hugs her figure, simple yet elegant. The very definition of grace itself.
As we touch down and head to the premiere, her fingers find mine, squeezing tight.
When we arrive at the theater, the crowds are massive, lined up behind barricades, all holding cameras or phones, hoping to catch a glimpse of the cast.
The flashes are blinding as we step out, and the noise is a deafening mix of fans calling my name and photographers shouting instructions.
Grace takes it all in; she’s a natural at all of it. She knows when to smile, when to put on a show for the camera, and how to talk to anyone and everyone with the most perfect Southern charm.
With her hand in mine, I lead her down the red carpet, pausing to smile for the cameras. I try to keep my focus on her, to make sure she feels comfortable, but it’s hard to ignore the barrage of questions being thrown our way.
“Theo, over here!”
“You two are the perfect couple!”
“We love us some Thrace!”
Jesus, that’s a horrible couple's name.
I shoot Grace a funny look, and she hides a laugh.
“Where will the wedding be, Theo?”
“Have you heard any more about your stalker? Rumor has it he’s out of the mental facility.”
I glance at Grace, who just gives a small smile, staying calm under the pressure. I can see a flicker of tension in her jaw, but she’s handling it like a pro.
“I have not. Hopefully, I don’t.”
As we make our way down the line, an all-too-familiar voice cuts through the noise, and I feel a knot tighten in my stomach.
What in the Hell is she doing here? There’s no reason she should be at my movie premiere.
“Theo! Long time no see,” she purrs, sidling up to us with a look of feigned innocence.
It’s Lydia, a woman I dated for about a month, looking as polished and calculated as ever. Her eyes flick to Grace, sizing her up in a single, judgmental glance.
“Well, well,” she says, her lips curving into a smirk. “You’ve certainly moved on quickly, haven’t you?”
Quickly? We briefly dated five years ago.
Grace tightens her grip on my arm, but she doesn’t flinch. “Nice to meet you,” she says politely, her voice steady.
Lydia arches an eyebrow.
“Charming. Though I hope you know what you’re getting into. Theo here can be… a handful.”
I feel Grace’s hand relax slightly on my arm as she looks Lydia squarely in the eye.
“I’d say I’m managing just fine.”
Lydia’s smirk falters, but she recovers quickly, casting me a sidelong glance.
“Well, it’s a small world. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime.”
She saunters off, casting one last glance over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.
I look down at Grace, searching her face. “You okay?”
She laughs softly, shaking her head. “If that’s the worst that can happen, I think I’ll survive. Who was she?”
I give her a grateful smile.
“You handled that better than I could’ve hoped. She tends to go for the jugular. We dated for about a month a long time ago. We’d known each other for a few years prior.”
She shrugs. “I’m used to catty women; she’s harmless.”
As we continue down the carpet, I feel another surge of affection for her. She has always been strong and poised, but watching her handle Lydia’s cattiness with such dignity, I’m reminded of just how exceptional she is.
We finally reach the entrance of the theater, and I exhale, relieved to leave the madness of the red carpet behind.
Inside, the atmosphere is quieter, with dimmed lighting and hushed voices as people take their seats.
I lead Grace to our seats in the front, grateful for a moment to catch my breath and just be with her.
As the lights dim and the movie begins, I steal a glance at her profile, illuminated softly by the screen. There’s a calm in her eyes that seems to ground me, making everything else fade away.
I glance over at Grace during certain parts of the movie, my favorite parts, to see her reactions.
She’s grinning, or crying, or in shock, feeling all of the parts of the movie in different ways, but throughout all of it, she’s looking as though she’s incredibly proud of me the entire time.
When the film ends, the applause is deafening, and I’m swept into the whirlwind of congratulatory handshakes and claps on the back.
I keep a hand on Grace, making sure she’s by my side and that she’s tucked into me as closely as possible.
Finally, as the crowd thins out and we make our way back to the car, I pull her close, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
“Thank you for being here with me.”
She looks up at me, a soft smile playing on her lips.
“I’ve never been to a premiere outside of the US. This was…incredible.”
I’m so grateful that I get to share these moments with her.