Chapter Twenty-Eight December 31
Chapter Twenty-eight
I broke up with Theo.
I didn’t even have to say anything. He knew it was coming.
I saw it in his eyes as he read the “we need to talk” text with my dad still seated next to him.
And once it was done? There were no tears.
No screaming matches. No begging or promises to change.
He basically shrugged and said, “Okay.” Had me almost believing it was.
But the last few days he’s gone out of his way to post pictures of himself living his best life, his arms around a new girl in every photo.
I know exactly what he’s doing. Unfortunately, it’s working.
I feel like shit, and it’s coming from all angles.
Because my father? He’s taking it worse than Theo and I combined.
“You’ve made a mistake,” he says to me over breakfast. “You won’t find someone better than him.”
“What if it’s not about finding someone better?” I challenge, looking up from my plate. “Besides, Theo is graduating soon and moving away. It was going to happen eventually.”
“You could have stayed together while he was at school.” Of course Dad would say that. How perfect would it be if his daughter’s perfect boyfriend lived hours away?
In his mind, my relationship with Theo was nothing more than a lengthy dinner reservation, so that one day, when we were both of marrying age, we’d default to one another.
It’s laughable that he thinks Theo, of all people, could abstain from sex for all those years.
I don’t understand how such a smart man, a man who lives in constant fear of my purity being tarnished, could be so oblivious to Theo’s true colors.
Not that Theo is a bad guy. He’s not. He’s just not the person Dad thinks he is.
Then again, neither am I.
Shakespeare was right. “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players…”
“I hope you don’t expect your mother and Petra to stop being friends,” Dad says as he brings his plate to the sink.
“Why would I expect that?” I ask, shoving a forkful of scrambled eggs into my mouth.
“If you keep an open mind, you could find your way back to one another.” He stands at the sink, rinsing his dishes.
What I want to say to Dad is that I’ve already wasted too much time with the wrong person and I’m not going to do it again.
“We’re going to Petra’s tonight for New Year’s. You should come instead of staying home alone. Maybe Theo will be there.”
“Theo will definitely not be there,” I say. “And I’m not spending New Year’s Eve alone. I’ll be here babysitting Paulie.”
“Right, right,” he says. “Can’t blame your old man for trying.” He comes over to the table, where I’m squishing the small pieces of leftover eggs under my fork. Dad ruffles my hair and places a kiss on the top of my head before walking out of the kitchen.
I hate how much I crave his affection. And how good it feels to receive it.
I have to hand it to Georgie. Looking after a one-and-a-half-year-old is exhausting. I feel like I’ve aged five years in one night.
Me: Your adorable monster is finally asleep.
Georgie: It’s almost eleven! Her bedtime is seven!
Me: I know!!! She wouldn’t go down. You’re welcome!!!
Georgie: You know this means she’ll be up earlier than usual tomorrow morning.
Me: How does that even make sense?
Georgie: Trust me.
Me: Better get your butt here early then. With iced coffees and donuts.
Georgie: You got it happy new year xoxo
Me: yeah yeah happy new year
Me:
I flop my tired and wretched-looking self on the couch, taking in the mess before me.
How does one toddler create so much disaster?
I could leave this for my mom to clean up in the morning, but I really don’t want to start off the new year with a lecture about how I need to pull my weight around the house.
I let out a loud sigh and start picking up Paulie’s messes.
I’m always going to be the girl who doesn’t want to upset my parents.
I’m always going to seek their approval.
And all I ever want to be is accepted and loved and valued and appreciated for who I am—but for who I really am.
Not this sanitized version of myself where I remain the same girl I was before my diagnosis.
That girl was lost. Confused. A people pleaser.
I guess not that much has changed.
After tidying up, I move to the kitchen to heat up the Greek takeout I didn’t get to enjoy with Paulie hanging off my arm. My phone buzzes as I’m wiping up the rice I spilled.
Andie: You’ve got to see this.
I press play on the video she sent to see Theo drunk out of his mind at a party.
Me: Who’s he there with?
Andie: Eddie.
Me: No John?
Andie: Not that I’ve seen. He’s completely fucked.
Me: Can you tell Eddie to bring him home?
Andie: Eddie is also completely fucked.
Andie: And before you ask me to do it, I am bordering on completely fucked.
Andie: He’s sloppy as hell too. Telling everyone you dumped him.
Me: I don’t know what you want me to do with this information. I’m babysitting Paulie.
Andie: idk but someone’s got to get him out of here before he gets his ass kicked.
Me: I’ll try John. Keep an eye on him.
Andie: lol yeah k I’ll try
The microwave dings. I ignore it and return to the family room instead.
I think about texting John, but my fingers are too shaky.
I call instead, hoping he’ll pick up. I never responded to his Christmas text.
Well, that’s not totally true. I responded by breaking up with Theo.
I just didn’t know what to say to John about it.
“Hello?”
“John. Hi. It’s me. Are you busy?”
“No. Everything okay?”
“Andie texted. She’s at Abby Windsor’s party and Theo is there. She said he’s really messed up and pissing people off. Do you think you might be able to bring him home?”
“What about Eddie?”
“Eddie is apparently not in any shape to drive either.”
“God, they’re such idiots.” I can almost hear him raking his fingers through his hair. A pang of something fierce flows through me, even now, in the middle of this Theo-inflicted drama. “I’ll try.”
“Thanks. Let me know how it goes.”
I pace around the house, carrying the baby monitor with me and checking my phone every fifteen seconds. No longer hungry, I toss my leftovers into the compost and give the kitchen a good scrubbing. Wiping down cupboards. The floor. Cleaning the fridge. Stove top.
Headlights flash through the front door window. I peek out to see John’s car pulling into my driveway. Theo gets out of the car and stumbles up my front path. I open the door before he has a chance to ring the bell and wake Paulie.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as he struggles to stand upright. John comes out of the driver’s seat, bags under his eyes, no jacket, hair cropped short. “Why would you bring him here?”
“He wouldn’t let me take him home,” John says, closing his door before circling to the passenger-side door and slamming it shut. “He said your parents are there?”
“Okay, then bring him to Eddie’s,” I say, like they’re both lacking any common sense.
“I don’t want to go to Eddie’s,” Theo says, pushing his way past me and into my house.
John and I exchange glances as he steps through the doorway.
There’s a hesitation in the way John moves, like he doesn’t feel welcome here.
I try to tell him with a look that I want him here, more than anything, but I’m not sure my message is coming across.
Not with Theo being a complete disaster a few feet away.
“At least take your shoes off,” I say to Theo. He turns around and, with a toothy smile, kicks off his shoes before falling face-first onto the sofa.
“I’m sorry,” John says, “but telling Theo I’d bring him here was the only way I got him out of the party. I thought when we got to Eddie’s I could trick him into going home with him, but he wasn’t having it. He’s even more of a stubborn asshole when he’s drunk.”
I run my hands down my face, hoping an idea will come to me if I think hard enough. Anything to get Theo up and out of my house before my parents return.
Although…
Maybe it would do them some good to see Theo like this. To see for themselves that he’s not the perfect altar boy they think he is.
“Leave him,” I say, coolly.
John’s brows pinch. He’s glancing between Theo, whose long limbs are hanging off the couch as a trail of drool drips from his open mouth, and me, arms crossed.
“Want a drink?” I ask, nodding to the kitchen.
John looks around, eyebrows still furrowed. “I don’t think I should stay?”
“How else am I going to explain how Theo got here. Unless…”
“Unless what?” John asks, still standing in between the family room and foyer, undecided.
“Unless I’m keeping you from something or someone?”
“I was hanging out at home. Alone.”
Relief floods through me at his response. Alone. “Why didn’t you go to the party with Theo and Eddie?”
He swallows, burying his hands in his jean pockets. “Lennon, Theo and I aren’t really close anymore.”
I stall, thinking over the last five months. I just thought Theo was spending all his free time with me because that’s what couples do. God, I can be so self-involved.
“Is this because of me?” I ask, already knowing the answer. “Wait, did Theo ask you to stop speaking to me?”
He shakes his head slightly. “I didn’t just do it for him. I did it for you, too.”
“Oh.” I laugh. “How commendable. I just love it when men make decisions on my behalf.”
“Did you really think you and Theo could be a couple and I would just…what? Hang around as a spare tire on all your dates? Watching the two of you fall deeper in love?” John takes a step closer, his voice quieter.
“When he asked me to respectfully keep my distance, I agreed, because I knew it was the right thing for all of us.”
“You’re no better than the rest of them,” I say, waving an arm in anger. “Deciding what’s best for me as if I don’t have a mind of my own.”
“But you chose Theo.”