Teddy
MARCH
Iknew it didn’t go well when I saw her face as she walked out those doors.
I didn’t want to go back to the hotel, too nervous to just sit around and watch tv, so I waited for the three hours she was in there.
I walked. And walked and walked around the block maybe twenty times.
I walked to that cafe where Indie and I had our first not-date, where I spilled my drink all over her and she told me I was like some bird I had never heard about and I wanted to drop to one knee right then and there and marry her.
I used to feel so comfortable in this city, my home.
But ever since we arrived yesterday, I’ve felt unsettled and I think it’s because I keep looking over my shoulder for my mother to appear.
She’s like the fucking boogeyman now, but I know she doesn’t leave her suburban dream home unless she wants to be seen.
I know where to find her, and I know that I’m going to have to straighten this out. I need to finally draw the line because that time in July she didn’t get the message.
Indie is off limits. Her career—her life—is off limits.
I let her harm Indie too many times to count throughout our relationship. While I sat on the sidelines and tried to keep the peace, because really I was scared of who I was, the man I could be without my mother running my entire life.
It’s a fucking miracle that Indie decided to give me a second chance. That she feels I earned it, and Indie is the smartest woman I know, so I’m not questioning her judgement. But I am never going to make her regret it.
Fuck… I don’t know how Indie is still standing after this. She’s been so strong, where I’ve been weak. Steadfast where I’ve been flaky. So, I need to handle this.
First, I need to make sure my girl is okay. I’m pacing outside the hospital when Indie and Lorraine walk out, Lorraine speaking in low, firm tones to Indie who nods, an empty look on her face that scares me.
“I fucked up,” Indie whispers when I get close enough to hear. “I fucked up.”
“You did not,” Lorraine says immediately. “They asked, you answered. Maybe a little too bluntly, but I think it’ll be okay, Dr. Miller.”
Indie flinches at the name and I watch in horror as her face collapses, before she buries it in her hands. Lorraine shoots me a worried look and nods to the street, “Get her back to the hotel. I’ll call later.”
I nod, already reaching for Indie.
She comes into my arms without hesitation and folds into my chest like her body is finally giving up. I order the rideshare with one hand and hold her with the other, her face tucked against my shoulder while she shakes.
On the ride back, I pull her halfway into my lap, one arm around her waist, the other hand gently pressing her head against my chest. She doesn’t speak.
She just stares out the window with tears leaking silently down her cheeks.
I can tell some of it is adrenaline, but I also know something bad happened in there.
When we get back to the hotel room, I ask if she’s hungry. She shakes her head, but I know she’s going to need the fuel so I send her to take a hot shower while I order all her safe favorites off the menu—french fries, lots of ketchup, grilled chicken salad, fruit, and a cup soup.
By the time she emerges from the bathroom, wrapped in her fluffy robe I made sure to pack, her eyes are red rimmed and I know she cried in the shower. She sits on the bed and I grab her hair brush, carefully brushing her damp hair for her as she nibbles on some french fries and sips the soup.
“Eat some of the chicken, baby,” she glances over her shoulder and looks like she wants to protest, so I pull out the big guns—I pout. “For me?”
My heart soars when her mouth quirks slightly. She takes her fork, stabs a piece of chicken, and bites into it. Pressing a kiss to her head, I continue brushing her hair with gentle hands.
When it’s done, I pull her hair over her shoulder, and press a long kiss to her neck.
She sniffles.
“They’re going to take my license,” she says, her voice wobbling.
The fear makes my blood run cold.
“They’re not taking anything without a fight,” I say quietly.
Placing the brush down, I wrap my arms around her waist, pull her back against me on the bed.
Her body is so pliable, like she doesn’t have any fight left in her, and I hate the way it makes my stomach twist. She’s surrendering.
I press my mouth to her shoulder, “I have my testimony tomorrow. Stephanie and Danielle are calling in. Phoebe is giving a statement. Dunk has the estate documents and Nana’s records.
Everyone is going to tell the truth, Indie. ”
“The truth. I don’t think it will matter, Teddy,” Indie turns toward me, tears pooling in her eyes once more.
I cradle her cheek in my hand and her eyes fall closed, her body shaking with sobs.
“They decided before I even walked into that room, Teddy. They asked me about how I grew up, because of course someone who’s experienced poverty would scam an old woman out of her money.
Of course I’m greedy and evil. Of course, I saw Ellie and smelled money… ”
My entire body tenses and I freeze. “They said what?”
“They questioned me about how I grew up,” she whispers. “I’ve never felt so… nothing.”
My heart cracks at the “Indie…”
“If I can’t be a doctor…” Her face twists, the words coming out in a horrible, choking sound. “Then I’m nothing. I’m nothing if I’m not Dr. Miller—”
“No!” I say again, firmer this time. Picking Indie up, I turn her around in my lap to face me. Her face is pinched with misery, sobs tearing through her.
“You’re everything,” I tell her, my voice breaking. “Do you hear me? You are everything, Indie. I know what becoming a doctor cost you, but you were never nothing. Never. You’re everything to me, baby…”
I wrap my arms around her and hold her steady, but she pushes away and stands from the bed.
“All that work,” she says, pacing back and forth. “All that money and time. All the nights I didn’t sleep. All the meals I skipped. All the times I told myself it would be worth it—one day no one could take it from me. And now…”
I’m grasping at straws now, shaking my head.
“Lorraine said—”
“I know what she said,” Indie says, her voice softening.
She presses the heels of her palms to her eyes, her shoulders shaking.
“But it’s not going to matter, Teddy. I’m done.
I can’t… I can’t fight this anymore. I’m so fucking tired of fighting to prove something to people who have already decided who I am… a greedy succubus.”
Rage moves through me so fast I almost can’t see.
“Then let me fight for you,” I say, standing from the bed and stopping her pacing in her tracks.
I cradle her precious face in my hands, gently lifting her face to meet my eyes once more.
My eyes trail all over the features I adore—over her tired blue eyes, her soft mouth, the little scar running through her brow now, only adding to how beautiful she is to me. “I’m going to go talk to my mother.”
Indie blinks, looking scared now. Her hands grasp my shoulders, nails digging into my muscle. Desperate, not biting. “No, Teddy—don’t, please—”
I gently shush her and give her a small smile. “I think I do, baby. But I’m asking you first.”
Indie shakes her head stubbornly, her brow furrowed. “You don’t! She won’t take it back because you ask her to. She’ll just twist it. She’ll use it. She’ll make it worse. And what if she—” Indie cuts herself off, looking unsure.
I nod, encouraging her because she has every right to question me. I’ve talked a lot in the last two years, with nothing to show for it. “Say it, Indie.”
“What if she threatens to harm herself again? What if she does what she always does…” Indie says, and she looks like she’s in pain with even asking, no matter how valid it is. “And you…”
“And I fall back under her thumb,” I finish. Indie closes her eyes and nods. I wait until she opens them again before I whisper. “I need you to do something very brave right now. Something I know is asking a lot from you, but I hope that maybe I’ve earned it.”
Indie’s chin wobbles as a tear slips from her eyes. I lean in and kiss it away, before pulling back once more.
“Teddy…”
“I’m asking you to trust me.”
Indie’s expression shifts too quickly to get a read, before she inhales a shuddering breath and lets it out.
And then, after a moment, she dips her chin.
Once.
Instead of feeling relieved, I feel everything—rage, determination, and fierce protectiveness for Indie.
“Thank you,” I rasp, leaning my forehead against hers. “Thank you, baby.”
“I trust you, Teddy,” she whispers. “I trust you.”
And I’ll fucking earn that trust.
Pressing a kiss to Indie’s soft lips, I guide her back to the bed and tuck her in. Grabbing my iPad, I put on Grey's Anatomy for her, which makes her smile softly. Wrapping myself around her from behind, I gently kiss her neck, her shoulder, any skin I can reach until I feel her breathing even out.
When I’m sure she’s asleep, I carefully ease myself out from behind her. She shifts, and I freeze, but she only sighs softly and curls into the pillow where I had been, affection hitting me at the sight of her cuddling my pillow to her chest and burying her face in it.
“I’ll be right back, baby,” and with one last kiss to Indie’s forehead, I walk out the hotel room to head to my childhood home.
A fire burning inside of me.