40. Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty
Now
Nobody follows me.
It’s what I asked for, and it’s something I should be used to by now, but as I walk away from the Hoyts’, I find myself listening for footsteps.
I stop by Quinton’s car and rap lightly on the tinted window until he rolls it down.
“All good?” he asks.
“All good,” I lie. “You can go. Thanks.”
He gives me a two-finger salute, taking my word for it. I turn the corner, headed toward my family’s old house. Up until now, I haven’t seen it; purposefully or not, Theo has drivenaround the other way whenever we’ve come to see his parents.
Now I trudge up the cracked sidewalk toward the spot where my world first began to fall apart. I’m not filled with dread and anxiety, like the day I returned to Amity; I’m oddly detached. It’s not like seeing the house again is going to be any worse than the situation I just walked out of.
Our front yard, with its tall oak tree, comes into view at the end of the street. As I draw closer, I start to make out more details: the yard is littered with toys, there’s a service truck parked out front, the white paint that was peeling ten years ago now appears to have fallen off in sheets.
When I get to the sidewalk in front of our neighbors’ house—and it is the same people; I recognize their Oldsmobile—I stop, cross my arms, and stare. I think about my memories from that house, and most of what comes to mind are arguments, slammed doors, tense silence.
We never were a very happy family.
It’s not our house anymore, and the longer I stand there and stare at it, the more that truth settles deep in my bones. The closing of the store devastated me for years because it ended both the life I knew and the life I imagined. Now, looking at the house I grew up in, I have a realization: that life was fleeting to begin with. My parents' divorce was inevitable. Brock was always going to distance himself from the rest of us. Walk a Mile may have been successful decades ago, but the fact is that most stores like it don’t survive these days.
Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter who raised the rent or took the money. It doesn’t matter that Theo and I left when we did or that my parents took me to Raleigh. Things changed because they were always going to, and even if that summer had gone entirely differently, my life would have become unrecognizable anyway.
I take one more long look at the house. The front door opens. A woman with a toddler on her hip steps out, laughing, closely followed by a man in coveralls. That’s my cue to turn my back, and I walk away, leaving the house to the people who belong there.
***
The next place I go is the pond. It’s a good half hour away on foot, and by the time I collapse on the dock, I’m dripping in sweat.
I reach for my phone, groaning when I find my pockets empty. I don’t remember having it at the Hoyts’ house; it must be in Theo’s truck. Fantastic. Based on the sun, I figure it must be getting close to three. We should be getting close to Wilmington by now.
I take my shoes off and dip my feet into the pond, then lay back and close my eyes against the hot sun. My shoulders and ears are already feeling tender. As a kid, I hated the smell of sunscreen and often came home sunburned. Then the doctor who did my surgeries introduced me to an expensive dermatological skincare line that I followed religiously for years—after all, I’d taken the time to fix my nose and birthmark; I might as well keep my skin looking good. Being out here at the pond, unprotected, feels like its own kind of rebellion.
I only realize that I’ve drifted off when movement on the dock vibrates beneath my back, jerking me awake. Startled, I jolt upright; by the time I twist around to see who it is, my sixth sense for Theo’s presence has kicked in, and I already know.
He stands a few paces behind me with his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his shorts. His hat hangs off his belt, but his hair is flat from wearing it, stuck to his forehead with sweat.
“I found you,” he tells me.
“It’s about time.”
Theo laughs quietly, taking a hesitant step forward. I scoot over, silently granting permission for him to sit beside me. He slips off his shoes and carefully tucks the socks inside; then he sinks down next to me, his feet dangling off the end of the dock with mine.
“I’m mad at you,” I tell him, just to get it out there.
“I know. I’m sorry. So are Mom and Dad.”
He sounds sincere, but I don’t let him off the hook that easily. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“This is going to sound like a cop out,” he says, and I fix him with a preemptive glare, “but I honestly didn’t think much about it. And then when I did, it didn’t seem that important.”
“Why wouldn’t it be important?”
“I don’t know, Nina,” he says with a shrug. “It's not like it would have fixed your relationship with your mom.”
I look down into the water. Our feet look distorted, side-by-side. “No.”
“Plus, the fact that she was the reason for the rent increase almost seemed worse than her taking the money.” Theo runs a hand through his damp hair, moving it back off his forehead. It sticks out in twelve different directions. “I didn’t think it was worth dredging up, with all the other stuff you’ve been going through, but I was obviously wrong.”
I snort. “You think?”
“I’m sorry,” he says again.
There’s no reason for him to keep apologizing. He’s already said it twice, and I can tell he feels bad. I focus on what’s really bothering me about this. “I just can’t believe Cecil would do that.”
“I was mad at him for a long time after I found out,” Theo tells me. Our elbows brush, and neither of us moves away. “I started to blame him for you being taken to Raleigh. But eventually I realized that the store wasn’t going to survive anyway, and Kelly was never going to let you be with me. If it hadn’t happened the way it did, I think the same things would have happened some other way.”
It’s essentially the same conclusion I came to earlier. I hum in agreement.
“Everybody was just fucking desperate,” Theo adds. “You and I were too wrapped up in each other to notice how bad it was.”
“I’ve never been wrapped up in you in my life.”
“So who was the girl in my bed yelling ‘don’t stop’ at the top of her lungs last night?”
I kick my foot into the pond. He laughs, shifting away as the water splashes his bare legs, and then clears his throat. “Anyway, I hope you can forgive me. I asked Quinton, and he said that if you want to stay somewhere else, he and Sage have a guest room and--”
“What?” I interrupt. “What are you talking about?”
“If you don’t want to stay with me anymore,” he clarifies. “I wouldn’t blame you.”
“Do you want me to move out?” I ask, my voice small.
“No.” Theo immediately shakes his head. “No. Of course not. I want you there as long as you want to be there.”
I look out over the pond, at the trees towering over us on the other side. The last time I was here, Theo and I held hands and jumped off this dock. Together. And although I’m not sure of all the things I want, I know that I do want that .
“I love you,” I tell him. Now that I’ve gotten in the habit of saying it again, it comes out so easily, as if those words were created solely to fall from my lips to his ears. “I want to be with you.”
He watches me carefully. “But?”
“But I don’t know what else I want,” I admit. “I know we had this conversation before, and I know you said that was okay. But Theo, I really don’t know if I want to be in Amity forever, or just for right now. I don’t know if I’ll ever want kids. I don’t know if my life will end up fitting into yours.”
Theo touches the back of my hand; instinctively, I turn it over so we’re palm-to-palm, threading my fingers through his. “Can I make a suggestion?” he asks.
I nod.
“What if we stopped worrying about your life and my life,” he says, “and figure out our life?”
“Explain,” I say, my throat thick.
With his free hand, Theo reaches up to trace my cheekbone, and I feel the electricity in each notch of my spine. “There’s never going to be anything that I want more than I want you, Nina. I love you so much—so much —and I missed you every single day we were apart. I never want to miss you again. Anything I might have to sacrifice to make that happen is worth it to me.”
I attempt to smile at him, but it’s weakened by the fact that my chin is quivering embarrassingly. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure .”
I lean in and kiss him. His lips are salty with sweat. We both desperately need a shower. Even so, I feel the same as I did on this same dock all that time ago: like I'm flying.
When Theo draws back, he murmurs against my mouth: “Wilmington? Or home?"
"How about both?"
"Wilmington now," he confirms, "then you come home with me."
Come home with me. I didn't even realize until this very moment how long I've waited to hear those words .
"We'll build something together." Theo frames my face in his palms, his forehead hot against mine. "You want to?"
And although I don't know anything, I do know the answer to that.
"Yes."