16 | Fifth Weekend Last kiss
The rest of the evening crawled by.
I was quiet. I knew I was being quiet. But I couldn’t shake what Marina had said.
Those trips are pretty epic when Theo goes solo.
Was he planning to go alone?
Was he planning to bring someone else?
Was I supposed to care?
We were fake dating. This wasn’t real. He could do whatever he wanted.
Except it felt real.
Sitting on his lap last night felt real. Waking up in his arms felt real. And the idea of him going to Napa with someone else made me feel sick.
I was refilling my wine glass in the kitchen when David appeared beside me.
“Tessa,” he said warmly. “I wanted to thank you again. For today. With Andrew.”
“Oh. It was nothing, really—”
“It wasn’t nothing.” He smiled. “Theo texted from the ER. Doctor said you did an excellent job with the bandaging. Probably saved him from a nasty infection.”
Something warm settled in my chest. “I’m glad he’s okay.”
“We all are.” David paused, studying me. “It’s good that Theodore has you.”
I blinked. “Has me?”
“Well—” He gestured with his wine glass. “That he’s with someone. Finally. He’s been alone for a long time.”
“Oh.”
“Very dedicated to work. Which has been great for the firm, don’t get me wrong. But—” He shook his head. “Sometimes I worry it comes at a cost.”
“What kind of cost?”
“The personal kind.” He took a sip of wine. “Theodore’s a bit of a lone wolf. Always has been. Brilliant at what he does, but… isolated. I’m glad he’s finally making time for something other than spreadsheets and client calls.”
I laughed lightly. “But settled down looks better for clients, am I right?”
He didn’t laugh. Just looked at me with quiet curiosity.
“Not that much. Really.”
“I—I thought you wanted him to settle down. For work.”
David’s eyebrows rose. “That would be highly inappropriate.”
A beat.
I stared at him.
“If anything,” David continued almost absently, “the workaholic bachelor version of Theodore is more valuable to the firm. Always available. No conflicts with family obligations or weekends.”
He paused.
“In the last few years, he’s only taken a few days off—went to some chess tournament with an old friend.”
He looked at me directly.
“But he’s too good of a person for me to actually want that for him.”
My chest felt tight.
“I should get back,” David said. “Linda will wonder where I’ve gone. But really—thank you. For today. And for whatever you’re doing for Theodore. He seems… lighter. Happier. I haven’t seen that in a long time.”
He walked away.
I stood there in the kitchen, wine glass trembling slightly in my hand.
Theo had lied to me.
My mind moved through the past weeks. The coffee outside my clinic. The cabin invitation. The way he’d held me last night like I was something precious.
I didn’t have an answer.
Just a feeling in my stomach and too many questions I wasn’t ready to ask.
----
By ten, everyone had drifted off to bed.
I waited for Theo. When he stepped out onto the back porch, I was already there, leaning against the railing. The air was cold enough to bite, the sky clear, stars scattered like salt.
Like that first night.
“You look like something’s bothering you,” he said.
“It’s nothing.”
“Tessa.”
I turned to look at him. “Can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
I hesitated.
He didn’t need me for this.
The thought sat heavy in my chest. The whole point of this—of me—was supposed to be practical. Useful. Something he needed. And David had made it sound like the opposite. Like Theo had been perfectly fine without… any of this.
Without me.
Not that.
Not tonight.
I wasn’t ready for answers.
“Is there something weird going on with the women at your work?”
Theo went still. “What do you mean?”
“I mean—” I shifted my weight, arms folding loosely across my stomach. “I know this is fake. We both know that. But do they?”
His brow furrowed.
“Because they’re acting like I’m temporary,” I went on. “Like they’re just… waiting.” A small exhale. “Marina mentioned Vanessa. The trips.”
“Tessa—”
“I’m not imagining it, am I?”
His jaw tightened. “No.”
“So what is it?”
He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling under his breath. “I didn’t think—” He stopped. Reset. “I’m not interested in them.”
“I don’t think they got that memo.”
A beat.
His shoulders dropped slightly, something shifting in his expression—quieter, more serious.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For not seeing it.” His gaze stayed on mine. “For not realizing it could make you uncomfortable.”
“It doesn’t—”
“It does,” he cut in, calm but firm. “Or you wouldn’t be out here asking me about it.”
I didn’t answer that.
The silence stretched, thinner than before.
“I’ve never had to think about it like this,” he added, quieter now. “That something… casual, or the way people act around me, could actually matter to someone.” A pause. “Could hurt someone.”
Something in my chest tightened.
“It’s not a big deal,” I said, softer than I meant to.
His eyes flicked over my face like he didn’t quite believe me.
“Still,” he said. “I’ll handle it.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet.” A small exhale. “But I will.”
Another beat.
He stepped closer.
“Maybe the problem is they don’t believe us,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean—” I glanced at his hand, then back up at him. “We’re not exactly convincing.”
His mouth curved slightly. “No?”
I shook my head. “We agreed on certain things.”
“Like what?”
I held his gaze. “Like kissing.”
The word hung there.
Simple. Direct. Too late to take back.
“We haven’t even done that,” I added, quieter.
Something shifted in his expression—subtle, but there.
His eyes dropped to my mouth.
Then back up.
“You want to fix that?” he asked.
My pulse kicked. “For appearances,” I said, a little too quickly. “Obviously.”
“Obviously.”
He closed the distance this time.
His hand found my arm—light at first, then steadier, fingers sliding down to my elbow. My breath hitched before I could stop it.
“Like this?” he murmured.
“It’s a start.”
I lifted my hand, placed it against his chest. Solid. Warm. His heartbeat steady under my palm.
He covered my hand with his, holding it there for a second longer than necessary.
“Optics,” I said, because the silence was suddenly too loud.
His thumb brushed over my knuckles.
“Right,” he said quietly.
Then he leaned in.
Not fully. Not the way I expected.
Just enough that his lips brushed mine—barely there. A soft, controlled press. Gone almost as soon as it started.
My breath caught.
He didn’t move away completely. Stayed close, his forehead almost touching mine.
“That should look convincing enough from a distance,” he said, breathing heavily.
For a second, I didn’t understand what I was feeling.
Then it settled.
Cold.
“Oh.”
I stepped back.
Just a fraction.
But enough.
Theo’s expression shifted, like he caught it—too late.
“Tessa—”
“It’s fine.” I wrapped my arms around myself again. “That was… convincing.”
Too convincing, apparently.
I turned toward the house.
“It’s late.”
He didn’t stop me this time.
We went upstairs in silence.
Claire was still in the hallway, leaning against the wall, watching us like she’d been waiting.
Good.
That was the point.
Wasn’t it?
In the room, everything felt… off.
Too quiet.
I grabbed my bag, pulled out my pajamas without looking at him, and disappeared into the bathroom.
I stared at myself in the mirror for a second.
Then changed.
Shorts. Tank. Thinner than I usually wore. Not something I’d planned. Just—what my hand landed on.
When I came back out, Theo was by the window.
He didn’t turn.
Didn’t look.
“Bathroom’s free,” I said.
“Thanks.”
He went in. Closed the door.
I stood there for a second longer than necessary. Then climbed into bed. My side. As far from his as possible.
When he came out, the lights went off almost immediately.
No comment.
Not a glance.
Nothing.
The mattress shifted as he got in. I stared at the ceiling with a tight jaw and a head full of questions.
Optics.
I turned onto my side, back to him, pulling the blanket higher.
“Next weekend,” he said quietly into the dark. “We should plan the finale.”
My chest tightened.
“Actually…” I swallowed. “I think this should be our last weekend.”
Silence.
Then: “What?”
“There’s the party, but—” I stared at the wall. “I don’t want to lie to my parents. Not like that. They’d believe it. And then when it ends…”
I trailed off.
“They’d get attached,” he finished.
“Yeah.”
A long pause.
“Of course,” he said finally. Neutral. Careful. “I understand.”
“After tomorrow, we’re done.”
“Right.”
Flat.
“I can still drive you,” he added after a moment. “To the party.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.” A pause. “I want to.”
Something in my chest shifted. Small. Annoyingly soft.
“Okay.”
Silence again.
I closed my eyes.
Didn’t sleep. Didn’t move.
Time passed—quiet, slow, impossible to measure.
Then—
his arm.
Sliding around my waist.
Careful. Slow. Like he wasn’t sure if I’d pull away.
I didn’t.
His hand settled low on my stomach. Warm and steady.
My breath stuttered.
His chest pressed lightly against my back.
Closer now.
Not careful anymore.
I stared into the dark, heart pounding.
Was he awake?
Was this—
I couldn’t tell.
His breathing was even.
Too even.
And then—so soft I almost thought I imagined it—
his lips brushed my hair.
A pause.
Gone.
My throat tightened.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t turn.
Didn’t say anything.
Because if I did—
I’d have to ask.
And I wasn’t ready to hear the answer.
So I stayed still.
Pretended.
Let him hold me like it didn’t mean anything.
Even though it did.
Even though I knew—lying there in the dark—that I wouldn’t forget that moment.
Not the almost kiss.
Not the way he held me after.
And not the difference between the two.
????
Was Theo’s kiss really about optics—or is he just as afraid of the answer as Tessa is?
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