Stepping inside, I closed the door gently behind me, the soft click of it shutting the only sound in the quiet house. It smelled like him—earthy and rich, the scent swirling around me, filling my chest. I glanced around, everything in its usual place, neat but lived-in. The low light from the setting sun cast a golden-orange glow across the walls, bathing the room in warmth.
He wasn’t here.
I made my way down the hallway, my heart picking up the slightest beat as I approached his room. The sound of running water coming from the bathroom reached me as I turned the door handle. He must be in the shower.
I pushed open the door to his bedroom, and the sight of it pulled me in. His curtains were drawn back, allowing the last rays of the day to spill across the floor. His bed was neatly made, the dark sheets smoothed and tucked, the pillow resting untouched, almost too perfect. His computers, normally alive with activity, were shut off, their screens blank.
It was peaceful. Calm.
I breathed in deeply, my chest swelling with the familiar scent of him that seemed to linger in the very air of the room. Every inch of this space, every detail, was him. I could feel him everywhere, even without him being physically present. My heart beat faster, full of him, consumed by the thought that any moment, he’d step out of the bathroom, and I could finally fall into his arms.
This was where I wanted to be. Where I needed to be.
The sound of an email notification pulled me from my thoughts. I fished my phone out of my pocket, the cracked screenlighting up with the new message. My heart did a little flip as I opened it, scanning through the lines.
It was official—I would start work on November 17th.
I blinked at the screen, still pinching myself. It didn’t feel real. After everything, after all the chaos that had been my life, I was finally getting the job I’d always dreamed of. The kind of job I never thought I’d actually get.
But the excitement was short-lived. As reality settled in, another thought hit me hard. If I was starting on the seventeenth, that meant I needed to start packing. I had to leave South Highland.
My heart sank.
The job was in Melbourne. A big city with millions of people. A whole new chapter. And I couldn’t help but wonder what Theon’s plan was. Would he come with me?
I stared at my phone, the email still open, but my mind was miles away.
I thought I would wait for him to be done, but I didn’t have the patience anymore. I took off my clothes and dropped my phone, pushing the bathroom door open. He was facing the wall under the shower. I joined him, stepping in behind as I wrapped my arms around his body. He tensed, then eased into me slowly.
Warm water came down on me, drenching my hair and sluicing down my skin. I let it rain on us quietly before I broke the silence.
“I’m starting work on the seventeenth,” I murmured, my heart in my throat.
“I know,” Theon replied without missing a beat.
My pulse quickened, my fingers tightening slightly against his skin. “Are you coming with me?”
Slowly, he turned in my arms, his hands gently cupping my face as his lips claimed mine, gently, lovingly, the shower rainingon us. When he pulled back, his dark eyes searched mine, beautiful and unwavering.
“Did you really think I’d let you go alone?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “I bought an apartment for us in Melbourne. It’s already furnished, everything we’ll need is there. All that’s left is for us to move in.”
His words hit me like a wave of relief, wrecking me with a force I wasn’t ready for. My chest tightened, and I blinked back tears as I stared at him, overwhelmed by everything—the thought of us moving together, staying together. I didn’t know how I’d gotten so lucky. How in just a matter of weeks, everything had shifted so drastically, for the better. My heart was overflowing with emotions, the load of it almost too much to bear.
My gaze drifted downward, catching on his chest. There, etched into his skin, were the twisted branches of the tree tattoo, stark and leafless, save for the one lone green leaf.
I traced my finger around it, the faint line of the ink warm under my touch. “What does it mean?” I asked softly, lifting my gaze to his, hoping for an answer.
He watched me for a moment. “It’s you,” he finally said, voice low and steady. “That leaf, it’s you. My tree was never capable of growing anything, it was boring and lifeless...until you. You’re the only thing that’s ever made sense. The only thing that’s ever been real. The one thing I can’t let go of, no matter how hard I try. The stubborn, impossible leaf that grew on my dry branch. You’re my impossible.”
His words...my eyes welled up again. Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him, soft and lingering, pouring every bit of emotion into that kiss.
When I finally pulled back, I pressed my lips against his, barely a breath between us as I whispered, “I love you.”
He was silent for a heartbeat, his expression unreadable. And then, in the quietest voice, he whispered back, “I love you, too.”
31
THEON
