A wave rolls to shore and covers our feet. It’s cool but not cold. Just like it was this morning as we came down from parasailing.
“Heforgothe was allergic because my mother’s taken care of everything for him for the past too many decades,” I say quietly. “Andshedidn’t question dinner either.”
“I should’ve asked.”
“This wasn’t your fault.”
He grips me tighter like he’s holding on to me since he can’t hold on to the words and make himself believe them.
“I have a lot of secrets, Laney,” he says quietly.
“Modeling is a cover and you’re secretly a government assassin who just failed his last mission?”
“No.” He doesn’t laugh. Not even a little. “But I still don’t want to tell you.”
“Why?”
He doesn’t answer.
Silence can say so many things. I want to hug him and kiss him enough to reassure both of us, but this silence—it’s heavy.
Too heavy.
“Try me,” I whisper. “Tell me a secret.”
He shakes his head and drops one arm, then shoves half a cookie in his mouth.
The surf rolls over our feet again.
“Can we pretend I don’t have secrets?” he asks quietly, smelling like chocolate chip cookies and paradise and everything right in my world. “For one more day? I don’t want to ruin Emma’s wedding by making you mad.”
Whispering “sure” is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
Iwantto know his secrets. I want to know why he thinks they’re so bad. I want to prove to him that I don’t care, whatever it is.
Because this Theo?
The Theo who rescues cats and introduces me to parasailing and arranges meals on the fly so that his sister gets the wedding of her dreams even when he doesn’t like the man she’s marrying but respects her right to decide what she wants for herself?
Icannotbelieve this Theo has a secret so terrible that it would make me look at him any differently.
And it hurts that I haven’t earned his trust enough for him to know that.
“Your dad’s really okay?” he asks.
“Vitals are good. Benadryl’s working. My mom’s there to fuss, and the hospital staff is monitoring him too. He should be fine.”
The surf rolls up to our ankles.
“You’re my favorite part of paradise,” he whispers. “Whatever happens, I just want you to know—you’ve been my favorite.”
“Theo—”
He cuts me off with a searing kiss that takes me back over the ocean, to him telling me he wants love to be his purpose in life, that he wants loving someone to be all-consuming, all-encompassing,everything, the only thing that truly matters.
Like he chooses me.
He wantsme.
