She sniffed and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “Yes, you should have. You’re right. It’ll cost less if I let you pay them off now.” She held up a finger. “But you have to let me payyouback.”
His grin only widened. “No, that’s not how partnerships work. You won’t owe me anything. And besides, you’ve already paid me back a thousandfold, as far as I’m concerned. I oweyou. Your college education is nothing in comparison to what you’ve done for me.”
Her frown deepened. “But that’s—”
“Then consider it the rest of the scholarship youshouldhavehad—the one you had at the start, and would have kept if you’d only had the right help. Which you deserved, by the way. Why do others deserve help, and you don’t?” He brushed the hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ears. “Think of it as a scholarship from the Redmond Family Foundation.”
“That’s not a real thing.”
“Yes, it is.” He raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget that my family has a charitable foundation? I don’t joke when it comes to money. And besides, what’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours. Your debt is mine. My wealth is yours. We’re partners. That’s how it works.”
Her face broke, and she buried it again in his shoulder while she cried. He let her sob on top of him for a while before carrying her upstairs to bed.
Theo was never more pleased or relieved to see an account paid down to zero in his entire life.
It was sixmonths ago that he didn’t even see his scar anymore.
He realized it while he was shaving. He was looking in the mirror, tilting his head this way and that, trying to get rid of every bit of stubble for Audrey. She liked running her hands along his smooth skin in the mornings, drawing her lips along his freshly shaven jawline, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of his aftershave. He liked the way it made him feel.
And it was then he noticed that…
He hadn’t noticed it.
It had been weeks since he’d even really paid the scar much mind. Months, even.
It was long healed, completely closed, and had thinned considerably, given all the treatments he’d gotten. Now it was nothing but a fine, white line slashing across his face—and he was already paleenough to where it wasn’t particularly distinguishable. Even his eye opened almost as wide as it originally did, the muscles and sinews knit back together, the nerves mostly healed. Only a slight bit of asymmetry in his cheekbones betrayed the titanium plate lurking beneath.
Theo set the razor down on the edge of the sink and stared at his reflection in wonder.
There he was.
He never thought the day would come when he’d see himself again.
But it had.
And it happened so slowly, he didn’t even notice.
Because he was too happy to care about something so small and so insignificant as a scar.
It was threemonths and sixteen days since Theo entered another piece into the annual charity auction. And it was three months and sixteen days since he beat his own record and raised over five million dollars for the domestic violence shelter he’d failed a few years ago.
He’d wanted to do better for them, so he tried again.
Their director fainted when she heard the news.
Maybe he shouldn’t have kept it a surprise.
He was going to have to change how he did things.
He couldn’t have people hurting themselves over a bit of art.
Theo kept goingto therapy.
Weekly, at first. Then once every two weeks. And then, one day, Amelia recommended that he go down to once a month.
They were running out of things to talk about.
And over time, the grip his anxiety—the demon who lived in his stomach—had on him loosened.
