“Delicious,” he said, forking another into his mouth. “Would you like something other than water?” His voice was just loud enough for Mom to hear, and from her small smile, she must have thought he was already looking out for me.
“I’m fine, thanks,” I said, lifting my glass and taking another sip.
The rest of dinner crawled by, every course dragged out because Cordelia insisted on explaining the intricacies of each dish, the rarity of the ingredients, how long they took to prep, their remote source. As much as I hated the woman, she knew how to throw a party, and the smells wafting off some of the plates were so delicious that I started salivating, even after finishing the first half of my sandwich. I hesitated to eat the second part, waiting to see how it would settle. Gastritis made your stomach swell so much that you had to be careful. Consume too much, and you were in for a world full of hurt, or destined to throw up, and I didn’t relish the idea of having to race out of here with my hand over my mouth.
From the way Theo kept glancing my way, I knew he was getting antsy about me finishing my food, and it was in that moment I realized something: We were each other’s perfect tormentors. Theo had what appeared to be a compulsive need to see me eat. Meanwhile, I literally couldn’t, and him fixating on it was starting to stress me out. If I’d been a religious person, or had any belief in fate, I’d say that we’d been paired together as punishment for our past sins.
Finally, dessert was served, and I was forced to sit in tortured silence while the people around me dug into delicate-looking soufflés, highly intricate patisserie, and an absolutely decadent flourless torte.
“Not even a single bite?” Theo asked, leaning in.
I shook my head, a sudden, unexpected swell of self-pity overwhelming me. Would I ever be able to live a normal life again? Or was I doomed to an existence of having to go without? It felt so fucking unfair that everyone else could drink and eat to their heart’s content without ever having to worry about how much it might hurt, while I was forced to subsist on the blandest diet imaginable and wasstillin pain.
Theo must have seen something of my true feelings on my face, because he straightened up instead of making whatever shitty comment he’d prepared.
After dinner, we retired to the ballroom, where Cordelia gave a big speech about supporting a great cause. Unlike most fundraisers, Cordy didn’t plan an auction or any other fanfare. She simply asked guests to get out their checkbooks and donate.
“She didn’t even mention her husband,” Theo said, his voice low.
“I told you she hated him.”
The tables here were smaller, round, and didn’t have assigned seating, so people sat wherever they wanted. We were still with Mom and Dad, but now Richard had joined us, along with the Herdwicks.
“You two planning on dancing?” Richard asked.
We glanced his way. Shit. I didn’t know if Theocoulddance. A big, cumbersome guy like him?
“I’m still working up the courage to ask her,” he said.
Richard tipped his glass in our direction. “You should do it while you can. None of us are promised a tomorrow.”
Mom swiveled toward me, expression wry. “With that bleak declaration, how could you say no?”
Richard chuckled with good humor. He was used to my mom’s bullshit.
Theo’s eyes met mine in challenge, and then the bastard offered me his hand. Goddamn it, I didnotwant to dance with him. Three minutes plastered together while a room full of people watched in not-so-silent judgment? Pass.
“There’s hardly anyone on the dance floor,” I said, looking for an escape route.
“That’s only because they’re waiting for a good-looking young couple to lure them out there,” Mom said, giving my shoulder a light shove.
I sent her a look that promised retribution.
She grinned, seemingly having the time of her life torturing one of her children.
Theo used my distraction to slip his hand into mine and pull me up. Oh, god. This was happening.
“Smile, Sunshine,” he said, leading me from the table.
I gave him my brightest smile, talking through my teeth. “Call me that again, and I will stomp on all your toes.”
His own smile ratcheted up a notch. “Do it, and I’ll return the favor.”
Inwardly, I winced, imagining all that weight coming down on my feet.
He led me to the middle of the dance floor and eased me toward him. I focused my eyes on his to distract myself from the fact that we were now the center of attention.
The music started. Annoyingly, Theo pulled me into an effortless waltz, practically gliding over the floor, and suddenly my attention went into not fucking up the steps. It had been a long time since I’d done this, and I was out of practice.
