I clear my throat and sit taller on the couch. “Hello, I was hoping to be transferred to Rupert Walsh’s room?”
“Of course, just a moment.”
The phone goes silent and then starts ringing. Hopefully he’s in his room to answer.
After two rings, his voice comes on the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey…mate,” I say, bracing for him to hang up on me.
“Theo?” he asks, his voice semi-annoyed but also surprised.
“Yeah, it’s me. I, uh, I called because you didn’t reply to my text and I wanted to?—”
“To disturb me while I’m trying to get some distance from you?”
“Rupert, come on, man. Talk to me, let’s work this out.”
“So now that I’m no longer at your beck and call, you want to work things out?”
Slightly offended, I say, “No, because you’re my friend and you’re upset, I want to work things out.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
I can feel him wanting to hang up, so I quickly say, “I can come visit you, we can spend the weekend together.” I know I have fishing with Renley, but I’m sure she would give that up so I can work things out with Rupert.
“No, thank you. Not in the mood for your company.”
What the actual hell? Where is all of this animosity coming from? I don’t think I’ve ever been more confused.
“Rupert, we’ve never gotten in a fight before. I…I don’t understand what’s going on.”
“Of course you wouldn’t; you weren’t listening every time I mentioned wanting to spend time with you, just like Kitty said.”
Uh…what?
“What do you mean ‘like Kitty said’?” I ask as I stand from the couch and dig my hand into my hair. “Did you talk to her about me?” And every time he mentioned wanting to spend time with me? When did that happen?
“I talked to her aboutme,” he emphasizes. “Not everything is about you, Theo. Now, I would like some peace, so I’m hanging up. See you on Sunday for the roast.”
And then the line goes dead. I pull my phone away from my ear, staring at the screen for a few seconds, my mind racing,because what the hell did Kitty say to him that could possibly break up a friendship that has been strong for decades?
Chapter Forty-Five
RENLEY
I glance back one more time and then move up the stairs to Theo’s porch before lightly knocking on the door.
It takes him a few seconds, but he quickly opens and I expect him to pull me in and press me up against the closed door, but instead he hangs his head as I make my way in. When the door clicks shut, I turn toward him and notice the defeated set of his shoulders and the sorrowful pinch to his brow. Immediately, I know the conversation didn’t go well.
Wanting to tread carefully, I ask, “Did you get in touch with Rupert?”
He pushes his hand through his thick, brown locks and says, “I did.”
I take a step forward and link our hands together, wanting to let him know that I’m here for him. “How did it go?”
“Not great,” he answers and then blows out a heavy breath. “Can we just go upstairs?”
“Sure,” I say, concern pulsing through me, because this is not the Theo I know and love to be around. He’s not subdued. He’s not quiet.
