He brings the life to my life. The color. The pizzazz.
He brings the joy and smiles.
So I’m feeling really out of my element and unsure how to handle this.
He leads me upstairs and right to his room, his eyes casting toward Rupert’s room for a moment before he brings me to his bed.
Since I already brushed my teeth and dressed in my pajamas, I’m ready for bed, and it seems as though he is as well, because he climbs under the covers and then holds them open for me. I slip into bed next to him, my back to his chest, and after he situates the comforter, he loops his arm around me, pulling me flush against his body.
I curl my fingers around his and snuggle into his pillow, getting comfortable.
After a few moments of our breath synching and his grip growing tighter, I ask, “Are you not going to want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to say.”
The tone of his voice is startling, like it’s completely devoid of all emotion, and that’s not like him. If anything, he has way too much life in his voice.
“Theo,” I say softly, letting my thumb glide over the back of his hand. “When I was struggling, you were there, asking me to talk about my feelings. I want you to know that I can do the same thing. I’m here, ready to listen if you need it.”
“You don’t want to hear this.”
“But I do.”
“No, you don’t,” he says in a stern voice. “It will only infuriate you.”
Completely confused, I ask, “How would it infuriate me?”
“Just trust me,” he says, clearly not wanting to tell me what happened. “Just don’t push it, okay?”
But I want to.
I want to take his obvious pain away.
I want to help him solve things with Rupert so I can see that smile of his again.
But I also know that when I was having a hard time that one day when Aunt Kitty didn’t show up to help with the storage closet, he didn’t push me. He just accepted the fact that I was upset.
And I know that’s the same way I should treat this situation, even though it pains me.
Attempting to lighten the mood, I ask, “This feud between you, it doesn’t involve installing a toilet, does it?”
The smallest of chuckles rattles his chest as his lips find my head and he kisses me. “That’s exactly what it is.”
“I thought so. It will be okay. Been there, done that. It will be resolved, I just know it.”
“Thank you,” he says softly, kissing me again.
And I really hope I’m right, because now I can’t imagine seeing Theo without that teasing glint in his eye and that devilish smile.
I stretch my arms above my head, then reach behind me for Theo but come up short when I realize his side of the bed is cold.
I sit up in bed and glance around, and when I see no sign of him, I slip out of bed and adjust my pajamas before heading down the stairs, each creak announcing my arrival.
But Theo isn’t in the living room.
Nor is he in the kitchen.
“Theo?” I call out, glancing around. The house isn’t big, so if he doesn’t respond, it means he’s not here. I decide to call him one more time. “Theo?”
