Chapter 31

Standing in front of Theo's door has never felt so daunting, and knocking on it has never made my heart race the way it is right now. I can hear it thundering in my ears, and I take a deep breath to try to steady myself. It's proving difficult, and my breath hitches in my throat when he opens the door slightly with narrowed eyes, only his face in view, hiding his body behind the door.

Is he naked?

With someone else?

Did he already move on?

Oh, shit.

"What are you doing here, Ms. Thomas?"

Since when are we on a last name basis? My eyes fill with tears as I clear my throat. Only there's no sympathy on his face; it's still hard as stone. Unwavering. His eyes are cold and detached. "I came to apologize."

He laughs. "You're two weeks too late."

"Please, Theo." I put my hand on the door and push slightly. "Let me in. Please."

Theo narrows his eyes again, but steps aside to let me in. Instead of acknowledging me, he turns and walks toward the couch. He's shirtless, and with his shoulders bunched up and his body tense, his muscles ripple in his back as he moves. And then he sits, legs spread wide like he's commanding the room. He gestures for me to get on with it, and I take a deep breath, walking toward him and stopping right in front of his bare feet.

"Theo, I'm sorry." I hold back tears, taking a deep breath. Emotion clogs my throat, and I speak past the lump in it. "I want you back."

"I knew you were going to do this." He chuckles. "I don't know why—but I just knew. That you were going to break my heart, and then realize that I'm good for you. Then you were going to regret it and come back. But none of it was real to you, Bailey. You just dumped me like trash. So you know what—no. You hurt me too much."

"Theo, please." This time, tears stream down my cheeks. He's being so cold, and it's so unlike him that it's like a punch to the gut. I get on my knees in front of him, my hands on his thighs right above his own, and when I feel his skin against mine, it's like a zap of electricity running through my body. But he pulls away too quickly, forcefully even. "You've changed my life. I see it; I always have. I was just too scared to take a leap of faith and?—"

"And now you aren't?" He chuckles. "Bailey?—"

"You loved me when I couldn't love myself, Theo. And for that, I'm grateful. It opened my eyes to the fact that I need to believe more in myself so I can believe more in you. I'm doing the work, baby. I've applied at the cancer ward?—"

"You did what?"

Emotion flickers in his eyes, something like sadness.

"You opened my eyes." I take a deep breath. "You showed me I needed to change it. I went back to the cancer ward and spent time with those little kids. And it was life-changing. I wanted a new specialty, remember? Something that would make me happy? And I found it there that day. They gave me the job yesterday."

"Congratulations." Theo clears his throat. "That's great, Bailey."

"Please, Theo," I beg him, hugging his waist, my tears soaking his sweatpants. He doesn't touch me, but I can feel him breathing heavily against me. "Please forgive me."

"No, Bailey."

"Give me seven days." I pull away and look up at him. "Seven days, and I'll convince you that this is real. That's all I'm asking for."

"Seven days?" His brows furrow. "I don't know, Bailey?—"

"Please?"I beg him, "I love you."

This is a crucial moment—the one where he makes his choice: Stay or leave, break my heart all over again, or put it back together.

Theo's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, but he doesn't move. "Say it again."

"I. Love. You." His brows furrow, and his lips thin. "I love you so much." I smile, but it turns wobbly. "I'm so sorry I hurt you. I never should've left. When you told me to come back to bed, I should've—I'm sorry. I really am, baby. Please forgive me."

"And if I do?" he asks me quietly, tears brimming in his eyes. "If I forgive you, then what?"

"That's up to you." I glance down, fidgeting. "If you forgive me…we can be whatever you want."

"Anything?" There's hope in his voice, and I peer up at him again. "Whatever I want?"

"I'll do anything you want." My bottom lip trembles, and I clamp it down between my teeth, fresh tears spilling down my face. "You're everything to me, Theo."

"So start right now."

"Right now?" I ask him, stunned. "W-what do you want to do?"

"Whatever it is you were going to do to convince me."

I smile, "Go get dressed for the cold."

Fifteen minutes later, we're standing in front of my piece of shit car, and I hold my breath as he opens the driver's side door for me. Even when he's pissed off at me, he can't help but be a gentleman.

"I'm sorry about my car," I tell him, grimacing.

"What about it?" He frowns, clearly confused.

"It's not fancy like yours." My lips purse. "It's kind of a piece of shit."

"What did I tell you about me already?" He asks with a sigh. "I don't care about material things like you think I do. Sure, I drive a nice car, but I have an image to uphold. I don't splurge on unnecessary things. That's not how I was raised. And your car? It has never bothered me or embarrassed me. I don't feel any type of way about it."

I nod slowly, forcing myself to believe him and smile. "Get in, then."

The drive is silent as he stares out the window, not once looking at me. His body is tense, and the air in the car is thick and hard to breathe. The silence is killing me, but I don't fill it with nonsense. He clearly doesn't want to interact with me right now, not in this confined space. I can't say that I blame him. I know I've hurt him, that much is clear. He has purple bags under his beautiful blue eyes and looks like a shell of himself.

I did that.

Regret turns my stomach, but I don't have much time to think about it as I arrive at the skating rink. He looks over at me with confusion, and I give him a small smile, pulling into a parking space. Cheyenne said I could free skate whenever as long as I give the lady at the reception desk her name, and I'm going to take advantage of it right now. She has thankfully given me private lessons, and I've improved a lot in the last few weeks. I guess that's what happens when you're not working six days a week. You have time for self-care. Now, I wouldn't say skating is my favorite thing to do, but it's growing on me.

"What are we doing here?" he asks softly.

"I'm giving you lessons." I shrug, my cheeks heating.

"You," He laughs. "Are you giving me lessons? Bailey?—"

"Oh, hush, Theo." I roll my eyes. "I know I suck, but it will be fun."

"Alright." He grins. "Let's see what you got."

After speaking with the receptionist and getting skates, we're finally on the ice. I'm no longer wobbly, and I stand on steady legs. When I glide, Theo's eyebrows rise. I skate toward him, stopping just in time before colliding with him, and he grins.

"Wow, you really did improve."

"I wouldn't say I'm the best." I shrug and wink. "Although I'm pretty close."

"Definitely close." His smile is wide as he looks at me, and for the first time since I got to him this morning, he seems happy. There's a twinkle in his eye that wasn't there before, and I turn around before he sees me getting emotional.

We skate side by side for a while, not close enough to touch, and yet I crave it. So I do the only logical thing—I close the distance between us and grab his hand, interlacing our fingers. He leaves them loose, but when I squeeze his hand, he returns it, tightening his fingers.

My heart stumbles in my chest, and it takes everything in me not to throw myself into his arms again and beg him to forgive me. But this is nice, this is fine. I can live with how things are right now as long as there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

Music begins to play from the speakers—Beautiful Things by Benson Boone—and I get in front of him and attempt to skate backwards by moving my butt from side to side. This makes him laugh, and he throws his head back as he does it. It's like music to my ears, and I want to wrap my arms around him and bury my face in the crook of his neck. I want to feel his body against me as it vibrates with his happiness. I want him to be mine again. Mine and only mine.

"Dance with me, Theo." I grin when he looks at me, and he shakes his head. "Please?" I pout.

"Fine." He sighs, and I give him my hands. He begins to skate backwards, probably to keep me from falling, and I chuckle. "But I'm leading."

We skate around in circles until I'm dizzy, and when he wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me in, my face resting against his chest as he glides backwards, I inhale deeply and smile. His scent has haunted my dreams for weeks, and now that I have him in my arms again, I never want to let him go.

So I don't. And he doesn't pull away, either.

My heart hasn't felt this full in a very long time.