Page 16 of Press Play

Theo gently wipes away the tears on my cheek, and I lean into his hand, letting his warmth pull me out of the darkness.

“You’re safe,” he whispers again, his forehead resting gently against mine. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

I nod, even though the fear still lingers. But with Theo beside me, the room doesn’t seem as small. The walls aren’t closing in as tightly as they were before. I focus on the steady rise and fall of his shoulders, letting it calm the storm inside me.

For the first time in what feels like hours, I exhale, the weight in my chest lifting just enough to let me breathe again.

“Do you remember when you went to the hospital in eleventh grade?” He watches me for a moment, trying to summon the memory.

“I was having those stabbing pains in my side. It was you and my dad?—”

“You were high out of your mind,” he laughs.

“I was,” I chuckle. “I was so thrilled we had TV.”

“When I arrived, you two had been waiting for hours—” He cackles, “You looked at me and said, ‘Theo, at least we have TV.’”

My lips curl into a smile, drying my tears instantly. “And when we left?—”

“It was raining, and you said, ‘Wow, the street is so sparkly.’”

“It was!” I exclaim, meeting his wide smile with one of my own.

“Your dad and I were crying. Oh, man.” He palms his eyes and snorts. “That was gold.”

Last year was a defining moment for my family. After years of infidelity on my mother’s behalf, Dad took the plunge and did what was best for him. For far too long, he allowed her to walk over him, digging her heel in his nape and smothering him inthe ground beneath her. To this day, he stands by his choice to have stayed with her, and it was because he feared what would happen to us if he left. We’re grown now, and it was due time he put himself first.

He has his moments, though. The first couple of months were rough, and he relapsed a handful of times. I was the one he called if he needed to cry and vent. If he was high on the job, I was who rescued him. I was the one who provided him with never-ending support. It was always me—the curse of the older child.

My body begins to sway as exhaustion sweeps over me. I sink farther into Theo’s embrace, and my eyes flutter closed. “What are you thinking about?”

He traces the lines on my palm with his thumb, something he does when I’m not well or if my mind starts to race. “You don’t feel safe anymore.”

I shake my head. “She’s going to come back. I should have left when she found out my address.” I release a deep sigh as my heart gets heavier.

“Stay with me.”

I laugh without thinking. “That’s funny.”

He shifts so our eyes meet. “I mean it. Stay with me, Wren. Just until you know she won’t return.” His gorgeous irises seem to sparkle in the dark. “Stay with me, Wren.”

Tears fill the corners of my eyes, and when I look at him again, they free themselves.

“I want you to.”

I sniffle as my cheeks grow damp; Theo reaches toward me and catches the droplets with his finger.

“I don’t want to burden you,” I choke out.

“Wren,” he whispers. “You can never burden me. You’re my best friend, and I’ll do anything for you. Don’t you know that by now?”

“What about your videos?”

I’m embarrassed to ask, but it needs to be considered. The last thing either of us wants is me walking in on him in the middle of something. My mind can’t handle any more scarring images.

“I can do solo videos.” He shrugs as if it’s not a problem.

“You don’t have to do that.”

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