Page 24 of All In
I heard the watery bubble of coffee being poured into a cup, then Theo pressed the mug into my hand. I sipped and immediately set it down. Too hot. Too strong. Too much. Everything was too much, as if my body were made of rice paper, inside and out.
Theo emerged from the shower ten minutes later looking darkly handsome in a blue T-shirt, jeans, and boots. “What do you want to eat?”
I tried to think of the least offensive food, something easy to chew and swallow. “Oatmeal would be great, thanks.”
He started for the door, then stopped. “You got a house phone? For emergencies?”
“No, just my cell…” My voice trailed off as a vague memory swam up at me. I sank into the chair under its weight. “Oh my God.”
“Youhada cell,” Theo said with a wry twist to his lips.
“Teddy, I’m so sorry…”
He cut me off again. “I’ll leave you my phone.”
“What for?”
“I don’t know. In case you feel really sick.” He shrugged, grinned. “Or maybe play some Fruit Ninja.”
I smiled. “You think of everything.”
In the quiet house, I took tiny sips of coffee and played one game of Solitaire before opening Theo’s contacts. The sheer number of women’s names—mostly just first names—made me roll my eyes with a small laugh, but the laugh died out when my random scrolling landed on Dena. Then Oscar. The Fletcher’s home number. Tania, Jonah’s assistant. Eme, the curator at the Galleria.
And Jonah.
My thumb shook as it hovered over the call button. Would I hear his old voicemail message? Or did the Fletchers have it disconnected?
Don’t. You’re barely hanging on after last night. You got nothing in your stomach. You don’t have a hand to hold. Don’t do this; you’re not strong enough yet.
I hit call and slowly put the phone to my ear.
Hey, you’ve reached Jonah Fletcher…
My heart ripped in two as I remembered why I’d thrown away my old cell all those months ago.
Leave me a message and I’ll call you back.
He sounded so healthy. No hitching breaths, no fatigue turning his voice to a whisper. I could leave a message and he’d call back in five minutes. He could walk through the front door, bickering with Theo, carrying take-out from Rooney’s.
Have a good one.
I was still crying when Theo came back, bringing the scent of hash browns and eggs with him.
He didn’t ask any questions, only set up the takeout on my splintered wooden coffee table: a small container of oatmeal for me and what looked to be like one of everything on the menu for himself.
“I called Jonah,” I said, putting his cell on the table. “His number, I mean. The voicemail message set me off again. Serves me right for snooping. I’m sorry about that.”
Theo’s thick dark brows furrowed. “No big deal.”
“I just…want to stay honest,” I said. “From now on. It’s not much, but…I’m sorry—”
“Hey.”
His tone was sharp, and I looked up miserably.
“I do it too,” he said, his voice now low and soft. “I call him all the time. Just to hear his voice.”
“I couldn’t help it,” I said, wiping my eyes. “I had to throw my old phone away because I was calling him dozens of times a day.”
