Page 95 of The Baby Dragon Bakery
“Is Lavinia here?” he asked, looking around.
“She just left,” Beena said.
“Ah fuck,” Theo said, then winced. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Beena said, taking his arm with her free hand. “Come on, let’s have a little chat.”
She brought him to the family room, where Biter wasasleep in a nest of blankets. Theo sat down next to Beena on the couch.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” she asked, eyes warm and patient. Theo gave her a rundown on the disastrous dinner at his parents’ place, what they had said, how it had gotten into his head and made him be distant toward Lavinia.
“I know I don’t deserve your daughter,” Theo said, hanging his head.
“Hey.” Beena lifted his chin so he would meet her eyes. “When people tell you that they love you, you have to believe them, or you end up in a situation like this. Has Lavinia ever made you feel like you don’t deserve her?”
“No.”
“What about me? And Garrett and Alfie. Have we ever made you feel less than?”
He shook his head, eyes welling up with tears.
“Then you just have to believe that we love you, that youareloved.” She let go of his chin, but he kept her gaze. Her voice softened. “Even if your parents don’t love you the way they should, you are still worthy of love and deserving of it.”
Tears fell down his cheeks and he let out a shuddering breath, nodding. She was right. He couldn’t shoot himself in the foot by letting his insecurities cloud his judgment, especially not if it meant losing Lavinia.
He needed to be brave.
“Understand?” Beena said.
“Yes.” He stood, reaching over and kissing her cheek. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” She smiled, touching his face. “Lavinia left about twenty minutes ago, so you might still catch her at your place.”
He nodded, making a run for it. He drove back home, bypassing the elevator and taking the steps two at a time to the fourth floor, heading straight for his apartment, hoping to see her waiting for him by the door.
But she wasn’t there. He deflated, depressed. With a sigh, he let himself into the apartment.
And like a dream, she came out of his bedroom.
“Lavinia!” he cried, just as she called his name, and they met in the middle, crashing into each other. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he held her torso tight.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“No, I’m sorry,” he said, pulling back to look into her teary eyes. “When you asked if I was unhappy—I wasn’t unhappy with you! I could never be unhappy with you. You make me happier than I ever even knew was possible.”
She sniffled. “You didn’t get tired of me?”
“Tired of you?” He was astounded. “If I was going to get tired of you, it would have happened when we were eight, Lavinia. Since then you’ve stolen all my favorite flannel shirts, and your hands are always cold, and you make me watch all those rom-coms, but no, I could never get tired of you, or any of those things, or any part of you. Take all my clothes—everything of mine is yours! And if your hands are cold, it means I can make it my mission to keep them warm, and I don’t really mind those movies, since they teach me how to love you better.”
Her lower lip trembled as her eyes welled with tears. “I know I can be stupid and delusional,” Lavinia said, and he frowned.
“Lav, what are you saying? You’re not stupid, or delusional, don’t be mean to yourself, I don’t like it!”
“Okay,” she said. “Maybe I can get too in my head, sometimes.”
“Me, too.”
They both laughed, teary-eyed. He cupped her face in his hands and pulled her in for a searing kiss, opening her mouth against his, both of them snatching the other closer.
