Page 126 of Caden & Theo
I want to stay in this moment forever, but then he glances past me, and his smile shifts—softens. “Theo.”
I turn. And freeze.
His parents are standing a few feet away.
For a heartbeat, I can’t move. It’s been sixteen years since I last saw them. Sixteen years since the accident, since the fallout, since everything fractured. My breath stutters. My chest clenches.
But then his mom steps forward, tears already in her eyes, and before I can say a word, she wraps me up in a hug. The kind of hug that swallows you whole, that doesn’t let you go even when you think you don’t deserve it.
My eyes burn hot. The years between us dissolve. “I’m sorry,” I choke out against her shoulder. “I’m so?—”
She shushes me, fierce. “No. Enough of that. You’re here. That’s what matters.”
When she finally lets me go, his dad is there, pulling me into an embrace that’s just as tight. His hand claps my back, steady and strong. “Took you long enough,” he mutters, though his voice wavers.
My tears spill freely now, but for once I don’t care. I look at both of them, their faces lined with years but their eyes just as kind, and all I see is welcome.
Behind me, Caden squeezes my shoulder. I glance at him, and his eyes shine too.
The thing is, I know this reunion matters as much to him as it does to me. He broke when we broke. And his parents lost me, too, in their way. They were like second parents once—until the silence swallowed us all.
And now, here we are.
I manage a watery laugh. “Guess I wasn’t the only one who got ambushed at an airport.”
Caden grins, wiping at his cheek with the heel of his hand. “Fair. You saw me when I reunited with your parents in Gomillion.”
“You cried harder than Mom,” I murmur, nodding, remembering the time four months ago fondly.
“Lies,” he says, but his smile gives him away.
The four of us stand there, tangled in laughter and tears, and there’s another shift—it feels like we’re no longer carrying the weight of what happened. We’re not trapped in the past anymore. We’re here, all of us, and the future is wide open.
Caden’s mom touches my cheek, her thumb brushing at the tear tracks. “You look good, Theo. Happy.”
I glance at Caden, at the man I’ve loved for more than half my life. “I am,” I whisper. “I really am.”
His dad nods, his hand firm on my shoulder. “That’s all we ever wanted. For both of you.”
We gather my bags, and as we walk toward the car, I can’t stop glancing at Caden, at his parents, at the way this all feels so impossibly right. The dread that gnawed at me for months—the fear of how this reunion would go when I eventually saw them—melts away with every step. In the last year, every time I came out to see Caden over school breaks, it just never worked out. Once they were traveling, another time Caden and I slipped away to Hawaii together instead, greedy for the kind of time we’d lost. Each trip passed without crossing paths, and part of me wondered if fate was giving me more time to prepare. Turns out I didn’t need it.
This isn’t about the past anymore. It’s about what comes next.
At the car, we pack the bags into the trunk, then pile in—his dad driving, his mom up front, Caden and me squeezed togetherin the back seat like no time has passed. His thigh presses against mine, and his hand covers mine on the seat between us.
The city lights slide past the windows as we merge into traffic. For a while, it’s quiet, everyone breathing the same air, the weight of reunion still settling. Then his mom turns slightly in her seat.
“So,” she says lightly, “where to first?”
I glance at Caden. He’s watching me already, his smile small but certain.
“Our house,” he says.
My chest tightens at the word. Nothis.Ours.
I try to swallow past the lump in my throat. “I was going to say maybe dinner together? Or at least—you could come by for a bit.”
Before they can respond, Caden lets out a groan and drops his head back against the seat. “Theo.” The word is half warning, half plea.
