Page 50 of Crumbling Truth
“And your parents refused to help you.” His expression was grim. “Were they the only ones you went to during all of that?”
“Yes, and before you say it, I know Sofia or your mom would have tried to help. Looking back, I wish I’d gone to one of them, and if he hadn’t died, I probably would have. Eventually. I had no money of my own because he encouraged me not to find a job after college. And through it all, he made comments, vague enough for him to deny if I called him on it, but convincing enough to scare me out of involving anyone I cared about.”
He was silent for a beat, then said, “Sometimes I wish that rumor was true.”
“That I killed him?”
“Esther,” he murmured, waiting until I looked back at him to go on. “I was taught that unless it’s an enthusiastic yes, it’s a definite no, and I can’t imagine disrespecting that premise theway he did. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. You didn’t deserve any of that. ”
I sighed and shook my head, forcing the memories away. “I know. I know it now, anyway.”
Theo looked like he wanted to yank me onto his lap and protect me from the world. If I was honest with myself, part of me wanted that, too. What was it about this family that they were able to not only see all the walls I’d put up, but also to burst through them like wrecking balls? I narrowed my eyes at the man across from me, attempting to hold onto a glare.
“Don’t even try it,” he warned, his lips tipping up at the corners. “I didn’t force you to tell me a damn thing, so no rules were broken. And sometimes it feels better to talk about it.”
I humphed softly, but he was right. My therapist had been an amazing help over the years, but she was the only one I’d spoken to in any kind of detail. In the early days after Steve died, Sofia would try to encourage me to talk about it, but my continued resistance had resulted in her abandoning those attempts.
I wondered what would have happened if I’d taken her up on it.
“Right. So, I’m familiar with your incredibly precise timeline, but what else do we need to do for this weekend?” Theo asked, drawing me back to the present.
“Oh!” I said excitedly. “I have something for you, hang on.”
He waited at the table, clearly amused, while I ran to the bedroom closet and grabbed the item. I presented it to him with an elaborate flourish, then bobbed impatiently while he unwrapped the tissue paper around it.
“I thought you said no gifts,” he teased.
I scowled at him. “No Christmas gifts. This is different.”
When he held up the purple t-shirt, he grinned. “Oh, Esther. My very own Nutless Wonder shirt? This is incredible.”
“Check out the back.”
He turned it over and howled with laughter when he sawLong Johnwritten across the shoulders. “When on earth did you have this made?”
“As soon as you offered to be my sidekick,” I answered, delighted with his response. “There’s a little print shop on Main Street that makes my stuff, and they said they’d be able to get it done in time. Can’t have a sidekick without a uniform, can I?”
Carefully, Theo draped the shirt over the back of my chair, then caught me around the waist and pulled me down onto his lap. Punctuating each word with a kiss along my jawline, he said, “You. Are. Amazing.”
This continued until his big hand came up to cup my breast, then I tutted and scooted off his lap. “No, no, no, we have plenty to do today, Long John. I hope you’re ready to level up on your cake decorating skills tomorrow, because after Thanksgiving is over, you’re up.”
He grinned, his expression turning to an invitation I couldn’t possibly miss. “I have a feeling I’ll be up long before dinner, Esther.”
Throughout the day, I took him up on his offer to soak up as much physical affection as I could. After starting my favorite stuffing recipe in the crockpot, we trudged over to the main house, which boasted cable television instead of just streaming services, in order to curl up on the couch and watch the dog show—my favorite part of Thanksgiving Day.
“That one looks like an actual mop,” Theo muttered.
“Hush, he’s a little darling.”
“A darling little mop, maybe.”
I scowled up at him but didn’t move from my spot, nestled under his arm with my own draped across his middle. It was warm and incredibly comfortable, and he hadn’t stopped drawing curlicues across the small of my back from the time I settled there.
Learning the volumes that could be spoken with just a touch became my new favorite lesson.
Unfortunately, the soothing nature of his fingertips meant I fell asleep before a springer spaniel named Lord Grantham won Best in Show, then I woke up to Theo watching a home improvement special with the volume turned down.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, pressing my face into his ribs against the bright glare of daylight.
