Page 174 of True Blue

I know Teddy wants another chance with us, and I’m… growing more and more willing to give it to him by the day.

But I want to be sure that I’m ready for it, that I’m not just giving him half of myself and holding back from fear. He doesn’t deserve that. I want to be sure that I’m not going to hold things over his head, hold that time over his head.

Because that’s cruelty.

And Teddy is giving me the space to figure it out, which somehow makes me trust him even more.

I’m just terrified, if we’re being honest, to feel any of the same emotions I felt in the first half of this year. But, slowly, my trust in Teddy is building, fortifying, and I have confidence it will get there again.

Days like this help immensely.

Teddy and I take our time through the zoo. It’s a very mild November day, in the high fifties, which, to a Midwestern-born-and-bred girl, is odd but also kind of nice. There’s no biting wind on my face, no chill down to my bones. I’m wearing a thick blue cable-knit sweater under my coat, jeans, and my boots that are now a little muddy, but I’m having too much fun to care about that.

Teddy’s just in a hoodie, the sleeves rolled up, which made me affectionately roll my eyes when I got into his truck earlier. He traps heat like a bear. He smiled at me when he pulled in front of my apartment complex and handed me a crisp, cold Red Bull and a gluten-free bagel with cream cheese, just the way I like it.

Today is definitely going in my perfect day folder.

For a while, we just walk and talk softly. Teddy tells me about meeting with his advisor at the school, how he’s worried he’ll be the oldest person there, if he’s even cut out for art.

“I think it’s what you’re made for, Teddy,” I tell him sincerely. “What you create is… not just art, it’s… I wish I could bottle up the feeling and give it to you.”

“Like you with being a doctor,” he grins. “I can’t even fathom doing what you do, Indie. You help people during the worst times of their lives. You’re incredible.”

“No, you’re incredible,” I tease.

“No, you,” he says, gently nudging his shoulder with mine.

“No, you,” I tease, as we continue through the giraffe exhibit, the cats, the otters, and us giggling like children the entire time.

Afterward, our stomachs are growling, and neither of us seems eager to part. I suggest we stop for dinner, and Teddy agrees immediately. We end up at a Chinese restaurant around the corner from my apartment, and I try to hide my smile as Teddy asks the hostess whether they have safe gluten-free options and if they follow cross-contamination protocols.

Now that is an old part of Teddy that remains.

And that’s the whole point, that this Teddy—healing Teddy, boundary-setting Teddy, promise-keeping Teddy—has been in him all along. He just had to believe in himself enough to pull himself out.

The hostess assures us they have a safe gluten-free menu as she leads us over to a table near the window. We sit across from each other, and a sense of déjà vu washes over me, a flash of our other dates back in Chicago.

“I think that I want to host a Thanksgiving dinner one day,” I tell Teddy after we place our food order.

Teddy looks at me, a little surprised, but there’s a soft smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“I’m not overly fond of this holiday,” I admit, pulling apart the chopsticks and smiling when I don’t break them. “But I think you could just use it as an excuse to host dinner and be with… friends.”

Teddy looks at me fondly. “I think that’s a great idea. You could even make it your own food-wise.”

“Burgers or tacos instead of turkey,” I say, and Teddy nods eagerly.

“Turkey is bland anyway.”

“Your mother’s turkey was bland,” I grimace.

Teddy snickers. “‘Too many seasonings and too many calories.’ It also might make it look imperfect, and that would be the end of the world.”

My smile is wide and true. Joking about trauma is a good sign in my book. It’s a way to process in a way that’s not scary. And I’m proud of him for joking, for speaking about it with me. It’s not just baby steps.

It’s a fucking leap.

Teddy tilts his head at my smile. “What?”