Page 32 of Last Letters to Ara
“Ara? Is that you?”
Theo and I lurch back to an acceptable distance apart, trance utterly broken. My brows lift in surprise when I see that it’s Susan standing beside Theo. I can’t decide if I want to strangle her or hug her for interrupting what certainly was about to happen.
“Oh, hi, Susan. Good to see you!” Is it though?
Managing to keep my voice calm for a pleasant greeting, it serves as a total contrast to the pandemonium happening in my head.
“You, too, sweetie! I just stopped by to get some material for our Valentine’s Day napkins. What a coincidence seeing you here.”
My laugh comes out strangled. “Crazy, right?”
“Okay, you two! Have fun shopping. Tell your father that I said hello!”
Susan’s innocent request hits me straight in the gut, a powerful cocktail of grief and guilt. She doesn’t know about Dad and I’m too weak to tell her. A lifeless wave is all I can muster as she walks away.
My head sags until warm fingers gently touch my chin, guiding my face back toward the lights.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
It’s now or never. “My dad died.”
“When?” His eyes are so gentle, my vital organs turn to mush.
“A little over a month ago. His funeral was the day we met at the airport. It had all been too much for me and I ran.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too.” I should say more. I should tell him how great of a man he was, how big of a disservice it was to this world, taking him away, but I can’t get the words out. As per usual.
“Come here.” Theo wraps his arms around me, pulling me close.
The tension-filled heat from earlier has vanished, replaced by this tender moment. His cheek rests on my head, while his hands make long, comforting strokes up and down my back. With each caress, I feel less broken. Less alone.
Theo gently pulls away but leaves his hands on my shoulders, ducking down to my level. “Come on, it’s my turn.”
“For what?”
“To pick out the material for what you’re makingme.” Theo’s trying to lighten the mood, and as some of the grief retreats, I realize that it’s working. “I want to look pretty.”
Present - Ara
BY THE TIMEI get to the door of my apartment, the heaviness has completely lifted, replaced by nerves. Theo is about to enter my apartment with me. First of all, it’s a disaster and completely humiliating. The remnants of my last laundry loads are still on the chair in the corner, not to mention the fact that I haven’t made my bed in years, beyond throwing the bedding back on after a wash. The only impressive thing about my apartment is my wall of plants, and those are fake.
Second of all, we had a moment earlier, and I’m worried that it will happen again. Except this time, we’ll be in my apartment with no one to interrupt us andplentyof surfaces.Third of all, I’m worried because Iwantthe heat to return between us, and I don’t know what that means. The inferno that I felt in that fabric store, when Theo had almost closed that distance between us, is something I’ve never even felt with aboyfriend. Idefinitelyhaven’t experienced it with a friend.
“I love your place.” Theo’s voice is genuine as we walk through the front door. “It feels like a real home.”
Leave it to Theo to find the perfect words to completely dissipate my anxiety. I expect him to nosy around the way most people do, but instead he walks straight to my couch and plops down as if he’s done it a hundred times.
He lets out a long groan. “This couch is so comfortable, you might have to roll me out of here.”
This makes me laugh, as a fuzzy, comforting warmth floods my veins, knowing that Theo loves my pride and joy. The couch isn’t much of a looker, but it is arguably the most comfortable couch in the world. In fact, I would bet on it. New couches may look nice, but good luck sitting down to binge a good book on one of those. Your ass will be killing you by the end of it.
“You’re being quiet,” Theo says.
“Sorry.” I give him a shy smile. “I was just in my head.”
“Why don’t you share what you’re thinking?”
