Page 37 of Last Letters to Ara
Those words of his, full of meaning and emotion, have me thinking all kinds of things, but I know myself, and this is not my bravery. If I act now, with the departure of this brave buzz will come the fear, the anxiety which will ruin this before it begins.
I ruin the moment the best way I know how, instantly hating myself for it. “You never told me about finding your dad with your ex-girlfriend.”
Theo drops his gaze and pulls back, giving me a little half smile. “I don’t think I’ve got it in me tonight.”
I know the feeling.
“But I’ll make you a deal, Ara.”
God, Ilovethe way my name sounds on his lips.
“I will tell you that story as soon as you tell me yours, the unabridged edition, that is.”
I stand up, the full effect of those shots finally kicking in, leaving me a whisper away from spilling it all.
Grabbing Theo a pillow from my room and an extra blanket, I return to the living room and find Theo with his shoes off, eyes closed, lying on my couch with his hands behind his head.
“Don’t hold your breath for that, Theo.”
He opens his eyes. “I don’t care how long it takes, but I want to know you, Ara.”
I keep my mouth shut because I don’t trust the words that are sure to come out, turning back toward my room.
“Ara?” he says just as I reach my doorway.
“Yeah?” I turn back toward Theo, gripping the doorknob behind my back for strength.
“Do you have plans for Valentine’s Day?”
I give a dry laugh. “What do you think?”
He smiles. “Be my date then? I was hoping to have an excuse to wear my new jacket.”
“How do you know I’d finish it in time?”
He shrugs, “I have a feeling.”
“Are we going platonically?” I ask, not sure which answer I’m hoping for.
Accepting Theo’s friendship was a lot for me. Going on a date on Valentine’s Day, of all days, is even more. The truth is, I’m still raw with grief, not to mention my metaphorical closet full of trust issues. When Theo is around, things look brighter. I find myself wanting to take leaps, but when it’s all said and done, would I be able to follow through?
He pauses, reading me as easily as if I were wrapped in tape labeledFragile: Handle With Care. “Platonically, of course.”
The vodka sinks into my stomach. “Then, it’s a date. Platonically.”
“Goodnight, Ara.”
“Goodnight, Theo.”
I close my bedroom door before I change my mind…and not just about the date, but about it being platonic.
Four Years Ago - Ara
DAD CLEARS HISthroat, his tell for when he’s about to address something we’d both rather die than discuss with each other.
“Listen, I know we’ve always kept the topic of boys on a need-to-know basis.”
Oh, shit.
