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“No problem.” I duck away from his eyes to take a bite from one of the breakfast tacos. We’ve been talking for so long, they’re starting to get cold. I’m about to tell Theo to go ahead and dig in when the weight of his hand falls on my shoulder. I glance up at his solemn expression.
“Seriously,” he tells me, his eyes burning with some emotion I can’t name. “I could’ve ruined everything. The last person I should be going after is someone in love with my brother. I can’t thank you enough for helping me through this.”
“You’re welcome,” I say hoarsely. For some reason, my throat is dry. Once I clear it, my voice comes out normally. “Now eat up.”
He doesn’t need telling twice. Theo finishes the potato and egg taco in no less than three bites before washing it down with lukewarm coffee.
“Thanks for breakfast. You’re an amazing cook, and now we don’t have to go to brunch.”
“Shit.” I forgot all about brunch with Ben’s and Alice’s families. “What time is it?”
“Relax, it’s not till noon. It’s only”—Theo looks down at his phone—“half an hour till. And besides, we just ate.”
“Are you kidding? You have to go!” I exclaim. “They’ll think something’s up if you don’t show. Not only did you leave the party early, but you never returned to their apartment last night. They’ll catch on if you keep avoiding them.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?” He bursts up from the couch, eyes widening with panic. “How am I supposed to face them after what I almost did? How do I keep staying with them until I find a place of my own?”
“Wait, what?” I ask. “You’re not going back to Dallas?”
“I retired,” he tells me. The fact seems to deflate him; his shoulders slump in defeat, and he hangs his head like it’s weighing him down. “I don’t even want to get into that mess right now. God, what was I thinking? This is a mess.”
“Hey.” I rest a hand on his arm, and he looks back down at me. “You’ll get through this, okay? And I’ll help you any way I can. I promise.”
He meets my eyes, and I notice the color of his for the first time. Dark blue. Twin storms rapidly approaching the shore, right before they wipe out all signs of civilization. Those eyes are twice the destruction—total obliteration.
“You’ve done more than enough for me, Marcela. More than I deserve.”
“No one deserves to go through what you’re going through alone,” I assure him, even as a twinge in my chest makes my heart ache. At least I have Angela to help me get through all the Ben stuff. Who does Theo have aside from me? Would his friends back in Dallas judge him for going after his brother’s fiancée?
“But first things first—”
“Are you sure brunch is really a good idea right now?”
“You can think about it as you get ready.” My nose wrinkles as I sniff the air between us. I push him toward the direction of my bathroom. “But maybe start with a shower first.”
Five
Once I’m dressed in the first brunch-appropriate dress I can find—a pink floral number I got on sale—I realize everything I need to do my hair and makeup is in the bathroom. All my products are inside the mirror cabinet above the sink, and my curling iron is on the marble countertop. The sound of water rushing from Theo’s shower is muffled from behind the bathroom door. I glance down at my phone for the time. Shit. We’re already late without me having to wait until Theo’s out of the shower.
I knock on the door, opening it a smidge in case he can’t hear it through the spray of water. “Theo?” I call out, shielding my eyes with a raised hand.
“What’s up?” he calls back, voice echoey.
“I need to come in and grab some stuff to do my hair and makeup,” I tell him. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all. You can get ready in here, if you want. It’s your place.”
I only agree because my full-size mirror shattered last weekend, which is turning out to be a bad omen indeed. Another near-decade of bad luck, here I come. I pull my hair back into a half-up, half-down style and plug in my curling iron to re-curl the tendrils that went flat overnight. A thin layer of condensation begins to fog the mirror, blurring my vision. So maybe sharing a bathroom isn’t the wisest idea after all. The fog becomes too thick to see through in a matter of seconds. I wipe it away with my palm, revealing my frizzy bedhead. I could’ve sworn my hair wasn’t this poofy before I walked in. It must be the heat from Theo’s shower making it act up.
I let out a sigh as I retrieve a light pink scrunchie from the top drawer. Low bun it is.
“You okay?” I startle at the sound of Theo’s voice. I nearly forgot he was in here, despite the ever-present sound of running water.
“Fine,” I say, unplugging the curling iron as I rifle through the cabinets for my makeup bag. “Just having some hair trouble.”
Sharing a bathroom with Theo is an oddly intimate experience, though that may be because none of my relationships have ever lasted long enough for such a domestic act. I wonder if he’s done this before with previous women he’s dated. Or, if Ben’s stories are to be believed, the mornings after his copious one-night stands. The logistics line up. Now though, as the water abruptly shuts off, I let out an involuntary squeak in my rush out the door. It shuts behind me with a loud boom that makes me flinch. As if I wasn’t the one who shut it in the first place.
Yikes. Get a grip, girl.
