Page 22 of Here We Go Again

The fact that he just admitted something even a little bit vulnerable with so much ease—it’s a different side of Theo.

Or maybe just a grown-up one?

“Just be yourself,” I say. “And if you ever don’t know what to say, ask him questions. Kids like it when adults seem interested in them.”

We reach the nurses’ station on the peds floor, and Lexie hops up from the desk, coming around to greet us. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and she looks like she spent a little extra time on her makeup this morning.

I swallow my irritation—why should I care that Lexie looks like a supermodel?—and force myself to focus on the good we’re trying to accomplish today.

“Oh my gosh,” Lexie says, extending her hand to Theo. “You have no idea how big this is. Thank you so much for agreeing to come.”

“It’s no problem,” Theo says. “I’m happy to be here.”

Lexie tells us a little more about Garrison as we head to his hospital room. He’s the oldest of three boys. He loves country music. His favorite subject in school is math. He plays defense in hockey, just like Theo.

“He isn’t usually an inpatient,” Lexie says as she pauses outside his door. “But he picked up an infection that tanked his white blood cell count, so he’s been here the past week. We’re hoping he’ll be strong enough to go home this weekend. I should warn you, his parents have gone above and beyond to make his room feel like home, so don’t be surprised if you see your own face on the wall.”

“I appreciate the heads-up,” Theo says.

“Okay. Let me go in first and make sure he’s good. I’ll come back for you in a sec.”

I glance up at Theo, wondering if it’s weird for him to think about fans having his poster on their bedroom walls. But Lexie is back before I can ask him, and then she’s ushering him into the room.

“You must be Garrison,” Theo says as he steps inside. “Someone told me you’re a Jaguars fan?”

The room erupts into gasps and exclamations of shock as he shakes Garrison’s parents’ hands and then pulls up a chair next to the hospital bed.

I hover in the doorway—there’s no reason for me to be here—but I can’t bring myself to leave. Garrison’s joy is infectious, and despite his insecurity, Theo does an excellent job talking to him. They talk about hockey, mostly, Garrison peppering him with question after question. But Theo asks him questions too. About his game. How he tapes his stick. What he likes most about playing defense.

“It’s a big responsibility,” Theo says. “You don’t always get the glory like the big scorers do, but you still do important work. It isn’t just about stopping the other team. It’s about protecting your own.”

Suddenly, I’m sitting in the rink watching Theo practice, hearing his junior hockey coach say the same thing to him. It’s an unexpected echo, yet another reminder that this man I don’t really know used to be a boy I knew better than anybody.

As I listen to the happy conversation happening in front of me, my own heart starts to soften. Because of the way we broke up, with such a harsh and sudden end to ever seeing each other, Theo stayed frozen in time, trapped inside my heartache.

It’s nice to see him like this. All grown up. A man defined by so much more than our relationship or the tragedy that led to it ending.

I pull out my phone while the conversation continues and glance at a few new notifications. A message from Rory catches my eye.

Rory

Hey. In Atlanta tonight for a quick meeting before flying to New York. Can we meet?

I frown at my phone. I guess he’s back from Tokyo. But … can we meet?

Why does that feel so ominous?

It doesn’t help that we’ve barely talked the past two weeks. Despite his warning that I wouldn’t hear from him while he was in Tokyo, we did manage to squeeze in a phone call last Sunday. But two minutes in, he got another call from a client, promised he would call me back, and then texted fifteen minutes later saying we’d have to try again another time.

I’m clearly not his priority right now, and I have to wonder if that’s why he’s here. To make a clean break. He’d definitely want to do it in person. He might be a little overcommitted to his work, but Rory is still a decent guy.

Then again, what if I’m wrong and he’s here because he wants to fight harder, to make things work between us?

I should probably figure out what I want before I see him.

I gnaw at my lip and type out a quick response. A few messages later, we’ve decided to meet for drinks as soon as he’s finished with his client dinner. I glance at my watch. That gives me roughly eight hours to figure out my feelings.

Ha. Totally fine! No problem at all!