Page 63 of Here We Go Again

My heart aches the tiniest bit. I like hearing Theo talk about his dad, but I hate that he has to talk about him in the past tense. “Yeah. That sounds about right. I remember him being really likeable.”

Theo’s eyes drop to the table. “I sometimes forget that you knew him. That you…” He pauses and swallows. I watch his Adam’s apple move up and down in his throat. “I don’t talk to many people from life before, you know? Not really anyone.”

“That’s understandable,” I say.

“Maybe,” he says through a shrug. “But I also think I did it wrong. I ran away for a long time. I didn’t even want to think about anything connected to my dad.” He shifts in his seat, resting his clasped hands on the table in front of him. His shoulders are tight, the lines of his body rigid, and I resist the sudden urge to scoot around so I’m sitting beside him just so I can give him a hug. “Carter did better than I did,” he says. “He grieved. Talked to people. Went to therapy. I didn’t do any of that. Now I feel like I’m playing catch up.”

I study him closely. “You said you started therapy this summer?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Why this summer? Was it your injury?”

He lifts his gaze to meet mine, his clear blue irises piercing right to my very soul.

“It was you,” he says softly, and the air freezes in my lungs. “I saw you the night you first talked to Carter. Before my injury. When he was at the hospital with his wife.”

Sometimes I forget about the night I saw Carter. It was a couple of weeks before Theo’s injury, when he and his wife were there for the birth of their niece. It was a shock to see him, but it was nothing compared to the shock of seeing Theo on the operating table, so in hindsight, that first encounter with Carter has faded in significance.

Mia told me she’d seen both brothers, but by the time I reached the waiting room, Theo was already gone. “So you were still there,” I say.

He nods, his expression turning a little sheepish as he says, “Hiding behind a plant. I saw you coming, and I panicked.”

I shake my head, still struggling to process. “I’m having a hard time imagining a six-foot-four hockey player hiding behind a plant.”

He gives me a chagrined look. “It’s not my proudest moment. I wedged myself in between the vending machine and the wall, then pulled the plant in front of the gap.”

“You did not,” I say, laughing despite the serious nature of our conversation.

“I did.” He chuckles too, but his expression quickly sobers. “I realized how stupid I was being, but I wasn’t about to climb out while you were standing there, so I just stayed where I was and felt ashamed of myself until you were gone.” He drops his gaze. “Anyway. That moment really woke me up. Made me realize how much I was still hiding.”

I take a long, steadying breath. That wasn’t at all the answer I thought Theo would give.

I’m happy for him. Happy that he’s finally working through stuff. But it’s overwhelming to think that I’m the reason why. Or that I was the trigger, at least.

“Sorry,” he says a little sheepishly. “That’s probably a lot to take in.”

“No, it’s … I’m happy for you,” I say. “Truly. I’m glad you’ve been talking to someone. Honestly, I think we all need a little therapy. I’ve definitely had my share.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he says, and I wince.

“That’s not … I mean, yes, definitely about our breakup. But also about losing my grandmother. And then getting through college—nursing school almost broke me. I basically had my therapist on speed dial.”

“I’ve heard nursing school is brutal,” Theo says. He holds my gaze for a long moment. “I guess I just realized I was only living half a life, you know? I wanted something more. But that meant believing I deserve something more. That’s what I’ve been working on.”

His words make my heart squeeze in my chest, and for a split second, I find myself hoping that what Theo Williamson deserves—what he wants—is me.

16

THEO

Becca reaches for a beer-battered shrimp and dips it into the sauce that makes Reba’s so special. “It’s not like I’m not happy for Mia,” she says before taking a bite. “I am. Aaron has totally won me over. It’s just the uncertainty that’s killing me. We’ve usually signed a contract long before now. It’s weird not to know what I’m doing next.”

When I asked Becca about Mia and the guy she’s dating, the conversation led us here. And I get it. For as long as Becca and Mia have been traveling together, it has to feel weird for their plans to be put on hold.

“It’s a matter of logistics too,” she continues. “Indigo gets home right after our contract ends, and she’ll want her place back. We can’t just pretend like we aren’t going to be homeless.”

“Please come sleep in my guest room before you actually become homeless,” I say, hating the reminder of how little time Becca has left in the city. “You and Mia both.”