I had thought that maybe I could tell him about his mom and heal us. Show him much I loved him, and what could be.
A grand gesture.
We could go back to before.
“I found her,” I whispered. “I found your mother.”
Theo didn’t immediately pull away. I think it would have been easier if he had. He slowly withdrew from me. It was agonizing, like ripping out fingernails one by one, but all the while his stare was on me.
Digging.
Finally I turned away. I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed my leather clutch to get my phone, finding the email, handing it to him.
For a long while, he simply stared.
Then there came a moment when I thought I’d done the right thing. When Theo’s eyes cracked with what I thought was heartbreak, but eventually shone with wonder. His eyes found mine, and I believed I’d fixed us.
Then everything crashed.
“Are you trying to get in my head?” he asked.
His stare was bitter cold, his words even more so. Goose bumps rose along my flesh, a warning.
“What? No—”
Theo threw my phone at the wall, cutting me off. It cracked, breaking into pieces. I tore my gaze from the remnants of my phone, back to Theo.
I was fucking this up so much.
“Then why? I fucking told you to stay out of it, Abigail.” He took a step toward me, still speaking with the chillingly callous tone, as if he hadn’t just left a dent in the pretty color my mother fired numerous decorators to achieve.
“I just…”
“Why did you do this, Abigail? Why did you do this now—” He broke off and rubbed his face, turning from me.
His back rose and fell with his breaths.
“This is why you wanted so desperately to read it. Classic fucking fire starter.”
“No!” I scrambled. “It’s—I—what if she wants to see you, Theo?”
He turned back, glare sharp. “She doesn’t. She gave me up.”
“She was fifteen.”
“And? You kept me. You kept me when you were fifteen.”
“It’s not the same,” I whispered.
It was the wrong thing to say, again. Every shadow on his face was magnified by ten. The hollows beneath his sharp cheekbones, the dark of his brow, the muscle along his jawline. He was furious, and I was making it worse.
Was it the same? His mom probably felt like she couldn’t provide for him, probably thought giving him up was the best she could do. She had no idea what would happen to Theo. She was selfless.
I saw Theo, and all I thought was how lonely he looked, and how
lonely I was. I thought this boy might understand me. I might finally feel something other than emptiness. I wasn’t thinking about providing a better life for him; I was thinking about making a better one for myself.
I was selfish.