Page 118 of Here We Go Again

“My answer isn’t going to change.”

I step away from the desk with a grumble and try to call Theo one more time. This time, it doesn’t even ring. The call goes straight to voicemail.

My heart aches at the thought of whatever he’s feeling right now.

I just need to get to him. But how?

I turn back to my phone and scroll through my contacts, wondering if I possibly still have Carter’s number. I did, once upon a time. When we were all in high school and hanging out. Theo probably put us in the same group chat or something. Hopefully, Carter hasn’t changed his number since then.

Instead of texting, I jump right to FaceTime, hoping some visual evidence will help my case with the doorman.

Luckily, Carter answers almost immediately. He’s clearly standing in his kitchen, and Sarah is visible in the space behind him. “Hey, Becca. You okay? What’s up?”

“Hey! I’m so glad you picked up. I’m actually at Theo’s apartment building, and I’m hoping you can vouch for me with his doorman. You used to live here too, right? Can you tell him I am who I say I am, so he’ll let me go upstairs?”

“Sure thing,” Carter says. “Put him on.”

“Thank you, thank you!”

I carry the phone back to the doorman. “Hi. Someone would like to speak with you.”

I listen as Carter has a brief conversation with the doorman, whose entire demeanor changes once Carter is on the phone. He clearly respects him, and it stands to reason he feels the same way about Theo.

“Okay,” the doorman says. “Sure thing. I’ll send her up.”

“With a spare key, please,” I say. “Just in case he won’t answer the door.”

The doorman’s eyebrows raise at this, but Carter quickly says, “If she’s worried about him, definitely give her the key.”

The doorman nods and hands the phone back to me. Carter’s face still fills the screen.

“What do you know that you aren’t telling me?” he asks, and I breathe out a sigh.

“Nothing, really,” I say. “Just that he was at the hospital for imaging today, and he hasn’t responded to my texts since. Have you seen him this afternoon?”

Carter shakes his head. “He had a pretty rough morning at practice,” he says. “Then he left early and didn’t come back. He hasn’t responded to me either, but I’m more concerned he’s not responding to you.”

His words send a flurry of emotion pushing through me—that he would consider me such an important part of his brother’s life. But the more pressing feeling is an aching desire to get upstairs, to find Theo and make sure he’s okay.

“Text me and let me know how he’s doing, yeah?” Carter says, and I nod.

“I will. Thanks, Carter.”

I disconnect the call, then take the key from the doorman and head straight for the elevators.

Theo’s apartment is quiet, the low light of dusk filtering in through the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the living room wall. “Theo?” I call out, but I don’t hear any response.

I keep looking, moving through the kitchen to the hallway, back to his bedroom.

When I reach the door, I call Theo’s name one more time, but there’s still no response. Taking a deep breath, a lame attempt to slow my racing heart, I push it open to find Theo sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed, legs up in front of him with his elbows propped on his knees. He’s in workout clothes and sneakers, AirPods tucked in his ears, and he’s glistening with sweat like he just finished a hard workout.

He looks up when I enter, but his eyes don’t register much.

He looks utterly and completely defeated.

I sit down cross-legged in front of him and reach forward, picking up his hand and pressing a quick kiss to the back of his knuckles before letting him go again.

He tugs his AirPods out and tosses them onto the rug beside him.