Page 69 of Broken Vows

Theo.

What in the hell? How did he even get into my building? Honestly, does it even matter? I don’t want to see him, I don’t want to talk to him, I don’t want to look at his mouth and smell his scent and listen to that voice that makes me melt. How dare he?

I yank open the door, ready to tell him to fuck all the way off, but my breath catches.

Sweatpants. Snug white tank. Messy, unbrushed hair. Firm, rounded shoulders, smooth skin, full sleeve tattoos snaking up his arms. Jesus Christ if I thought this man looked good in a sharp button-down, it is nothing compared to how he looks now.

I cross my arms. “What do you want?”

“Can we talk?” he says, his eyes creased, his voice gentle, his palm pressing against the doorframe.

“I’m not in the mood.”

He sighs. “I need to speak to you. If… if you’ll give me a chance to explain, I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say. Please, Lexie.” As I go to slam the door in his face, he puts out his hand. “I’m begging you. Five minutes, okay? That’s all I need.”

I’ve seen different sides to Theo during college and over these past few months. Challenging. Haunting. Raging. Laughing. But never have I seen him groveling.

I don’t know what possesses me to do it. Maybe I want to see this look on his face a little longer. Or maybe no matter how much I hate him right now, I know deep down that I already miss him. So, I hold the door open. He lowers his head and follows me inside.

It feels weird having Theo here. Part of me wants to ask him if he wants some coffee, part wants to scream about how bad he hurt me, and this other part wants to feel his mouth again on mine, no matter how deeply wrong it is. I’m sick. And disgusting. And I’ll never let him kiss me again. But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to.

I slide into the furthest spot on the couch and tug a blanket over myself.

Theo sits. Then stands. Then sits. Then paces.

Another version I haven’t seen of Theo? Nervous.

He walks to the window and clasps his fingers behind his head, and my impatience spikes. I’m so tired of being kept in the dark.

“Are you trying to see your apartment from here?” I ask, not hiding my disdain. “Because you do realize watching me through a window is unhinged, right? Like genuinely disturbing, restraining-order-level, stalker shit.”

The words land hard. They’re meant to.

And yet—even as I say them—I know the truth I hate admitting: I never once felt afraid of him.

He drops his hands, the tension drains out of him as he exhales. “I have no excuse,” he says quietly.

I’m thrown by his immediate defeat, left unsure how to respond.

“Why are you here?” I ask, trying to search his eyes, but he’s staring at the floor. Silence builds and I’m annoyed that he begged for five minutes and has barely said a word. “Can we both just be adults and at least acknowledge that there’s something supremely fucked up happening here? So deeply wrong, I can barely look at myself in the mirror. Everything that happened last night… I’m your wedding planner. Whatever this is between us has to stop.”

He leans against the wall, crossing his ankles and arms.

“Besides,” I say, not withholding the bitterness in my tone, “based on your reaction last night, clearly I’m not the only one who has caught your attention.”

This makes his eyes snap to me, but it’s not rage filled like last night. He takes a deep breath. “Olivia’s not who you think she is.”

Oh, please. Not this again.

He starts pacing again. “She’s one of my father’s victims.”

My mouth drops. Did I just hear him right? What does he mean, a victim? “Wait… what? Your father?”

The pacing slows and he sits on the opposite side of the couch. “I want to tell you everything, but I don’t know if it’s right for me to do so. These women… their stories… it’s not for me to share until they’re ready. Even saying her name feels like I’m breaking her trust. But, yes, my father did horrible things.”

Victims? Dr. Astor, world-renowned professor? My head spins.

A long moment passes. Theo drags his hands down his face, and exhales. “I’m trusting you with this because you deserve the truth. But, Lexie, you have to promise me you won’t say anything. There are lives at stake, reputations, years-long investigative work gone into this…”