Page 2 of True Blue

Teddy was the one talking extensively about flipping the house we toured, about building our dream home to plant permanent roots.

What other conclusion was I supposed to come to except that Teddy was making himself permanent in my life?

“I said that I could find a position in Chicago,” I say, working incredibly hard to keep my voice level when really I just want to give into the urge to scream. “You said you would move with me.”

Teddy stands in front of me, his face worn and tired from the day, and sets his jaw.

“I know what I said,” he snaps.

The irritated tone of his voice makes me grit my teeth.

“Then why?”

He looks panicked for a second, eyes darting around the room like the answer might be written somewhere on the walls of his childhood bedroom.

“Because my home is here," he says, his voice shaking. "Chicago. With my family, not New Jersey.”

My stomach twists painfully. There’s a desperation that I hate sitting like a lead weight in my chest.

“I thought you said I was your home, Teddy,” I whisper, hating the words. Hating the way I used to hang onto them.

When Teddy told me that, I thought it was true. I thought finally—I have a home. I know what it will feel like. I know what it means.

It meant everything to me.

Teddy’s face blanches and he takes one step toward me, hands extended like he wants to pull me into a hug.

I take half a step back.

“You are, honey,” he says. His voice is soft, warm and sweet in that way that makes my chest ache wonderfully.

For one hopeful second, I see my Teddy again.

The man who carries around gluten-free snacks for me just in case we can’t find any safe foods when we’re out.

The man who rubs my head when I come home from work overstimulated.

The man who serenades me—terribly—while doing karaoke at the bar.

In an instant, it’s gone.

He winces, “But my parents are here. Nana’s gone. The family’s falling apart, and my mom—my mom needs me.”

“Needs you for what?” I ask, bewildered. “Stephanie lives in Arizona, and Danielle lives in Ireland! She’s fine with that. Why does she need you close?”

“It’s different,” he insists. “I’m her only son.”

Yes, I’m well aware.

She reminds me every chance she gets that Teddy is her only son, her pride and joy, her precious boy—as if she doesn’t already have two daughters.

Helpless, I bury my face in my hands. I don’t know what else to do. We’re talking round and round, not getting anywhere, and I feel Teddy slipping further away from me.

“God,” I whisper, dragging my hands down my face before looking at him again. He looks so tense, his jaw clenched tight, his eyes wide and panicked. “Teddy, why did you even encourage me to apply to Bluewater?”

“Because that’s your dream,” he says quietly.

“Yes, that’s my dream hospital.”