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He was too sweet.
“Thank you,” I said, holding his hand when he offered it as the nurse gave me a small smile, coming over to my bedside.
I didn’t say word as she parted the left side of my hair, put it into a ponytail, and then held the scissors to the top of it.
“Ready?”
I nodded, and Theo gave my hand a tight squeeze, rubbing circles over the top of my hand.
He had been my rock in all of this. Theodore Darcy was the very best type of person. Someone I never truly believed existed or would even want a girl like me. I wanted to pr
otect him as much as he protected me. I wanted to stand by his side in every way. I wanted to be his rock.
“Felicity?” he said beside me.
When I focused back on my reflection, I realized I was crying. The tears wouldn’t stop falling.
“I’m sorry, can you give us a moment?” he said to the nurse, who said something before stepping out the room.
“It’s okay. You are okay. It will grow back, I promise—”
“I don’t give a fuck about my hair, Theo.” I sobbed, wiping my eyes. “You asked me what was wrong and I couldn’t think of a lie fast enough, so I just made up something.”
He frowned, sitting in front me. “What are you talking about?”
Sniffling, I took a deep breath. “I love you.”
“I love you too…”
I laughed and sobbed, squeezing his hands. “No, I mean thanks. But what I’m trying to say is that I want to be a person you can count on. Just like I can count on you…”
“Felicity—”
“No, let me finish.” I didn’t want to not say this. “I have to tell you the truth even though I know it’s going to hurt. This surgery is going to go fine. I’m going to be fine. Which is why you should be with Arty right now.”
“Arty? What the hell does—”
“I went to see him yesterday, and he told me what happened to him.” This was going to hurt. “What your father… no, he’s not your dad. He’s a monster. Arty told me what Charles Darcy did to him.”
His eyes widened as I spoke, and slowly he let go of my hand.
I felt like I had broken a part of him… only hoping that I would be around to fix it.
Theo
By the time I had run to Arty’s room, a nurse was already replacing his sheets.
“What happened to the patient in this room?”
She looked at her chart. “He was just discharged—”
Reaching into my back pocket for my phone, I dialed his number, expecting to get his voicemail, but he answered on the first ring.
“I knew she would tell you.” He sighed on the other line.
There was so much I needed to say, but not over the phone.
“Where are you?”
