Lovespoken (Theo James)

Chapter 21

I do not know what to make of this speculation with Theo. Part of me wants to let him off the hook. The other wants to confront him, demand to know what his problem is. Either way, I can not bring myself to do either. Instead I find a middle ground. Which I have convinced myself is better for the time being. My anger will be unleashed when the time is right.

Until that time strolls along, I will fit into the daily routine of what is my life with Theo. Though, I'm lying to myself if I say it will be easy. It will not. Every time I look at him I will see betrayal, dishonesty. I will be hostile. It doesn't hurt to let him know something is bothering me. That way when I do unleash my fury it won't seem like I pulled it out of my ass.

When I arrive at Theo's house it takes me a few minutes of prepping myself before entering the place I was beginning to call home. Now it feels foreign to me. Made up of wood and stone from another land, another planet. The smell fills my nostrils, burning my eyes at the reminder of the words spilled that meant nothing.

Theo is pacing in the kitchen when I enter. His hands run anxiously through his hair, the phone to his ear. When he hears my footsteps he spins around, eyes relaxing once they set upon me.

Slowly I walk to the counter. Placing my bag and jingling keys on the marble with hesitation. How could I have been so brave as to come back here? If I was smart I would have stayed away.

I am not smart.

"Where were you?" He asks, eyes searching, "Haley you had be worried sick. I called work, I called the hospital, I even called Colin to see if he knew anything."

I'm surprised he had the guts to call Colin. By the way Theo looks at me I know Colin did not say anything about the kiss for he still has the same expression written on his face as every single time our eyes meet; hopeless fascination. He looks at me like I am a princess and he is nothing but a poor boy that will give anything to be noticed by her. He looks at me like I am Bella Swan and he is my Edward Cullen. He looks at me like he might love me.

But how can I believe anything he ever says again? How can I believe the actions or looks ever directed at me again? He's an actor. That's what he does best. Our entire relationship is built off of a lie. Except for my feelings of course. If only I wasn't irrevocably in love with him.

I decide telling him I got the apartment would hurt him. So instead I settle on a pathetic lie. If only I could be as good at it as he is.

"I felt sick when I left work so I pulled into a motel."

"You could have called me. I would have come gotten you," he says sternly, obviously not buying it.

"I know but it was late and I didn't want to bother you by making you come all the way out to get me," I say with a poker face. My heart hurts simply being in the same room as him.

"I was up waiting for you. You could have at least called to tell me what was going on," he urges. What does he want from me?

I guess an apology will do. "I know. I'm sorry."

That seems to do the trick because his face softens and he moves toward me. When his arms weave around me I stiffen. The last thing I need is to be in his embrace. He's a liar. Nothing but a dirty liar.

"Are you alright?" He asks me, dropping his hands to his sides.

"Just tired. I didn't sleep well," I say, moving away from him.

"How 'bout I make you some breakfast?"

I'm not hungry but I nod anyway. Anything to get his probing eyes off of me for a minute at least. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this façade. Especially when glancing at him makes me want to cry.