An Extra Pump of Sugar

Chapter 35

Fuck.

He reached the end of the first wall, and as he pivoted to observe the second half of the exhibit, his gaze brushed mine. Then froze.

Our eyes locked, and I swore the collision knocked the earth off its axis.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck...

I swallowed, startled by how much this man still affected me. But if his deer-in-headlights expression was anything to go by, he was just as unprepared for this reunion as I was.

"...I gotta go," I told Baker.

"For the love of god, keep me on speaker phone!"

"No."

"Please, bitch—"

I hung up on the wailing woman, then offered Theo a feeble grin. "Hi..."

My greeting eased some of the stress on his face, and he tilted his head at the closest photograph. "How much for the coffee portrait?"

"Free of charge," I offered. "With that prison cell of an apartment, you need décor more than anyone."

"...I didn't realize you were the interior design police."

"That's your mistake."

He grinned at our old repartee, and we drew closer to one another, the first of many barriers destroyed.

Honestly, I didn't know how I'd react if I ever saw him again. Over the past three months, I'd played out a hundred hypothetical situations in my mind, some of them pleasant, some of them petty. But now that I was standing in front of him, doing my best to avoid the gravity of those kind, hazel eyes, I realized I had no reason to be paranoid.

Theo had always been a safe place for Carl and me, and his absence hadn't changed that. He was still as warm and prickly as a Cholla cactus, and despite what we'd been through, a refuge to this desert settler.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice low and raspy in his throat, as if he hadn't spoken at all this summer.

"I'm...doing okay." All things considered. I reflected on my busy year and the progress I'd made—internally and otherwise—and lifted my shoulders. "I'm happy."

He lowered his chin and smiled. "I can tell. It's a good look on you."

I wanted to tell him the same thing about his fancy ass suit, but I knew better. Flirting couldn't hide the bruises. "Don't take this the wrong way...but what are you doing here, Theo?"

In all our time together, he'd never once expressed interest in the fine arts. Unless you counted anti-capitalist graffiti and political cartoons. But standing in a pristine hallway, dressed the way he was...he looked like puzzle piece thrown in the wrong box.

"I saw your name in the alumni newsletter," he said, biting his lip like he was afraid the real reason might slip out. "Thought I'd come support you."

Bullshit.

"Well...thanks."

We stared at each other for a while, tiptoeing around the craters in our hearts.

There was so much to be said between us, so much pain clouding the water...that I wasn't sure wading any further was worth the effort. But I couldn't deny that I'd learned invaluable things about myself because of him. And looking back now, the mistakes that brought us down seemed so trivial and juvenile in the grand scheme of things.

All but one.

"How's Alyssa?" I asked, sprinting for the point and running it over before my emotions got the better of me.