Page 38 of Darn Knit All
I did as told, but it felt like a blockage had been put in place at the top of my lungs, preventing the air from reaching my chest.
I hadn’t had enough time to consider all the possible outcomes of kissing Theo. I mean, I had in a theoretical sense considered it at some point—because hello anxiety. But pushing this all on me right now felt overwhelming. I needed time to think about what this would do to our relationship. Who we would be after we kissed. What would happen next.
I wheezed, panic constricting my chest.
“Slower,” Theo coaxed, his voice soft and low. “With me.”
He caught my hand and pressed it above his heart. The solid, even thud under my palm felt reassuring as his chest rose with one long breath. Theo held it for a beat of four before letting it out slowly.
I followed him, hating that I needed his guidance in how to do something every human on this Earth knew how to do since birth. Anger, frustration, and embarrassment swirled as I tried to do what my psychologist had taught me—to detach my thoughts from the emotion.
“You can observe your reactions and emotions without judgment, Mai,” she’d told me. “There is no need to be afraid or apologetic about what you’re feeling. Anxiety and panic have kept us alive for centuries. Acknowledge them and let it pass.”
’Twas easier said than done.
“Are you sure Linc is okay with you taking six weeks?” I asked, trying to distract myself.
Theo nodded. “Now that Garrett-Harris Paper has evolved into a thriving enterprise, I’m all but superfluous to their needs.”
I forced a laugh out of my dry mouth. “That’s a sixteen-point word in scrabble.”
He chuckled. “Little nerd. What I mean is, I’m not really sure why I’m even still there.” A strange look crossed his face, something vulnerable and uncertain, before he wiped it away behind a mask of good cheer.
“Don’t do that.”
His eyebrows rose. “Do what?”
“Hide your uncertainty.” I gestured between us. “If you have my back, let me have yours.”
“I don’t want to burden you with my insecurities.”
I reared back. “Is that how you see me? As a burden?”
“What? Fuck no.”
I swallowed. “Then why not let me help?” I practically read his mind as he opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. “God forbid, Theo. You better not have been about to say, ‘but this is different.’”
He had the decency to look ashamed. “It… kind of is?”
“No, it’s not.”
He sighed, pushing up from the ground to shuffle around my living room. His movements were awkward, twitchy. He seemed to need to move to process the uncertainty that had settled on his shoulders.
“I don’t love my job.” I could hear the apprehension in his voice. “And yet, I can’t see myself working anywhere else. I don’t have the drive to go to university, don’t have a burning desire or dream to fulfill, I’m just….” He shrugged. “Floating.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. There was something about the way he said “floating” that worried me.
“Are you okay?”
His lips tilted up, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Let’s concentrate on your dreams and getting through the next six weeks before we worry about me.”
I wanted to protest, but the words slipped away from me when I saw the guarded expression on his face. Experience had taught me that Theo rarely enjoyed revealing aspects of his life before he felt emotionally ready to dig into an issue. If I pushed, he’d deflect with humor.
Respecting his request, I nodded, tucking our conversation away for further exploration when he was ready to do so.
“Good.” He made a move to sit back down beside me, but instead, awkwardly rolled on his prosthetic, tripping onto my couch.
I bit my tongue to keep from checking on him, already knowing Theo would hate me fussing.
