I frown. That’s it? No explanation? No follow-up?
I fire off a reply.
Me
What’s wrong?
No response.
I wait for the little typing bubble to appear. Nothing.
Great.
I sigh, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder before heading downstairs. Whatever’s happening, it must be urgent—Theo never texts like that. Since we exchanged phone numbers we have been messaging on and off a bit. About the weather, his brothers bugging him, my growing army, and my personal favourite: videos of Lucy telling me goodnight. Friends stuff. But he doesn’t do dramas… usually.
I push open the door to The Kaiser’s Mug, and the scent of rich coffee and freshly baked pastries wraps around me instantly. The place is already heaving for it being barely eleven in the morning—every table occupied, the gentle clatter of waiters stacking crockery mixing with the low hum of conversation.
Despite the morning rush, everything still runs with the precision Theo demands. His staff, dressed in crisp white shirts and neatly pressed waistcoats, move effortlessly between tables, balancing trays of coffee and delicate slices ofSachertorte. The polished wooden counter gleams under the soft lighting, and the glass cake display is fully stocked—Apfelstrudel,Gugelhupf, and perfectly layered cakes waiting to be served.
Theo is behind the counter. His jaw is tight, his movements just a little too sharp, and there’s a tension in his body that immediately sets off alarm bells in my head.
He glances up as I step forward, and the second he sees the bag slung over my shoulder, his expression falls.
“Oh,” he says, voice tight. “You have plans.”
I shake my head. “Ignore that. What’s up?”
He hesitates, his fingers gripping the edge of the counter like he’s weighing his options. I know that look—he’s trying to figure out how to handle this alone, even though it’s already clear he can’t.
I arch a brow. “Theo.”
That does it. He exhales sharply, sliding the finished coffee onto a tray before leaning in slightly, voice low over the noise of the café.
“Jasper took Lucy for the day,” he says. “They went back to his place. But he just called me—he’s fallen, and he thinks he’s broken his arm.”
My stomach clenches. “Is he okay?”Stupid question, Ivy, the man broke his arm!
“He says he will be,” Theo replies, but his expression is strained. “The problem is, he needs to get himself to hospital, but he can’t exactly take Lucy with him. Geoff’s not available, and I don’t know what to do.”
I don’t even think about it.
“Give me the address,” I say immediately.
Theo’s jaw tightens. “Ivy…no. I can’t ask you to cancel your plans.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not asking. I’m offering.”
He hesitates, his shoulders tense with that familiar internal struggle—grateful but reluctant, torn between accepting help and insisting he’ll figure it out himself.
“Theo,” I say firmly. “Just give me the address.”
He exhales, defeated, and pulls his phone from his pocket. “I can tell you how to get there by train—”
“Don’t bother,” I cut in, already unlocking my own phone. “I’m getting Christa to drive me.”
That makes him pause. “Wait. You’rereally—?”
“Yes,” I grin, already texting. “Now stop wasting time and send me the address.”
