Page 28 of Where We Call Home

“If you don’t want to talk to me about it, fine,” Boone said, exhaling sharply. “But you need help, real help. Drinking yourself stupid isn’t the answer. You’re lucky none of the guys know I came here tonight. I won’t tell them, and I’ll never bring this up again, however, you need to hear me, Rhodes.”

I didn’t move. I didn’t look at him.

“Words,” he pressed. “I need words.”

“I hear you,” I muttered finally, my voice barely audible.

He nodded and stood. “I’m not leaving until you’re sound asleep, and I’m taking your keys.”

Boone gave me a sad smile before walking out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

That night, he slept on my couch. The next morning, I woke up with my head pounding and found him passed out, his feet propped on the coffee table.

Despite my best efforts, I remembered everything. Boone kept his word, and we never spoke about it again.

Nine

If I stayed in this house any longer, I’d lose my ever-loving mind, not to mention run out of true crime documentaries to watch. It was unsettling how much crime happened without us even realizing it. The human psyche was a strange, dark place.

I needed to get out of bed and shower, if only to feel a little more human. Without much to do, I could easily spend all day here, eating my body weight in snacks.

Exhaustion was my constant companion, dragging me down even when Iwantedto move. It wasn’t like I was working anymore. My days of traveling the world, camera in hand were behind me, for now, at least.

Could you imagine me, heavily pregnant, running to capture the perfect shot or lying in a field waiting for the right moment? Sure, I’d never been on a safari or in any real danger, but agility was a requirement. These days, I was about as nimble as an elephant.

Life looked so different than it had just a few months ago. I’d never been one to stay in one place for long, always on the go. Being confined felt like a shock to the system. My mind still wanted to move, but my body? It screamed,Who are you kidding?

I couldn’t argue with the backaches and swollen ankles. Even putting on shoes had become a huge task. Slip-on Birkenstocks were my saving grace, unless my mom was around to help me wrestle into a pair of boots. With her schedule as a vet tech at a 24-hour emergency clinic, I couldn’t rely on her every time I needed something. And then there was the looming question: how would a baby fit into her already hectic life?

With effort, I rolled out of bed, planting my feet firmly on the floor before hoisting myself upright. Waddling to my dresser, I pulled out a fresh pair of pajamas, a cute set with cartoon tigers, because I wasn’t about to let pregnancy rob me of that small joy. I’d be a matching set girl until the day I die.

Clutching the clothes to my chest, I made my way to the bathroom and shut the door. I paused there, hands braced on the vanity, head hanging low between my shoulders. I needed a moment to gather myself.

My thoughts were relentless, racing endlessly through my mind—negative, intrusive, exhausting. Loneliness was a constant presence, and since the texts during my last doctor’s appointment, I hadn’t answered Aspen or Penny. Saying no or explaining myself had become too tiring. How could I expect them to understand when they hadn’t lived this?

That realization only made me feel more like an animal on display, navigating this unfamiliar territory while everyone else stood on the outside, watching.

I glanced up, catching my reflection in the mirror. The face staring back at me was barely recognizable—puffy, but at least my skin was glowing, right? Stepping back, I surveyed the rest of me. My belly peeked out beneath my shirt, a sliver of skin catching the light. I lifted the shirt over my head, exposing stretch marks and the strange new shape of my belly button.

This body wasn’t mine. At least, it didn’t feel like it. The changes were undeniable, physical and otherwise. I’d been warned that pregnancy would be hard, but no one could’ve prepared me for how disorienting it would be. My sense of self felt like it was unraveling, slipping through my fingers. I wasn’t just Theo, the photographer, or Theo, the friend anymore. Soon, I’d be Theo, the mom.

The weight of it brought tears to my eyes. One slipped free, and I wiped it away with my thumb. Being the first in my friend group to have a baby meant I didn’t have many people to confide in. No one truly understood what it was like to stand at the edge of a life-altering change.

Sniffling, I turned to the shower and twisted the faucet. Baths had once been my sanctuary, but my mom’s house didn’t have a tub, and even if it did, getting in and out would’ve been a whole ordeal. I’d never stoop to asking for help with that.

The warm water hit my back, soothing the aches and tension. I closed my eyes, letting the steam envelop me, and tried to redirect my thoughts to something lighter.

To Rhodes.

The storm in my head quieted, replaced by a gentle warmth that spread through me. Rhodes had been a constant in my mind lately, his calming presence and shy demeanor something I wasn’t used to but craved all the same.

I thought about the way he’d approached me on Main Street, his awkward attempts at flirting making my heart flutter. Despite everything, he’d come back into my life, and that meant something. He saw something in me worth coming back for.

The way he’d looked at me during dinner, his gaze darkening when I’d licked the sauce from my thumb. That spark of desire had been unmistakable. It was thrilling, seeing him so affected by something as simple as that.

The memory made my breath hitch. My thoughts wandered to what he might look like shirtless, his broad shoulders and strong hands. A heat pooled low in my belly, spreading through me like wildfire.

I tilted my head back, letting the water hit my chest as the tension inside me built. My hands moved instinctively, one sliding up to cup my breast, the other trailing lower, teasing over sensitive skin.

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