Page 93 of Wilder at Heart
And yet, she wants him. Because, unlike me, Nora is capable of making life decisions based on something other than the needs of her sex organs, which I respect. Intimacy and loyalty and steadfastness are important to her. Crucial. And they’re things she doesn’t believe I can give her.
He dumped her,I tell myself.He doesn’t fucking deserve this. He’s with someone else.
He’s what she wants, I counter.He’sallshe wants, and you said you’d get him for her. You had a deal. And all you want is for her to be happy.
Atruism.
It really fucking sucks.
I clear my throat.
Just say it.
‘It’s about Nora.’
CHAPTER 35
Nora
Theo’s been weird all week.
When I got back from the Hertfordshire wedding, which was bloody exhausting, I found him on the sofa, grooming Olive, who didn’t even run over to greet me. Her pink grooming bag was next to him, brushes and combs strewn on the sofa. He’d even put clips with tiny pink bows on them all over her ears.
She looked adorable.
He looked tired, but handsome as hell.
And my ovaries did a salute as he stood up, bedazzled little dog in his arms, to welcome me back with a kiss.
Since then, he hasn’t been himself. He seems distracted. He’s quieter than normal. More subdued. I’d be paranoid he’d got sick of me, except that he’s being even more affectionate than normal. Ensuring a body part of ours is touching at every possible moment. Insisting we shower together. And when I’ve woken in the night, he’s been wrapped around me, clinging to me like his life depends on it.
I’ve asked him whether everything’s okay, of course. A couple of times. And he claims he’s absolutely fine.
At least that reassures me. If I’ve learnt one thing from shacking up with Theo Montague, it’s that he says whatever’s on his mind. No matter how excruciating, or emotionally slutty.
So I have to assume that it’s the stress of preparing for his pitch to his family this week, as well as the slightly weird situation we find ourselves in, knowing our time together is limited.
Severely limited.
Because the workmen should be finished at Elle’s house tomorrow, and Olive and I officially have no more excuse to be here. Especially since I have no doubt Theo’s presentation to his family this week will go brilliantly, and my services as the supportive, sensible girlfriend will no longer be required.
If I thought France was a blissful, fleeting bubble, then these past few days at Theo’s flat have been even more so.
Playing house.
Spending every available minute wrapped around each other.
Like the most intense relationship that never was.
I can’t believe I’m going to have to walk away, and a guilty part of me hopes Theo is feeling equally conflicted.
I tell myself it’s a good thing. I’ve totally taken my foot off the gas in terms of pursuing Jonathan, and I need to resume my plan. I’m hoping I’ll find it easier to get my head back in the Jonathan game once I’ve put some space between Theo and me.
Just because Romeo’s not right for me long term, it doesn’t mean he hasn’t consumed all my brain functionality in the short term.
Anyway, Jonathan’s now coming to the wedding next week. Apparently, Miles felt bad about having invited the rest of senior management and not him. It’s been annoying from a table plan perspective, but I can’t deny it’s the perfect opportunity to try to catch his eye in a romantic setting.
I just wish I felt more excited about it. I had a text from him, actually. While I was at the wedding yesterday. It just saidI need to talk to you. Can we grab a coffee? x
