I try to duck under his arm and run, but he shifts and pushes me back against the wall.
"Clearly, you're not going to help, so?—"
"What kind of help do you need?" His voice is flat, emotionless.
"A lot maybe? I—I don't know, Theo. I'm in trouble," I say. I hate how my voice shakes. I've survived so much, stayed strong through everything, but standing before him now, I'm crumbling. "Serious trouble, I think."
He looks around for a moment, and I can't tell if it's to make sure no one is coming to see how he's pinning me in place or if it's because he's debating leaving me to fend for myself.
After a few moments, he sighs, and I can see he hates himself for what he's about to say, and I don't blame him.
"How serious is it?" he asks.
"The kind that gets people killed." I swallow hard. "Please, Theo. I wouldn't have come back if?—"
"If what?" His face is now inches from mine. "If you had literally any other option? Because God forbid you actually want to see me."
"That's not fair?—"
"Fair?" He laughs. "You want to talk about what's fair, Stassi? How about vanishing without a trace? How about me calling your phone for days until it went dead and you changed your number. Or about me tearing apart everywhere between Athens and Chicago looking for you," he says and then rubs his face, "No goodbye, no explanation. Just gone. Three years we were each other's lives and then you're fucking gone. Is that what you consider fair?"
I push against his chest, desperate for space, for air that doesn't smell like him. "You don't understand."
"Then make me understand."
"I couldn't—" My voice cracks, tears threatening. I blink them back. I can't be weak.
"Whose fault is that?"
The anger in his voice should frighten me. Instead, I find that I've missed it. The Theo I knew always burned hot. It's the coldness I never could handle.
"I need your protection." I force the words out. "Just for a little while. Then I'll be gone, and you'll never have to see me again."
Something dangerous flashes in his eyes. "Is that a promise or a threat?"
I flinch. "Theo, please?—"
"Who's after you?"
"I can't…I don't…I can't tell you right now. Especially not here where someone could hear anyhow," I say, my chest rising and falling rapidly with every emotion possible, some I didn't expect to feel.
He studies me for a long moment. His eyes rake over my face, reading me like he always could. "You're genuinely scared."
I nod.
"Please," I whisper. "I promise, if there was—" I clear my throat, "I wouldn't have contacted you if there was any other way."
"Yeah, I get that." His voice is suddenly more stern and controlled now. "The note on my windshield. You were going to leave it and disappear again if I hadn't seen you. Would you have even shown your face to me?"
The truth burns on my tongue. "I wasn't ready. I needed time to prepare, but I put my number on?—"
"For what?" he demands, not letting me finish. "What exactly were you preparing for, Stassi? My reaction? After what you did, what reaction did you expect?"
"This one," I say softly, closing my eyes, not wanting to see his face when I admit it. "Exactly this one, Theo. And you're not wrong, it’s just I thought it would be easier over the phone.”
He goes rigid, and for a second I think he'll walk away, which would be the right thing for him to do I guess, consideringeverything. But Theo never did the smart thing when it came to me, even when he should have.
Theo stares at me, those blue eyes assessing what I can only imagine are my dark circles and shaky demeanor and the way I keep glancing over his shoulder toward the street.