Chapter twenty-two   Sam  I sneak glances at Theo as his friends tell us the story of his childhood, and then, his teenage years. It’s obvious that his mum’s death had quite an impact on him. Perfectionist, success-driven Theo who has rushed through life to please anyone but himself. He never gave himself time to process his heartbreak or think about what he wanted next. I can tell how anxious he is, and this is something I’ve become familiar with in the past few months. I caress his hand to try to soothe him, and I don’t know if it works, but he squeezes my hand as a response every now and then.   It’s heartbreaking to see him, looking down as everyone tells their funny travel stories. I watch his face going from thoughtful to straight-up sad as everyone laughs. He makes the occasional menacing comment, but I think he does it just to cover up his mood.   It’s not that he couldn’t afford it. It’s just he cou

Theo   I didn’t know how bad my anxiety was until Sam came along. Logically, I knew my attacks of worrying and pacing around the house weren’t normal, but I didn’t know how much they affected me until now.   Last week, we were lying in bed, and it was late. I couldn’t sleep and was staring at the ceiling, my heart racing wildly when he caressed my cheek.   “You’re anxious. I can practically hear your brain going now. Like an old laptop,” He whispered in the dark.   I threw both hands over my face and laughed at his description. This beautiful man.   “Jesus Christ. I am, all the time. I think about every single thing that could go wrong about basically everything and anything in my life.”   He removed my hands gently from my face and replaced them with his, forcing me to look at him.  He was sitting up, scanning my face. I could barely see his eyes, but I

Sam Andrea asked Theo if she could come to witness the whole thing. I casually mentioned it over breakfast one day and her eyes lit up. She said she loves these kinds of ceremonies. It didn’t take long for his doctorate to become a frequent topic of conversation between them. They’re mad about academia in general, so that’s something else they have in common, besides their music and literature taste. They spend hours talking about their favourite Shakespeare analogies and the hidden meaning behind Ana Karenina while I get dinner ready on the times she and Jack come over. He once fell asleep on the sofa. That’s how bored he was with their whole conversation. That makes things easy for me, though. because I can simply ask her for recommendations to surprise Theo. It’s all pretty fucking great, to be honest. I made the suggestion sheepishly. I didn’t know if he’d be down for it with all his anxiety, but he was over the moon to be asked that. She helped him p

Theo I can’t help but let the wave of sadness that fills my chest drag me down. I feel guilty, like I did something wrong. Like He’ll finally see who I am and now that he’s gotten what he wanted, he’ll get up and leave. He’s going to leave me. Loud laugh Sam, with his pretty lashes and his fluffy dog is going to leave me now. I can feel it. He’ll withdraw his arms from me in a second and get dressed, even at this hour. My tears are rolling freely, and I tuck my cheek in, trying to hide my face from him. The room isn’t even that dark, since he insisted on keeping the lamp on my bedside table on, and right now, I curse the light that shines on my face. I don’t want him to think I care. If he leaves now, I can at least try to pretend for a bit and once he’s gone, I can finally crumble. At first, I don’t think he notices, but then I feel him lean over me. I stay dea

Sam’s stumbling around the room wakes me up. I roll over and tuck my hands between my thighs. Now that he’s opened the door to his bedroom, it’s so cold. I glance at his old alarm clock on the nightstand and I barely make out the time: 6:35 a.m. I groan and throw my arm over my eyes. I don’t really know how he does it. By this time, before leaving for work, he has already showered, eaten breakfast and is all bouncy, smelling of his fresh cologne. Meanwhile, I’m losing the battle against sleep.  I feel him kissing me good morning, a soft, gentle kiss that’s borderline sexy, but I grin against his lips anyway. “Bye.” I mumble. He kisses my cheek as a reply and I resist the urge to pull him back into bed. His breath smells like coffee and it instantly makes me crave a nice, sweet latte, not the ghastly instant stuff Simon likes to drink. Maybe later I’ll drop by the coffee shop downtown. It’s not like I have much planned. He tosses his house keys at