Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 120

It hadn’t even crossed her mind until Renee brought it up: Emma had never once appeared on Theodore’s social media. Not once. He hadn’t even posted about their wedding.

Renee messaged, “Emma, all our old classmates are scattered and busy these days, but next time there’s a break, make Theodore bring you along! What’s he playing at–afraid someone might steal you away?”

Emma offered a small smile, replying with a simple, “Sure.”

Renee shot back, “Your Theodore wiped his feed again. What’s his deal this time?”

Emma tapped into his profile and, sure enough, everything was gone. Of course, she knew why–she’d foolishly replied to one of his posts.

Renee: “Emma, do you and Theodore have a baby yet? I can’t even imagine–if you two had a kid, with your looks, that child would be absurdly gorgeous.”

Every word from Renee tonight seemed to hit a raw nerve, each message a little dagger sinking deeper.

But it wasn’t Renee’s fault.

Who would ever imagine a married man would publicly announce someone else as his partner online?

Emma answered honestly: “No, we don’t have a baby.”

There was a time she used to dream about it…

She’d wondered what their child might look like, even played around with a photo app to morph their faces together. Back then, she’d been naive enough to send it to Theodore.

He’d only replied, “I’m in a meeting. Don’t disturb me.”

She’d believed him, feeling guilty for interrupting, but then, as she went to close the curtains, she caught sight of him downstairs, standing alone in the garden, lost in thought.

He just didn’t want to come home until absolutely necessary.

And he definitely didn’t want to talk about children.

She changed the subject: “How are you, Renee? What have you been up to lately?”

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Renee replied, “Me? Working like crazy, like a mule! I’m with a construction firm now–drawing up plans, out on job sites every day. I’m on a business trip right now, but let’s hang out when I’m back!”

Emma sent back a “Sure.”

Renee: “Alright, I’ll stop bothering you before your Mr. Whitman complains I’m cutting into your private time, haha.”

Emma replied, “Good night, Renee.”

Renee sent back a goodnight emoji.

Their conversation left Emma unexpectedly curious about the world of social media she’d avoided for so long.

For five long years, she’d been completely cut off from the outside world–so insecure, so withdrawn, she’d severed every connection, even online.

Now, she started browsing her old friends‘ posts, flipping through old classmates‘ profiles. Their lives were colorful and vibrant.

She knew, of course, everyone had their own share of joys and struggles–nobody’s life was perfect. But everyone seemed to be pushing forward with all their strength.

Everyone except her.

But that was alright. Just wait for me, everyone–Emma’s catching up!

She scrolled past photos of Vivian showing off her designer bags, and her boyfriend, up late coding away. It seemed he worked in IT–two young people hustling for their future, full of hope and energy.

Of course, she also found Theodore’s profile and clicked in. The post he’d made earlier had vanished, just as she’d expected.

He hadn’t set his posts to disappear after three days or six months. His feed was simply spotless–like nothing had ever been there.

A man who never posted anything, and tonight he’d made a rare exception…

Emma put her phone down, turned off the light, and, for the first time in a while, drifted into peaceful sleep.

The next morning, she woke early, got ready, double–checked her visa paperwork, said goodbye to her grandmother, and took a cab to the consulate.

She scanned her ID, breezed through security, waited in line, and completed her

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interview without a hitch.

When the officer congratulated her, she finally let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

As she was leaving, the officer smiled. “You did great. I hope you have a wonderful experience abroad.”

“Thank you.” Emma’s heart was soaring. She just knew she would be happy.

She’d paid for expedited service, so her passport would be mailed back within five days–plenty of time to join Ms. Brown’s dance troupe with it in hand.

Just thirteen days left.

Each one counted down, she felt like a butterfly with new wings–ready to break free and take flight.

It was still early when she left the consulate, so she found a nearby café, sipped coffee in quiet reflection, grabbed a bite to eat, then headed to the Wellness Center for another round of Meridian Therapy and physical rehab.

Today’s session was even more grueling than yesterday.

The intense therapy from the day before had left her aching from head to toe–her fingers, even her scalp, felt sore. And now she had to do it all over again.

She broke out in a sweat as soon as she started, her clothes drenched within five

minutes.

“If you can’t handle it, just say so–don’t push yourself,” the nurse warned gently.

Emma, shaking and sweating, nodded, “I know. I’m alright. I can do this…”

She’d barely finished the sentence when her legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor with a thud.

“Are you okay?” The nurse rushed over, only to be shoved aside by a familiar figure.

Emma found herself swept up in Theodore’s arms, his eyes full of worry. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

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