Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 202

Theodore pulled Emma into his arms.

He said nothing, just held her close.

Emma didn’t struggle. She couldn’t be bothered to waste the energy anymore.

It was a long time before she finally broke the silence. “Are you done yet? My feet are killing me.”

Only then did Theodore let go. “I’m sorry,” he said, and without hesitation, lifted her up and carried her to the bed. “You must be exhausted. Want to rest for a bit?”

Emma didn’t respond.

Theodore’s expression darkened. “Emma, I know what happened today was hard on you, but… given the situation, I didn’t really have a choice.”

“A choice?” Emma let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “You really want to call that a choice? That’s a bold word to use, Theodore.”

“Emma…” He sighed. “Cici cares a lot about her appearance…”

“And I don’t?” Her words cut him off. “Is that what you’re saying?”

Theodore faltered, struggling for words. “No, Emma… That’s not what I meant. But Cici works in the public eye. If her face is ruined, her whole life changes. She isn’t married yet. Her looks—they matter a lot to her.”

Emma gave a slow, deliberate nod. “So what you’re really saying is, I’m already married, I don’t have a job, I just stay home… so my face doesn’t matter. Is that it?”

“That’s not it. Of course you matter, Emma. But… in an emergency, if I had to choose, Cici’s face… it’s just—well, you already—” He glanced at her injured foot and let the rest trail off.

Emma understood, and her smile was tinged with sorrow. “I get it. My foot’s already ruined. I’m already damaged goods, right? So if my face is ruined too, it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

“Emma…” He tried desperately to explain, “You have me. I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life. It doesn’t matter what you look like. As long as you’re you, you’ll always be Mrs. Whitman—”

“Stop.” Her laugh was icy. “Is being Mrs. Whitman supposed to be some grand prize? Worth trading a leg for? And now my face, too?”

“Stop twisting my words—”

“No,” Emma replied. “Didn’t you say it yourself? Cecilia needs her looks for her job, for her future. Her face can’t be damaged.”

“That’s right! That’s exactly what I meant. You really understand?”

“Of course I do.” She understood perfectly.

Given a choice, Theodore saved the woman he truly loved. What was there not to understand?

But understanding—what difference did it make?

It was just knowing the facts, the same way she understood her father had handed her over to criminals to pay off his gambling debt. Knowing the reason didn’t mean she didn’t hate him. Didn’t mean she hadn’t marked a big red X over his name in her heart.

Theodore was no different.

I know why you did it, but I’m sorry. In my heart, your actions already have a big, scarlet X drawn over them.