Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 205

Emma paused, deciding not to rush things.

If she brought up divorce now and Theodore refused again, she might not get another chance to leave.

Instead, she resolved to write a heartfelt letter over the next couple of days, one she’d leave for him on the day she left. Then, she’d let the next month serve as a cooling-off period—give him time to really think it over. When she returned, they could finalize everything, and the timing would work out; she could have the divorce certificate in hand just before heading off to school.

That evening, she decided to make herself some pasta.

She was in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil, when Theodore returned. His voice drifted in behind her. “It’s like stepping back in time. From behind, you look just like you did in high school.”

Emma turned. He was leaning against the kitchen doorframe, watching her. Was there a smile in his eyes? She couldn’t tell. The setting sun poured in from the window, bathing his face in a blur of golden light.

She turned back to rinse some scallions, but felt his arms suddenly wrap around her waist.

“Look at that sunset,” he murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Isn’t it gorgeous? Remember that picnic we went on? The sun was setting just like this. Everyone was lining up for a group photo, but you were still packing up, all flustered. You had on a white tee, your jacket tossed aside, your hair in a ponytail, facing the sunset…”

Emma couldn’t help but wonder: if he’d shown this kind of tenderness at any moment in the past five years, how moved would she have been?

But it was too late.

Thank goodness it was so late.

“That sunset was just as beautiful as this one,” he whispered, holding her tighter.

“Not the same,” she replied.

“What’s different?” He angled his head to catch her expression, teasing. “You’re not about to say we’re old now, are you?”

Emma hadn’t really thought about it.

Wasn’t this the man who supposedly didn’t know how to say sweet things? He was doing a pretty good job now. What’s gotten into him tonight?

“Theodore,” she teased, “are you feeling guilty about something?”

His whole demeanor screamed that he’d messed up and was trying to make it up to her.

“Ahem… What? Of course not…”

Emma scoffed. “Really? That’s your story?”

“Theodore, you don’t have to do this,” she said, her tone cool. “If you’re going to feel guilty, you’ve had plenty of chances before. You have all the time in the world to come find me, but I don’t have that much time to waste on you.”

With that, Theodore straightened up and let her go, his attitude snapping back to normal. “You know, you could try being a little more romantic? Must you always be so proper, so serious every day?”