Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 237

But there was no way she could lift Theodore.

Once someone is drunk, they seem to gain twice their weight; he was dead weight in her arms. Cecilia barely managed to prop him up before his legs gave out and he slumped back down.

“Cici, let me help you…” Jared, who was only tipsy, looped Theodore’s arm over his own shoulders. With that, he managed to half-drag, half-carry Theodore out of the restaurant.

The place was right next to Cecilia’s apartment complex, so Jared brought Theodore straight to her place.

“Cici, I’ll leave Theo to you. He’s had way too much—all yours tonight. I won’t get in the way of whatever you two have planned,” Jared said, eyebrows waggling with a teasing grin.

Cecilia shot him a playful glare. “Oh, please. Get out of here with your nonsense!”

She shut the door behind him without another word.

Theodore collapsed onto the couch. His shirt, which had already been unbuttoned at the collar, now had two more buttons undone, revealing the lean muscle of his chest.

“Theo…” Cecilia approached, calling to him softly.

He frowned, as if half-awake.

“Theo, we’re home,” she whispered. “How about a shower and then bed?” She reached for his shirt buttons, her fingers gentle.

The moment she touched him, his eyes snapped open.

“Who’s there?” he muttered, voice rough and confused.

“It’s me, Cici!” she replied. “Don’t you remember? Today’s your birthday. We just celebrated together—sang songs, reminisced about old times…”

He blinked, trying to focus, struggling to clear the haze. “Cici?”

“Yes, it’s me. You’ve had too much to drink, and we—”

She watched helplessly as Theodore disappeared into the elevator, clenching her jaw in frustration. “Grandma, grandma! That old hag just won’t die and still wants to steal my man! She’s going to be the death of me!”

Her eyes darted with calculation.

Meanwhile, Theodore leaned heavily against the elevator wall, pressing the button for the first floor. When the doors opened, someone stepped inside and, seeing his drunken state, asked, “Sir, which floor do you need? This is the first floor.”

Theodore seemed to wake from a dream, muttered a quick “Thank you,” and stumbled out.

The security guard recognized him—he’d seen Theodore before, back when he helped Cecilia buy the apartment, and he’d visited more than once. Seeing him now, clearly drunk, the guard hurried over. “Sir, are you heading home?”

“Home…” Theodore repeated, dazed. He fumbled for his phone. “Call me a car, please…”

He typed in the destination: Stonehaven, his grandmother’s address. When he finished, he turned to the guard and slurred, “Going to Grandma’s for dinner.”