Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 293

Cecilia’s Apartment

Morning.

Theodore woke with a pounding headache, as if someone had split his skull with an axe. He winced and rolled over, bracing for the usual misery of a hangover—only to discover something far more terrifying.

He yanked back the covers and looked down. Lightning shot through his brain. In an instant, the remnants of last night’s drunken fog evaporated.

He wasn’t wearing a thing.

Worse yet—he was unmistakably in Cecilia’s bedroom.

He didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t help himself. Slowly, he turned his head.

Sure enough, Cecilia was lying right beside him. The blanket barely covered half of her, and everything exposed was bare skin.

His mind spun in a wild panic, but his first instinct was to quickly pull the blanket over Cecilia, shielding her as best he could.

Just as he tried to piece together what had happened, a groggy voice echoed from the hallway—Jared, sounding half-awake. “Theo? Theo, where are you? Cici? Hey, where’d you guys go?”

Startled, Theodore scrambled out of bed—only to knock over a vase with a loud crash. The sound led Jared straight to the door.

“Uh—” Jared started, but his words died as he took in the scene: Theodore, disheveled and panicked, and Cecilia, only half-covered in bed.

Color drained from Theodore’s face. “No, wait, I—I don’t even know how—”

“Theo…” Cecilia stirred, clearly roused by their voices. She blinked, dazed, and then comprehension dawned. A sharp scream burst out of her as she wrapped herself tightly in the blanket, tears brimming in her eyes. “Theo…”

He vaguely remembered hugging her. But anything that happened after—his memory was a gaping void.

Suddenly, five years ago flashed before his eyes: Emma’s surgery, the moment she woke up and saw him. Her first words had been, “Theodore, promise me you’ll never drink again, okay?”

A wave of regret crashed over him.

He’d promised her. He’d kept that promise for five years—never touched a drop, not even when Jared and the others were out celebrating. He’d always stuck to water, or maybe tea.

But now, five years later, he’d broken his word.

“Theo…” Cecilia crawled to the edge of the bed, still wrapped in the blanket, and gently tugged on his arm. “Don’t be upset. I’m not going to ask you to take responsibility. Let’s just pretend nothing happened, and once we leave this room, we forget about all of it. You don’t have to worry, okay?”

“Enough,” Jared finally spoke, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. “What’s done is done. Time doesn’t go backward. Theo, Cici isn’t making a fuss, so why look so miserable? Guys like you—successful men—always have a backup plan or two. It’s not like Cici’s going to compete with Emma. You can take care of both, right? Keep things good with Emma, set Cici up somewhere else. And hey, if you and Emma ever have a fight, you’ve got a place to go. Cici will always be here for you.”