Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 336

“Really?”

A flicker of doubt crossed Cecilia’s mind. She wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Of course,” Jared replied, his tone certain. “Besides, don’t forget—you’ve still got that ‘volunteer’ charm on your side. Just bring that up, and no matter what you’ve done, Theo will forgive you.”

Cecilia managed a strained smile.

That so-called charm… it wasn’t much of a shield, more like a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode and drag her down with it.

“What’s wrong?” Jared had noticed something off about her.

Cecilia couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth. She’d never been the volunteer he remembered from all those years ago. Back then, she was just hanging around the hospital room, and he—so handsome, so kind—had come by with gifts as thanks. She'd been smitten at first sight, drawn in by his looks and the expensive presents. It was easy to go along with the misunderstanding and accept the gifts. Why not?

“Don’t worry,” Jared reassured her, seeing the worry etched on her face. “Remember, we still have one last ace up our sleeve.”

Cecilia looked back at him, silent.

The next morning.

Theodore woke up on the living room couch.

He’d barely slept all night—when dawn finally crept through the curtains, he dozed off for only a short while before his alarm jolted him awake.

Emma had agreed to meet him at city hall at nine. He checked the time: seven o’clock.

One way or another, he had to go. Things were already bad enough—he couldn’t make it worse by standing her up and leaving her waiting.

He headed for the shower, catching his reflection in the mirror. Just one night had left him looking utterly worn out.

He looked awful—hardly presentable, and certainly not ready to face Emma.

After showering, he took extra care getting dressed, making sure every detail was in place. When he buttoned his shirt, the sapphire cufflinks caught the light and flashed sharply, almost hurting his eyes.

He traced his fingers over the gems, and after a moment’s hesitation, left the house.

He arrived at city hall by eight-thirty. Emma wasn’t there yet.

Resting both hands on the steering wheel, he stared out through the windshield. Sunlight streamed in, catching on his cufflinks once again.

He squinted—it looked like there were letters etched into the platinum setting.

He raised his arm for a closer look. Each cufflink was engraved with letters: one said EB, the other TW.

Emma and Theodore.

Suddenly, he remembered Emma writing out their wedding invitations.

Back then, she’d come home brimming with excitement, arms loaded with beautiful invitations. She’d waited for him to discuss the guest list—how many tables, how many cards to send out.

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