Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 37

“Open it yourself!” She stood rooted to the spot, turning her head away, pressing her back against the wall, clutching the envelope tight in her hand.

He looked at her with a touch of exasperation. “Your temper’s really been flaring up lately.”

But he didn’t push her further, nor did he suspect she was hiding anything behind her. Instead, he simply headed inside.

In the end, it was Fallon who opened the package, while Emma quickly stashed her report card and hurried back to the guest room.

“Emma, we’re heading out.” Theodore’s voice called to her from the hallway.

She turned around. “Theodore! Would you mind showing me some respect? Can you stop springing things on me as if I’m just supposed to follow orders?”

He appeared in the doorway. “Mrs. Whitman, is today really last–minute? It’s your father’s birthday.”

Emma fell silent.

“Or would you rather I go alone?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her answer.

“Wait, let me change.” She started to close the door.

But he reached out and blocked it, his gaze dark and questioning. “Is closing the door really necessary? Or is this about that kid you danced with the other night?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous!” With a sharp tug, she shut the door in his face.

They’d been married five years. Since when had she ever changed in front of him? In fact, he’d started the whole habit–acting like marrying her meant he’d lose all sense of decency. He was always buttoned up, even in pajamas, never letting his guard down for a second. And now, all of a sudden, he had a problem with her closing the door?

If that’s not insanity, what is?

When she came out dressed, Theodore was waiting for her on the sofa.

“Let’s go.” She caught sight of the stack of gifts on the coffee table–clearly prepared by Theodore for her dad. A thick envelope, probably stuffed with several thousand

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Chapter 38

The words “You’ll never dance again” hit both of them like a fatal blow.

Emma could still remember Theodore’s reaction when he first heard it. After the initial shock, it was as if the life had been drained out of him.

From that moment on, the vibrant Theodore was gone.

Both of them were shackled by the word “never.” She would never set foot on the stage again, and he would spend the rest of his life atoning for it.

“I failed her.” Those three words became the unbearable weight he carried every day.

From then on, Theodore was dead in all but name. What remained was only Emma’s husband–a hollow man, going through the motions, devoid of warmth or feeling, performing his duties as a husband, son–in–law, and brother–in–law like some emotionless machine.

But now, he seemed alive again.

Cecilia had come back, and with her, she brought the light back into his life.

He started to smile again, and there was a spark in his eyes that hadn’t been there for

years.

Emma couldn’t help but sigh deeply. After all this, why couldn’t he just let her go? Why couldn’t he set himself free, too?

“We’re here.”

Theodore’s voice broke through her thoughts. They’d arrived at the parking garage beneath her parents‘ building.

She got out of the car in silence while Theodore opened the back door and started unloading their things.

To her surprise, the fancy wine and cigars weren’t the only gifts meant for her father; there was also a large, ornate gift box–she had no idea what was inside.

There were so many boxes that Theodore had to make three trips to get them all into the elevator.

If his friends could see him now, she thought, they’d probably talk about her behind his back again. They’d say, “That woman is a curse for our Theo. Look at his status, and she’s just the daughter of a washed–up family. Yet here he is, running around like

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Chapter 38

a servant for her folks.”

She couldn’t help but sneer.

Honestly, she agreed–even his friends weren’t wrong. Even she felt Theodore was wasting himself. A greedy, thankless family like hers didn’t deserve this much effort.

He was carrying the last box into the elevator when he caught sight of her smirk. After pressing the button for her floor, he asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” She couldn’t exactly tell him she was laughing at his foolishness.

The elevator climbed to her parents‘ floor.

“You go on in. I’ll bring the rest,” he said.

She stepped out and stood by the door, waiting for him.

When he came out, arms full, he couldn’t help but sigh. “Are you just going to block the elevator like that?”

She obediently moved aside.

He shook his head. “This is your own home.”

She lowered her head.

Was it really her home?

She didn’t think so.

It was her brother’s home, her parents‘ home.

This was the same family that, after her accident left her unable to dance, never once showed her any pity–only concern for how much money they might get from the insurance company. How could she possibly call this place her home?

And truthfully, Theodore was far more welcome here than she was.

Only after unloading everything did Theodore ring the doorbell.

Her parents had been expecting them, and as soon as the bell rang, they hurried to open the door. When her mother saw Theodore, her face lit up and she ushered him in as if he were her own son.

Emma couldn’t help but think that if she didn’t follow Theodore inside, her mother probably wouldn’t even notice her absence.

Theodore’s first order of business was handing out gifts.

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Wine, cigars, and that big mysterious box.

When Emma saw what was inside, she almost couldn’t believe it–a top–of–the–line fishing tackle set.

Her father had recently become obsessed with fishing, but she was stunned to realize this set cost more than most cars.

“My boy! You actually bought it for me? Fantastic! Wonderful!” her father exclaimed over and over, beaming with pride.

So he’d actually asked Theodore for this?

How could he have the nerve!