Chapter 21
Being a light sleeper was both a gift and a curse at the same time. It was a sleeping trait Abigail developed after everything with Nicholas. It saved her a lot of trouble on mornings when she fell asleep on the couch after studying all night, where she had work the following day. Alternately, on nights when she was exhausted, the simplest sounds like Najay using the microwave or a phone ringing would cause her to jump from her rest.
Now, when she felt the bed dip by the middle, and a warm, familiar hand brushed the hair from her sleepy eyes, it felt like a blessing because she knew that it was Theodore — he had come home. Abigail blinked her eyes open and smiled at him.
“Theodore,” she mumbled. Her voice was barely a whisper as her slumber dripped from each syllable. “You’re back?” It was more of a statement than a question as Abigail’s vision cleared, and indeed, Theodore sat next to her. He seemed exhausted yet exhilarated to see her too.
“I am back,” he mumbled, though there was a slight frown on his lips. “I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s late.”
Abigail searched for her phone as she stretched the sleep from her limbs. “What time is it?” As she asked, she checked her phone, and she gasped when she saw that it was two fifty-four a.m.
Had Theodore just come home? She didn’t even know that he was coming back.
Being fully awake, Abigail sat up in the large bed, shuffling over to give Theodore room. Apart from the evident fatigue on his face, Abigail could tell that something was bothering him.
“I’m glad you’re back,” she mumbled as she leaned in to peck his lips. But as she pulled away, Theodore reclaimed her lips and pulled her closer to him by the waist. Abigail didn’t protest. It had been far too long since she got to taste him—to feel him so close to her and hear his voice.
They kissed for what seemed like hours until they finally pulled away, though neither one wanted to. Yet, even after such a kiss, Theodore still seemed troubled, and Abigail didn’t like it.
She analysed his face sceptically before cupping his cheeks. “Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked softly. “Did things not go as planned at the vineyard?”
Theodor seemed puzzled for a while as if he didn’t know what she talked about. Until realisation lit his face, and he said, “Oh right—that. No, everything is great. I managed to sort the issue out. We should be up and running again in two months. There’re just some things that the owner has to do, you know? Well, I’m glad that’s all cleared up.”
Despite the relief, Abigail still gazed at him in confusion. “Then what’s wrong? Are you tired?” Abigail made a small opening in her covers to let him in. “You can sleep with me if you’d like.”
He shook his head. “That’s an awesome idea, and I’d take you up on your offer later. But I really need a hot shower and . . .” He massaged his temples with a groan. It evidently wasn’t one of his best days. “And something has been bugging me. But we’ll talk in the morning. I only came by to check on you before heading to my room. My bags are all in the lounge room as we speak.”
“No,” Abigail protested. “Why can’t you tell me now? I understand that you are jet-lagged and tired, but there’s no way I can fall asleep knowing that something is bugging you.”
Theodore sighed. Was it really worth telling her now? Could he deal with his headache worsening? Because if he talked about this, it surely would.
“Abigail—”
“Theodore. Talk to me.” Abigail tried to study his face, and it scared her that she couldn’t read it as well as she thought she could. It only reminded her that there was still a lot to learn about each other—so much more room for growth.
“I know I didn’t call as much as I promised . . .”
“Awe, Theo.” Abigail shuffled onto his lap and snuggled her head in his neck. “One of your largest vineyards was dying from an infectious disease, and you had to fly across the world to resolve it, and you think I was concerned about your inability to call as often? I knew you must’ve been swamped. And it brought good results too. Your vineyard will be saved.”
His chest rumbled in a chuckle for the first time since he woke her up, and Abigail relished the sound, missing it so much over the past week.
“I’m still sorry. When I noticed that I barely got a chance to touch my phone, I worked extra hard to resolve the issues faster, so I could get back home to you. But then I received a very . . . interesting call.”
Abigail’s stomach dropped as she took her head from his shoulder to meet his eyes. “What type of call?”
Theodore sighed. “Do you remember that restaurant I took you to? Where you almost had a fit over the prices?” he asked, and she stiffened.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. At least not yet. Abigail was supposed to wait until he got home, where she would sit him down and explain the events of that night to him in detail, probably leaving out the part about Nicholas—but in deep detail about the whole proposal thing.
Yet, she nodded with a gulp, encouraging Theodore to go on. “Yes.”
“Well, a part of why I like it so much is that I supply them with wine too—like one of my biggest orders in the city.”
“I can imagine.” It was then that she remembered that she spotted a bottle with Theodore’s logo on a table where a young couple had sat. At the time, she was far too nervous to even notice.
“Yes, so when I got a call that the woman I brought only days prior had revisited with another man . . .”
Shit.
“Theodore, before you get upset, it wasn’t—”
“Abigail, I know.” He chuckled a little, which helped Abigail’s nerves a whole lot. “I haven’t known you long, but I do know you, Abigail. And I know that you were there for a reason.”
“It was my boss.”
“I figured.” He nodded slowly. “But that’s not what caused my headache and hasty departure back home. I didn’t appreciate that they called me to tell me something like that. You are not a child, and I’m not stupid. I don’t need anyone calling me to tell me what my girlfriend is doing when I’m not home.”
Abigail froze.
He said the G-word. He said ‘girlfriend’. Does this mean that—
“But what really concerned me was what they said happened a few minutes after you were seated.” Theodore met her eyes, trying to keep his eyes guarded. “You ran out as if someone was chasing you.”
Abigail’s throat contracted, and suddenly she couldn’t speak, but she didn’t need to.
“So—” He drew in a breath— “I pulled a few strings, and I requested a copy of surveillance.”
Abigail’s shock was yet again unmatched. “W-what?”
“I know, it was overstepping, but I panicked. I thought that if I had called as much as I promised, you would’ve told me and . . .” Theodore sighed as he ran a frustrated hand over his face. “Well, I didn’t get all the footage, of course. I only got those from the lobby area. I called my pilot as soon as I saw who you ran into at the door.”
It was then that Abigail realised that Theodore was mad—no, he was pissed! He simply had a great way of hiding it, or he didn’t want to make her feel like he took it out on her.
But the way his fingers dug into her waist unknowingly and the tiny but noticeable scowl on his face, not to mention the slight tremor in his frame, told Abigail all she needed to know.
She wasn’t hallucinating, and she really had seen Nicholas that night. Nicholas touched her. The only thing that kept her sane from the incident two nights ago was the tiny possibility that it wasn’t even him. When she used to have one, her therapist once told her that it is pretty easy to imagine seeing Nicholas, even when he wasn’t there. It had happened a few times, and it terrified Abigail. Her therapist helped her through that phase.
“Do you . . . Do you think he knew I was at the restaurant?” Abigail asked in an almost silent whisper.
Theodore shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, he was alone. No one goes to that restaurant alone.” He was really doing an excellent job at hiding his anger.
“I don’t think it was either. But how could he have known that I was going to be there?”
“Where were you before?” he asked since he knew from a few calls that she wasn’t here between the hours before and after the incident.
Abigail fiddled with the hem of her shirt, suddenly feeling a bit guilty. “I was at my old apartment with Najay.” And that answered the question. Evidently, Nicholas lingered around the apartment to see if she would return. Najay told Abigail that she suspected that someone was always watching her. Who else could it be?
Theodore sighed, obviously annoyed. “Abigail, I left this place to you for a reason.”
“I know but . . .”
‘But I didn’t want to tell you about the dinner with my boss, and I thought some random man picking me up at the penthouse was inappropriate, so I hid it by getting dressed at my apartment.’
“. . . But I didn’t have enough clothes here.” At least she wasn’t lying. She didn’t have enough clothes, so she had to go home either way.
Still, Theodore didn’t like it. “He breached the restraining order with an ‘accidental’ run-in. It would be easy for his lawyer to sweep it under the rug. It’s a very popular restaurant, and in the eyes of anyone, it could seem coincidental.”
“Just leave it,” Abigail mumbled. She had already thought about all of this. In the second part of her thoughts, where she suspected that perhaps her mind wasn’t playing tricks and she did bump into Nicholas, he’d plead it as accidental. His stupid, cocky lawyer would be all over the case and probably bring up that Abigail was with her boss, which could easily cook up some scheme to question her dignity.
Hence, why she decided to drop it. If Nicholas should attempt this again, then she knew he’d be in trouble. Two ‘accidents’ don’t just happen.
“Abigail, when I said I was going to keep you safe—”
“I know.” She smiled at him. “Just . . . we’ve lost so much time together. Let’s not waste it on him.”
Theodore sighed. “I’ve been so caught up thinking about Nicholas that I didn’t even consider asking: why were you running like you saw a ghost? Did your boss do something?”
Abigail shook her head. “He did, but he didn’t know what he was doing, I guess. He . . . he offered me a full-time position, but then he asked me to . . .”
“To?” Theodore urged.
Abigail gulped. “To marry him.”
Theodore stiffened. Out of everything he suspected, he didn’t expect this. How dare he?
“What did you say to him?” Despite his rage, Theodore’s voice was collected. He wasn’t mad at Abigail for anything. He wished she would’ve told him about the arrangement or even reached out to him after it happened, but he knew Abigail. He knew she had her reasons.
“That’s just it, Theodore. I didn’t say anything. I just ran.”
“Oh.”
“But now, I can tell him that I have a boyfriend?” It sounded much like a question than anything else, and Theodore’s eyes lit up for the first time since he was here.
“I guess you can.” He beamed, but then it fell. “But over email in your resignation letter.”
“Wait, what? I’m not resigning.”
“Why not?”
“Because, I don’t know, it’s my job!”
“You can work with me. I’d love to have your brain on my team,” Theodore pushed. He was still used to getting everything he wanted.
“I don’t want to work for my boyfriend,” Abigail mumbled, after which she giggled sheepishly with a blush. “My boyfriend. I love the way it sounds.”
Theodore couldn’t help but return her smile.
“Me too. So, you’re okay with it?”
“Which part?”
“All of it?” he pushed, gaining himself an eye roll from Abigail.
“I agree with the part where you asked me to be your girlfriend in the—in truth—least romantic way ever. But I liked it.”
Theodore leaned forward to peck her lips swiftly. “So, is that a yes?”
“Yes.” She giggled. It felt weird, yet it felt right.
Her last relationship was with Nicholas, and she hated that the thought of having a boyfriend again scared her. But she really liked Theodore, and he liked her. He cared for her and protected her. What more could she ask for?
Besides, this was evidently premeditated because Theodore blurted out the G-word in the middle of a ramble, which could only mean one thing: he wanted this all along, and there was no way he’d ask her to be his girlfriend if he was still with Cleo.
Though everything was falling apart around her, this moment felt right.
“Tell you what?” Theodore mumbled as he pushed Abigail slowly against the mattress. “Why don’t we finish talking about the other things in the morning. But for now . . .” His sentence hung as he kissed her deeply, initiating a spark they had both missed so badly.












