I removed my jacket slowly, carefully, as if sudden movement might shatter something. “I saw the chat. I’m so sorry I didn’t warn you, but I genuinely didn’t realise they’d?—”
“I know,” Theo said quickly. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” He folded his hands together in his lap, his fingers interlacing with precision.
And there’s Theo’s control.
My chest was still tight. “Theo.”
Theo finally looked at me, but there was no evidence of anger or accusation. “They’ve seen it. The group. I mean. Not all of it. But enough.”
I swallowed. “I figured. I got a ton of messages.”
“Saying what? I mean, they were really supportive to my face, but?—”
“They didn’t laugh,” I blurted. “If anything, they were protective. A little in awe, maybe.”
Theo huffed out a humourless breath. “Julian told me it was ‘terrifying.’”
I almost smiled at that. I walked over to him and stopped a few feet away, close enough to feel the tension humming between us.
“How are you really?”
Theo hesitated before speaking. “I feel as if I walked into a room and realised everyone already knows something about me that I’m still trying to understand myself. And part of me wants to lock every door I own.”
I swallowed. “And the other part?”
Theo’s mouth curved into a faint smile. “The other part is… proud. Which feels dangerous.”
I exhaled. “It’s not dangerous to be seen.”
Theo’s gaze met mine. “It is when you’ve built your life onnotbeing.”
The words had weight.
I took another step forward, my throat tight.
Theo looked up at me. “I don’t regret it, you know. That’s the strange part. I’m shaken, yes. But I don’t regret letting you seeme like that, paint me. And I don’t regret telling you to submit it.”
I searched his face. “Then what are you afraid of?”
He didn’t answer right away but examined his hands. Finally, he returned his gaze to me. “That now there’s proof. What we have isn’t theoretical anymore. It’s visible.”
I caught my breath. “We were always real.”
“I know. But now otherpeopleknow too.”
I knelt in front of him, looking him in the eye.
“The portrait doesn’t take anything from you. It doesn’t define you. It just says you trusted someone enough to be honest.”
Theo’s eyes shone, but he didn’t look away.
“I’m not angry.” He gestured to the laptop. “I just needed to sit with it before I spoke to you. Before I let my instinct to control take over.”
Relief and admiration swamped me. “Thank you for not shutting me out.”
Theo expelled a breath. “I thought about it.” He gave a rueful smile that I had to return.
“Of course you did.”