CHAPTER 75: HOW DID I PULL YOU BACK?

The air between them hung heavy with his words.

’I think... I like you.’

It echoed louder than thunder in Daisy’s ears, stealing the breath from her lungs. Her lips parted, just about to speak but the sky cracked first.

A loud rumble rolled above them, and in an instant, the rain came down harder than before, catching them completely unprepared.

Daisy flinched as fat droplets hit her shoulders, soaking fast through her clothes. But before she could react, Theo had already moved.

He shrugged off his suit jacket and swung it over her head in one fluid motion. Then, without a word, he reached for her hand, gripping it tightly, like he’d done it a thousand times before and pulled her back toward the car.

"Come on, you’ll catch a cold," he muttered, eyes fixed ahead.

They half-ran the few steps back, his hand never letting go of hers, his suit shielding her from most of the storm. By the time they tumbled into the car again, wet and breathless, the moment had shifted but not disappeared.

Raindrops drummed against the windows. Her heart was still racing, but not from the cold.

"Hmm... about your words earlier," Daisy started, her voice soft and uncertain. "Can I—"

She suddenly sneezed. A small, low sound, like a kitten.

Theo, who rarely smiled as Theo, bit his lip, holding back a chuckle.

"You can give me the reply after this," he said, adjusting the heater. "For now, let’s head back home."

=====

Daisy stepped out of the bathroom, her damp hair clinging to her neck and shoulders, still dripping slightly. She was wearing one of Theo’s clean oversized sweatshirts, the sleeves swallowing her hands.

Why? Because the cotton pajamas she wore last night were the only decent ones in the closet, the rest were seductive nightgowns that gave her nightmares just looking at them.

Theo had already called Marla to bring some proper clothes as soon as possible, but with the unpredictable weather and jammed roads, the delivery was running late.

Before she could take another step from the bathroom, Theo appeared from around the corner with a small towel in hand. He didn’t say anything at first, just closed the distance, lifted the towel, and began patting her hair gently.

"Come," he murmured, voice low, eyes not meeting hers.

She followed him wordlessly as he led her back into the dressing room. He knelt down briefly, opening the same drawer as yesterday.

Daisy watched, still half-shivering, as he took out the same dryer she had used the night before, carefully uncoiling the cord.

He plugged it in, tested the heat on his own palm, then turned to her again. "Sit," he said softly, tapping the edge of the ottoman.

She sat down without a word, the soft hum of the dryer filling the quiet space a moment later.

Theo stood behind her, one hand gently lifting strands of her hair, the other guiding the warm air through it. His movements were careful, almost too careful, like he was afraid of hurting her.

The silence wasn’t heavy, but it wasn’t light either. She could feel him thinking. She just didn’t know what.

It felt too quiet.

"This is weird," she mumbled, half to herself.

"What is?" His voice was barely audible over the whir of the dryer.

"You. This." She tilted her head slightly. "Drying my hair..."

Theo’s hand paused for the briefest moment, just long enough for her to notice before he resumed, a little more hesitant this time.

"You... didn’t like it?" he asked, his voice quieter now, edged with something unfamiliar.

She glanced down at her hands buried in the sleeves of his sweatshirt and took a breath. "No... that’s not it."

"Then what is it?"

She hesitated, unsure how to put it into words. "I just... don’t know who you are when you’re like this."

He paused again, longer this time. Then he switched off the dryer, set it aside, and slowly lifted his gaze to the mirror in front of them.

In the reflection, she saw his eyes, shadowed with something deeper.

Daisy turned around, dragging her feet in a way that almost looked like a pouty child, and faced him. "So... Do you plan to be yourself now?"

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Then he crouched down slightly to meet her gaze.

"Actually... I’ve never been anyone else. This has always been me."

Daisy suddenly raised her hand, like a student asking to speak in class. "Can I ask something?"

Theo, barely holding back a laugh, bit his lip before closing his eyes briefly, "Hmm... go ahead."

"About your condition... Have you ever gone to a therapist? Or maybe... a psychologist?"

She had been meaning to ask this for quite some time. Now that the question was out, it lingered between them like a breath held too long.

Theo paused, his gaze dropping slightly.

"Hmm... I did. For a year," he admitted quietly. "But the therapy didn’t really work. Maybe... because it was me. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to help myself back then. My parents kept on trying to send me to a new one, but yup, I refused."

Daisy slowly raised her hand again, but Theo gently reached out and pulled it down.

"Just ask," he murmured. "Because if you do that again... I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold myself back."

She blinked, caught off guard by the meaning behind his words, and then gasped a little.

"Ah... okay." Adjusting her posture like she was bracing herself, she cleared her throat. "Hmm... when you said I’m your cure—"

"You heard that?" His eyes widened slightly.

"Obviously. You said it right next to my ear, Mr. Kingsley." Her brows drew together in mild accusation.

"Ah... right." He let out a short, sheepish laugh, a hand brushing the back of his neck. "Go on."

"So... if I’m your cure," she said slowly, "how did I pull you back... those two times?"