Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 520

Theodore emerged from behind the cabin, looking a bit awkward under everyone's gaze.

They had mostly finished eating. "I'll go get some more juice," Emma's aunt announced.

Grandma stood up as well. "And I'll grab some more warm bread."

They were all just making excuses. Larson hadn't wanted to leave, but a sharp look from his mother sent him on his way.

"Mom," Larson complained once they were inside, "I know that Whitman guy helped this time, but forgiving him is out of the question. He can't get off that easy. You didn't see how badly he hurt Emmie in England, but Grandma and I did. I absolutely will not approve of them getting back together."

"Oh, you," his mother chided. "Does a private chat automatically mean they're getting back together? Emmie seems better, yes, but that's because she's tired and distracted. It's hard to say if the thorn in her heart has really been removed. Let's see what this boy has to say to her. The most important thing is to help her find true closure."

Larson glanced outside. At least Theodore was sitting across the table from Emma, maintaining a respectable distance.

Theodore sat down, a mixture of embarrassment and trepidation in his eyes. "It's… me."

"I'm not blind," Emma said coolly. "What's this? A welcoming committee? Should I roll out the red carpet?"

He cleared his throat. "No, I was just afraid you wouldn't want to see me."

"You showed up anyway, didn't you?" Emma placed her yogurt bottle on the table.

"Do you want another?" Theodore asked.

Emma shook her head.

He simply watched her, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"What are you smiling at?" She leaned back in the lounge chair, gazing up at the moon.

His voice held a hint of a smile as well. "It's good. The fact that you can still yell at me proves you're doing okay."

Emma shot him a sideways glance. It was bizarre. After the divorce, he'd become so flippant. When she had worshipped him, treated him like her entire world, he'd trampled on her heart. Now, he was completely indecipherable.

"Theodore," she said, "you were the one blowing on the leaf every night, weren't you?"

"Well…" He hesitated, but seeing no point in denying it, he lowered his head. "Yeah."

He waited for her to yell, but she remained silent for a long time.

He laughed. "Psychological age is about mindset, not your actual age. This past year, I feel like I've aged ten years. No, twenty, maybe even thirty. I feel like a man in his twilight years."

Emma disliked the somber mood. As she started to get up, he spoke again. "Emma, I recently brought Bart's diary with me. His mother gave me permission to read it. I'm planning to follow in his footsteps, visit the places he went."

She sat back down. "And the point of that is…?"

"I don't know. Maybe there's no point at all," he said with a smile. "Sometimes, when you reach your twilight years, you stop searching for reasons and just follow your gut."

Emma frowned. "What's with all this 'twilight years' talk? You sound like you're on your last legs!"

He looked at the moon and smiled again. "Emma, I've never seen stars and a moon more beautiful than that night."

Her heart skipped a beat, but she covered it with a cold laugh. "You must be imagining things. How can the stars be bright when the moon is full?"

His gaze seemed to travel somewhere far away. "They were, in my heart."

Emma was speechless.

"Emma, do you want to come with me?" he asked suddenly. "You haven't started school yet. Why not join me? We can see where that guy Bart went."