Once he's finally made it out of the truck, Theo gingerly puts weight on his left foot. He winces, but then notices me looking at him. The expression is wiped from his face, and with a very pronounced limp, he moves toward the restaurant. It's actually painful to watch.

"What's wrong with your foot?" I ask him when he reaches me.

"Ah, just tweaked something at work," he waves it off without looking at my face. He pushes the door to Heidi's open, causing a loud squeak, and holds it open while he gestures for me to walk ahead of him.

As hungry as I am, I don't walk through the door. "Shouldn't you get that checked out?" I ask instead.

Theo looks at the door hinges and shrugs his shoulders. "It's not my diner. I'm sure they'll fix it when they find the time."

"Your foot, Theo," I clarify in an annoyed voice.

"It's fine, Emilia," he insists, with a bit of annoyance in his own voice now too. He gestures for me to go inside again, and then attempts to make light of things once more, "It's just a little sore. I must have been rolling in the sawdust a little too enthusiastically."

"Oh, right. Just a little sore. Of course. That's why you can't walk! Why did you take me here? You should be going to the ER or something."

"Because you're hungry, and I want lasagna. Please just go inside."

I cross my arms over my chest, and Theo shuffles uncomfortably. That's when I notice that he's leaning into the door, trying to take the weight off of his foot.

I narrow my eyes at him and he sighs.

"Alright, it does hurt," he finally admits, "but there's nothing the ER can do for me. You know what you could do for me though? Walk inside and sit down, so that I can sit down. That'd be really great."

Well fuck, I guess he has a point. I'm not doing him any good by standing here and arguing with him. And so what if he doesn't want to get his foot looked at? I'm not his fucking mother.

"Fine." I walk past him into the diner, and Theo lets out a deep breath before hobbling after me to a nearby booth.

We sit down across from each other and Theo tosses me a menu from the center of the table. "The lasagna's fantastic, but so is everything else if you want to take a look."

"No, lasagna sounds great. After hearing you talk it up, I think I need to try it. I just hope you don't have bad taste."

Theo smiles and looks past the booth seat I'm sitting in, to the counter along the back wall. He raises a hand in a relaxed wave, presumably to get the attention of a waitress. "I won't disappoint you. Promise," he tells me when he looks back at me.

"I'm not going to hold my breath," I scoff, "I've yet to meet a man who hasn't."

Theo gives me a blank stare, then looks away while he starts humming the Mr. Pitiful song that he played in the truck on the way over here.

Without thinking, I hoof him under the table, right in his shin.

Theo's upper body wrenches forward as he recoils his legs back. His large hands grip the edge of the table, and the colour drains from his face.

Oh fuck.

"Shit! I'm sorry!" I quickly apologize.

"It's fine," he grits out through clenched teeth.

"You look like you're going to puke, or pass out. Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital?" There's no way my kick could have hurt him that badly, unless he was already in a great amount of pain.

"I'm sure."

He looks like he's trying to smile at me, maybe to reassure me or something, but it kind of just makes him look mentally deranged.

"Stop doing that with your face. It looks like you're going to shit yourself."

A surprised laugh bursts out of him, but it abruptly disappears when he looks past me.

A shrill voice behind me calls out, "Theo Thomas Morrison!"

"Hey Ruthie," Theo greets, pasting on a charming smile. "How's my favourite girl?"

"Don't you go Hey Ruthie-ing me, boy!" A tiny woman with white hair snarls at Theo once she reaches our table. It turns out his favourite "girl" is a loud, elderly woman. "I saw you tottering your way in here. And just where is your cane, huh?"

His cane?

"Megan! You let him bring you out like this, and you didn't insist he use his cane?!"

Megan?

I glance up at the woman beside me, wondering who she's yelling at now, but it turns out that she's talking to me.

"Oh, you're not Megan." She seems a little surprised and looks at Theo with a raised eyebrow.

"This is Emilia. Emilia, Ruthie." Theo makes the introductions for us and then looks at Ruthie with an almost pleading expression.

What is going on here? Who's Megan? Why is this old lady angry at Theo for not using a cane?

"Oh. Well... Okay..." She studies Theo before she turns back to me with a smile, "What can I get you, Emilia? I know Theo's getting the lasagna."

"I'm taking his word and getting the lasgna too," I answer. My eyes drift over to Theo. He's still looking up at Ruthie with a stern expression, even though the waitress's eyes are on me.

"And what can I get you to drink?" she asks next.

My attention is brought back to her. "Do you have MGD?"

Ruthie looks at Theo again. I assume it's to get his drink order, but Theo just gives a miniscule shake of his head. She sighs, like she's completely disappointed about something, nods at me, and then putters back to the main counter.

I wait for Theo to explain things, but it becomes apparent rather quickly that he's not going to start the conversation. He just folds his hands on the table and twiddles his thumbs, looking around the diner and smiling politely at anyone who looks back at him.

Well if he's not going to start the conversation, I guess I'll have to. "Your cane, eh?"

"Hmm?" Theo replies, acting completely oblivious. He picks up a menu and starts flipping through it, "What's your favourite kind of pie? Mine's strawberry rhubarb, but Cal and April always want apple. Emy's wise, like me, she also likes..." He drifts off when he finally looks up at me and sees the way my eyes are narrowed at him.

"My leg acts up sometimes. From an old injury. It's fine though."

"And then you use a cane?" I'm trying to imagine this mountain man limping around with a cane, but my mind can't quite picture it. It just doesn't seem right.

"Sometimes," he answers with a light shrug. He's trying to play it off as no big deal, but if it really wasn't a big deal, he wouldn't have tried so hard to avoid the conversation.

I should probably leave it alone, but I can't help myself from prying further. After all, Theo knows plenty about my life from Cal's big mouth. It's only fair that I get some information about him.

"What happened?"

"I just went a little overboard at work. Nothing an ice bath and some rest won't fix."

"I mean, what happened to leave you using a cane before you even turn sixty?"

Theo acts offended in an attempt to avoid my question. "Sixty? How old do you think I am?"

Ruthie returns with our drinks before Theo can get a full sense of my annoyance. She sets a glass of milk in front of Theo, and then pops the cap off of my beer and places it on the table in front of me. "Your lasagna will be out in a few minutes. Do you need anything else?"

Theo looks to me and I shake my head. He smiles up at Ruthie. "We're all set. Thanks, sweetheart."

"Oh Theo, you charmer." She pinches his cheek and then gives it a soft pat. "Don't think your charming face is going to get you out of trouble. I already told Heidi you weren't using your cane, and I'm sure she'll let April know before she even gets your lasagna ready. And don't think I won't tell your mother all about this the next time I get her on the phone." She glances at me when she says the word "all".

Theo's charming smile turns into a scowl, and Ruthie laughs at him and pats his cheek again before she walks away from our booth, chuckling to herself the entire way.

"She seems nice," I comment dryly. I lift my beer to my lips and take a long drink.

"Oh, yeah, she's the best," Theo replies, without a hint of sarcasm. He sips his milk and gazes out the window.

"So... ?"

He moves his eyes back to me and pretends to not know what I'm getting at. "Yes?"

You have got to be kidding me. "What happened to your leg, Theo?" I ask in exasperation.

"Oh, right, that..." He takes another sip of his milk—Why the hell is he drinking milk?—and then his face turns all serious.

I have a feeling it's going to be quite the story. I find myself scooting to the edge of my seat to lean closer to him.

Theo takes a deep breath and then copies my stance and leans over the table, like he's about to tell me a dark secret. He glances to the side, as if checking that no one else is listening, and then moves his dark eyes back to mine and murmurs, "Do you remember..." He quickly glances around again.

I lean even closer to him, waiting with bated breath, only for him to finish his question with, "... that emu fight I told you about?"

It takes a second for his words to register, that's how off guard he caught me, and then my hand darts out to push his face away.

Theo laughs loudly as he leans back in the booth again.

"Just tell me!" I demand, slapping a hand against the table.

Theo grins like an idiot, much too happy with himself for getting me going. "Why do you want to know so bad?"

Good question.

"I don't know, I'm just curious. You know all kinds of stuff about me, so it's only fair."

Theo shrugs. "You haven't told me anything about yourself."

"But Cal has!"

He shrugs again. "Sounds like an argument you should be having with Cal then."

There's an idea.

"Okay." I copy his easy going shrug. "While I'm at it, I'll ask him about what happened to your leg. I bet he knows the real story."

Theo's relaxed smile falters. "Well played..." he grumbles. "You really want to know what happened that badly?"

I nod my head eagerly.

Theo sighs and folds his hands on top of the table. He looks down at them, then unfolds them, and lays them palm down on the smooth surface. There's a serious expression on his face again. This time, I think it's real.

"It got banged up in a car accident." His voice is quieter than usual, and I get the sense that there's more to the story.

Instead of pushing him again, I wait. It seems to be the right call, because he continues, "I guess more than banged up. It was broken in a couple of places, shattered in another. They put me back together pretty good, considering..." He lifts a hand from the table and brushes the side of his index finger along the scar that runs through his eyebrow, then drops his hand to the table again.

As if my hand has a mind of its own, it reaches over and lightly rests on top of Theo's. I stroke my thumb along his knuckles to encourage him, and his eyes dart down and lazer in on the movement.

What the fuck am I doing?

I jerk my hand away again, grasp my beer bottle, and lift it to my lips. The contrast of the cool glass against my fingers is jarring after touching Theo's warm skin, but the cold liquid moving down my throat is welcomed.

I set the bottle on the table again, keeping my fingers curled around it, and blurt out, "Was the accident your fault?"

Perhaps I should have worded that with a little more tact, but I am desperately trying to fill the awkward silence, and attempting to cover up my embarrassment over touching him. I don't have time to choose my words carefully.

Theo wraps his hands around the bottom of his milk glass, but doesn't take a drink. Maybe he needs to cool off too.

He eyes the beer in my hand, glances at my face, and then looks out the window. "Yes and no. I had the right of way. The light was green... but I wasn't paying attention, and I was driving faster than I should have. Careless mistake. Completely avoidable. I'm paying for it now."

"That sucks." What else can I really say?

"Yup." He takes a deep breath and looks back at me. "An emu fight would have been a much better story. You should have let me go with that one."

Even though the words coming out of his mouth are his way of trying to make light of things again, his voice still sounds quiet. His lips curl up in a playful smirk, but his eyes have a distant look to them.

My damn hand travels across the table again, but this time I only allow my finger tips to lightly brush against his. "I'm sorry, Theo." I don't know what I'm apologizing for, but the words feel like they need to be said.

This time it's Theo who rests his hand over top of mine. He gives my fingers a light squeeze. "I'm sorry too. But there's no going back now. The only way to keep living, is to keep moving forward, ya know?"

Why does it feel like we're no longer just talking about his car accident?

Author's Note: Waitress's or waitress'?

I know usually when showing possession, you wouldn't add the S in a word that already ends with S, but "waitress' eyes" didn't sound right to me. 🤷

Also, I hope you love Theo as much as I do. He's no Cal Jones, but that miiiight be a good thing... ?

(Not gonna lie, I'm still in love with Cal. He's my lil fucked up baby and no matter how much he angers me/everyone, he's always gonna have my heart. 🙈

... But Theo does too 😘)