The Wedding Party (The Wedding Date, #3)(77)

And if it was true, why wasn’t he acting like it this morning? Why hadn’t he acted like it at any other time?

Okay, fine, last night when they’d gotten home from the hospital, he’d seemed really happy to have her there, that was true. But that was probably because he was just high from being alive, and had nothing to do with her.

Maybe what he’d said last night had nothing to do with her at all.

“Okay.” He looked up from the soup. “What if you just looked up the articles in the Chronicle and the L.A. Times, and then counted the paragraphs that are about the protestors and me getting injured versus the number of paragraphs that are about the campaign, and then I’ ll . . .”

“Oh my God, will you please shut the fuck up about the rally?” She couldn’t handle this anymore. “Why are you obsessing about this? You just got off the phone with Alexa, and she told you it would be fine, so can we please talk about something, anything else?”

His face fell, and he turned away from her.

“Sure. No problem.”

Oh Lord, now he was mad at her. She felt bad for yelling at him, but there was seriously only so much she could take. She couldn’t sit here and listen to him stress for one more second about the damn rally, like it was the most important thing in the world.

“At least the wedding is in a month. You won’t have to deal with me bossing you around for that much longer,” she said, in an attempt to lighten the mood. He didn’t reply. Okay, fine.

They sat there for a while, her on her phone, scrolling through Instagram and not seeing anything, him eating crackers, until she finally couldn’t handle the silence anymore.

“If you lie down and promise not to look at the TV, I’ll turn something on so we have some entertainment, at least.”

She picked up the remote and moved to the far end of the couch.

He shrugged and lay down. Oh great, was he still mad at her for not wanting to endlessly discuss the rally? Whatever, he’d get over it.

She found her favorite season of The Great British Baking Show and hit play. It was the next best thing to Say Yes to the Dress to give her a cathartic cry. When the theme song came on, she looked over at Theo. He didn’t look at her, but she thought she saw him smile.

A few hours later, Ben walked in. He looked at the empty mug next to Theo, who had been asleep on and off ever since she’d turned on the TV.

“I can’t believe he actually ate soup.”

Theo sat up, and Maddie turned off the TV.

“Hey, man. The soup was disgusting, but thanks for the crackers.”

Ben plopped down on the easy chair and looked at his brother, then her.

“You both look terrible. Maddie, did you get any sleep last night?”

She brushed that away.

“A little. I’m fine.”

Ben shook his head.

“I know what ‘fine’ means. I speak woman. Go home and take a shower and get some rest. Eat something that isn’t soup. You can’t take care of him if you’re this exhausted.”

Maddie looked at Ben, and then over at Theo. She didn’t want to leave, but Ben was right. She’d never be able to fall asleep here, not when she was vibrating with anxiety like this. She had no idea if she’d be able to fall asleep at home, either, but she should try. Otherwise she’d be a basket case tonight.

“Okay, but what if he—”

“Starts slurring or acting like he can’t understand me? I know, I’ll call 911. I did pay attention yesterday. Go home. You need a break.”

She stood up.

“Don’t let him watch TV. Or touch his phone.”

She wanted to kiss Theo good-bye, but she hesitated to do it in front of his brother. Sure, Ben probably knew what was going on, but as long as no one said it out loud, she could pretend no one but she and Theo knew.

“Okay. Thanks, Ben.”

Theo closed his eyes again before she walked out the door.

Theo woke up on the couch again. He didn’t even remember falling asleep. Again. He had a feeling this was going to keep happening.

He turned over and sat up. What was baseball doing on his TV? Why would Maddie have turned on baseball? He turned to ask her that question and saw Ben sitting in Maddie’s chair.

“What are you doing here?” he asked his brother. “Where’s Maddie?”

Ben tore his eyes off the TV.

“Oh, you’re awake. Welcome back to the world of the living. You’ve been out cold for a while. Maddie left hours ago, remember? We sent her home to get some rest?”

He had a vague memory of that. He was both glad and resentful Maddie had left. Glad because he was getting sick of her telling him what to do all day. Don’t look at your phone, Theo! Stare at the wall so I can watch TV, Theo! Eat this gross soup, Theo! Stop talking about the biggest professional crisis you’ve ever had, Theo!

And he was resentful because he somehow didn’t know how to function without her there.

“Oh, right.” He stood up and grabbed on to the arm of the couch as a wave of dizziness hit him. “I’ll be back.”

He made his way to the bathroom. He hated this. All of this: the protestors who had shown up at the rally; the specific protestor who had hit him over the head; the entire concept of concussions; the phone calls he hadn’t made that would have doubled the number of police officers at the rally; that he’d failed at something he’d worked so hard at; the way Maddie had acted this morning; that Maddie had left.