Page 82 of Caden & Theo

“Yeah, Theo’s back in Gomillion. Teaching now. Can you believe that?”

Teaching, yes. But heading back to our hometown? No. I couldn’t believe that.

He used to talk about leaving constantly. City lights. A school where he could really make a difference. His dream was never small. And the unspoken part—the part we both knew—was that he’d be wherever I was. Wherever my contract took me. That was always the plan.

I rub my eyes and let my hand drop to my leg. I adjust the athletic sleeve over my prosthesis. It’s sleek and dark, the carbon fiber catching the soft light from my desk lamp.

There’s no shame in this anymore. Not in the leg. Not in the way I’ve built my life from the wreckage. I’m proud of what I’ve done. Of who I’ve become.

But vulnerability? That still sticks to me like sweat on skin.

No one back home’s seen me in person since the accident—other than Cameron. They’ve heard, of course. The whole town probably heard. But hearing about a below-the-knee amputation is different from seeing one.

My phone screen lights up with “Dad” just as I put my Mac into Sleep mode. I hesitate only a second before answering. “Hey, Pops,” I say, pushing back in my chair and stretching my leg out. The prosthesis clinks gently against the tile. “What’s up?”

“Hey, son.” His voice is warm and easy, like always. “Just doing my fatherly duty of checking in before you jet off to your past life.”

I chuckle. “Still got today to ignore it all, but thanks for the reminder.”

“You packed yet?”

I glance toward the gym bag by the filing cabinet, half zipped, still empty. “Of course not.”

He sighs dramatically. “You’re your mother’s child.”

I grin and lean forward, rubbing at the back of my neck. “She’d say I’m yours.”

“She’d be right.”

There’s a pause. It’s not awkward, just familiar. Dad’s not big on filling silence unless it needs it.

“You, uh, taking anyone?” he finally asks, casually enough that I know it’s not casual at all. “To the reunion, I mean.”

I snort. “Yeah, I’m bringing the ghost of my emotional stability. Should make for great small talk.”

Dad laughs, then sobers a bit. “Caden….”

“I know, I know.” I rake a hand through my hair. “But no, I’m not taking anyone. You know that. It’s been years.”

“You dated that woman for a while.”

“Almost a year,” I say, sighing. “She said I was emotionally unavailable, if you remember. She wasn’t wrong.”

“And the guys?”

I give a half laugh, bitter around the edges. “You know about all of the disasters of my nonexistent love life.” Well, obviously not the dirty details, but still. A few casual dates. Hookups, mostly. Nothing worth putting on a name tag.

Dad’s quiet again. When he speaks, his voice is lower, gentler. “You ever think that maybe it’s time?”

“For what?” I ask, even though I know exactly what he means.

“To stop living like a shadow.”

The words hit harder than I expect. “I’m not—” I start, then stop. A breath shudders out of me. “I’ve built a good life. A full one.”

“I know,” he says softly. “You’ve worked damn hard for everything you’ve got. But a full life doesn’t mean there’s no space for more.”

His voice is steady and knowing. He doesn’t say Theo’s name, but he doesn’t have to. That shadow he’s talking about? It has a counterpart. And that counterpart has a name. A laugh. A set of eyes I’ve never been able to forget.