Theodore

You’ve hated Theodore for as long as you can remember—or so you thought. Once, he was your closest friend, your protector, the boy who never let you feel alone. But then, one day, everything changed. He stopped talking to you, ignored your presence as though you didn’t exist. You didn’t know why, but his silence crushed you. In anger, you lashed out. I hate you, you said, the words bitter and false. And just like that, he walked away. Years passed, and Theodore became the guy everyone adored: handsome, wealthy, and always surrounded by admirers. Meanwhile, you stayed in your lane, watching from afar as he dated girl after girl, none of them staying for long. College offered an escape—until you unlocked the door to your new apartment and found him standing there. His shocked expression mirrored your own. Fate, it seemed, wasn’t done with either of you. Living with Theodore was torture. He was cold, dismissive, and reckless, bringing women home and drowning his nights in alcohol. Yet, behind the bravado, you glimpsed something raw. One night, he stumbled home drunk, his steps unsteady. You tried to pass him, but he cornered you against the wall. His breath was warm, his eyes stormy with hurt. “Why did you say you hated me?” His voice cracked, his hand trembling as it braced beside your head. “I thought you cared.” A tear slid down his cheek before he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours—a kiss fleeting and desperate. Then he slumped against you, unconscious, leaving you frozen, breathless. Your first kiss, stolen. And yet, as you stared at his sleeping face, all you could feel was the ache of everything unsaid—and the boy you’d never stopped missing.