Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 339

He’d always thought of her as his wife, his family—someone who would never leave. No matter when he came home, she’d always be there, waiting for him.

Why would she ever want to leave him?

She loved him so much. She’d had a crush on him since high school, and she’d risked everything—even her own life—for him. How could she possibly want a divorce? How could she just walk away from their home?

Then he discovered she’d applied for two visas.

Two.

You only needed one visa for a European tour. Why would she get two?

Was Larson planning to take her away?

Had she arranged with Larson, long ago, to move overseas?

He’d even said, earlier that day, that since they both lived in Cresthaven, they were bound to run into each other again someday.

But if she moved abroad for good, where could he possibly "run into" her?

Suddenly, the sound of a key turning in the lock startled him.

“Emma!” He jumped to his feet and hurried toward the living room.

It was pure reflex—after all, who else would have the key to come home but Emma?

But when the door opened, it was Cecilia and Jared who stepped inside.

“You guys?” Theodore stood there in his socks, not even having had time to put on shoes.

Right, Cici knew the house code too…

“Who’d you think it was?” Jared asked, glancing behind Theodore as if expecting someone else. “You’re here by yourself, right?”

“Yeah.” Theodore slumped onto the couch, dispirited. Who else could it be? Emma was never coming home again.

“We tried calling you, but you didn’t answer. Cici’s been worried sick,” Jared said, sitting across from him.

Theodore froze, his head drooping in defeat.

“What’s wrong? You already got divorced?” Jared guessed.

Theodore nodded. “Yeah.”

Jared let out a cold laugh. “Wow, didn’t waste any time, did you? Not even a day, and it’s already over.”

“Theo…” Cecilia said softly, pulling a clear plastic box from her bag. Inside was a neatly folded collection of paper cranes. “Here. Don’t be sad. I made these for you. May happiness and smooth roads always be ahead of you.”

Theodore stared at the paper cranes, his heart aching all the more.

“Thank you,” he croaked, his voice rough.

“What’s the matter with you?” Jared chided. “Cici stayed up several nights folding those for you. Even after getting hurt last night, she was still up finishing them. She didn’t care what people would say about her swollen face—she just wanted to bring these to you as soon as they were done. And you sit here acting like it’s the end of the world.”

Theodore barely reacted, only repeating, “Thank you.”