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I stand but keep my voice soft. If this is going to be our last conversation, I don’t want to yell. “You were my best friend when I didn’t have anyone else, and I’m thankful, really, for what we once had. But we’re not teenagers anymore, and we aren’t the same people we used to be.” I correct myself. “I’m not the same. I don’t want to drink all the time and talk shit about other people and lose my weekends to hangovers. I love you, I do, but I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”
I’m tired. The yawn surprises us both, and Morgan rolls her eyes. “Sorry this is so boring to you. I guess if you’re tired, you should just go.”
Heart pumping at top speed, I walk out. I wait until I’m at the end of the street to stop and drop onto a bench so I can play it all back. What’s left of my breath leaves me in a rush.
Morgan and I bonded as awkward kids, and I truly thought we’d grow old together, gossiping over lunch and reminiscing over the good ol’ days.
Once, she was an inspiration to me, but now I barely recognize her.
33
SEBASTIAN
I slept terribly.All night, memories surfaced and merged into nightmares. Even if it was only my imagination, seeing fear and pain in Bee’s eyes chills me to the fucking bone.
It’s another reason I have to get this over with. I can’t go another day with the specter of this man hanging over me.
The drive is quiet and tense. Bee spends the time turned toward me in the passenger seat, her hand resting on my knee. It’s comforting, and if my heart didn’t currently feel like it was trying to flee south for the winter, I’d have the words to thank her. Instead, I cover her hand with my own and hope it conveys just how fucking grateful I am for her.
The spot he picked is within a gardening center, with chairs and tables scattered between sculptures and pot plants. The open air is a relief. The weight of this conversation has been slowly suffocating me since I messaged him,but I’m also pissed that he’s using whatever leverage he can to get on my good side.
I should appreciate that he’s trying.
I wish I could.
It’s easier than I expect to spot him, even though he hardly looks like the same man. He’s broadened, with a shock of white hair and rounded edges that surprise me. I knew he couldn’t look the same after twenty years, but the difference feels like a missed step off a ladder, an ice-cold jolt of reality who is currently sipping a coffee and looking about as terrifying as my elementary school art teacher.
Fuck. I’m really doing this.
The brush of Bee’s hand against mine is reassuring, grounding me. Reminding me of what matters. The reason I’m here.
“Hello, Sebastian.”
“Dad.”
The word is bitter on my tongue, its meaning rotted with memory.
His gaze shifts to Bee, and on instinct, I put myself between them, shielding her. An old habit.
“Hi,” she says, stepping around me. “I’m Bee.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Bee. Ellie has told me good things.”
“Oh, thank you.”
An ache is already settling in my jaw. The casual use of Mom’s name and the easy charm he’s exuding put me on edge.
I want to take Bee and get out of here. I don’t want her to know a single second of the man who haunts my childhood. I don’t want to risk her seeing similarities betweenus. It’s hard enough trying to convince myself that she’ll stay after the book is finished, that the warning Aiden’s given me won’t come true.
The silence is loaded as we sit. It’s almost a shame to do this here, between a birdbath and a juvenile cherry blossom. It’s too pretty a setting.
“Congratulations on the house.”
“Thanks.”
There might be a lot I want to say, but I don’t know how to talk to him.
“Sebastian has done an amazing job with it,” Bee says.
