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"There's nothing more you can do for her ankles?" Sebastian asked. To anyone else, he might have sounded completely normal, but to Charlie, his words seemed to be strained through too-tight vocal cords. She'd kissed his throat, touched almost every centimeter of skin, felt his hard muscles against her, and she knew, even if no one else could even sense it, that his sense of powerlessness hurt him core-deep. Yet she could do nothing for him.
Dr. Bengali turned to him. "Mrs. Ballard's arthritis is severely degenerative. Essentially she has virtually no ankle bones left. Her surgeon has done extensive reconstruction, but I'm still surprised and pleased with how well she walks." He turned back to her mother, then reached for her hand and squeezed it. "You're a remarkable woman. For most people at your stage, walking a mile every day is impossible."
Her mother punched the air like a teenager. "No pain, no gain."
"I agree that Francine is one of the most amazing people I've had the privilege of calling my friend," Sebastian said. "But is there something we can do about her pain level, at the very least?"
"We could send her to a pain clinic, but the narcotics are highly addictive, and over time she would build up a tolerance."
Charlie tried to keep her heart intact as she folded her mother's cotton nightgowns into the case. They'd heard it all before. Yet it still hurt to hear once again that there was nothing more they could do. She glanced at Sebastian, whose face was like granite, and that made the ache so much worse.
"I don't want to start any more meds." Her mother was calm yet firm. "Evie down the hall takes that stuff and though it doesn't do much for her pain anymore, she can't go without it. It's terrible to watch when she tries to wean herself off it. That's not for me."
Dr. Bengali stood. "As I said, ma'am, you are a remarkable woman. I thank you for the opportunity to examine you and wish I had better news."
"Thank you for coming to see me, Dr. Bengali." Charlie's mother held out her crippled hands, and he leaned over to take them in his long, firm, nimble surgeon's fingers. "You're a very nice young man."
He smiled, his teeth gleaming white in the sun falling through the blinds. "You're too kind."
After Charlie shook his hand and thanked him, Sebastian stepped forward. Despite how carefully Sebastian was working to hide his frustration, Charlie felt his pain as much as her mother's, his emotion palpable, his anger undulating tangibly around him. And beneath all of it lay a helplessness that Charlie would give the world to erase, just as she would have given everything she had to take away her mother's pain.
Still, Sebastian took Dr. Bengali's hand in his with a firm shake. "Thank you for answering our call. If you learn of any new techniques, medications, or methods, please let us know."
"Certainly."
The regal man left, and Sebastian turned to the window, studying her mother's spectacular view of the parking lot. "I'm sorry," he said, his throat still constricted. "We'll find someone else." He avoided their eyes, as if he was ashamed they'd see the failure in his gaze. "We'll keep looking, I swear it."
Charlie wanted to enfold him in her arms, draw his ache into her own body, kiss away all his hurt. But her mother held out both hands. "Come here, Sebastian."
He hunkered down in front of her chair, taking her damaged fingers in his. "I'll make this right, Francine."
"I want you to keep searching for me, because you never know, something might pop up. Some big new breakthrough. But I'm not disappointed, and neither should you be."
Charlie's heart broke watching them, this big, beautiful man down on one knee with an old woman who'd been forgotten by everyone except her daughter. And now Sebastian.
"I need to help you," he said, his voice raw with the emotion he'd been trying so hard to hide.
"You are helping me." She put her hand on his cheek. "You take time out of your busy life to visit me. And Charlie told me how you'll help us with Magnolia Gardens if we need it. I can't thank you enough for that. Best of all, you make my daughter happy. How can I ask for anything more?"
"Oh, Francine, I love visiting you." He glanced at Charlie, his eyes brimming with lingering sorrow and what looked like love. A love that had no bounds. "And your daughter makes me very happy too."
Charlie had to go to him then, bending down to press a soft kiss to his lips. As she drew away, he slid his free hand into her hair, held her close, kissing her back for a long, breathless moment.
"Now that," her mother said on a delighted laugh, "is a kiss!" Sebastian's answering laugh wrapped around Charlie's heart as Francine added, "What do you say we pack up my old kit bag and blow this popsicle stand?"
The darkness hadn't faded completely and tension still vibrated through him, but at least he was smiling when he said, "We'll make like bananas and peel." He offered both hands to Francine and slowly drew her to her feet before bending low to plan
t a kiss on her forehead.
Charlie had started falling for him that very first day, but watching his tender handling of her mother made her love Sebastian with her whole heart and soul. Even if he never touched her again, never took her to heaven in his arms, never sold another piece of art for her, she would keep on loving him.
Her love had nothing to do with his wealth or the success he'd created for himself--and everything to do with the man he was on the inside. The son who'd turned himself inside out for his parents, again and again, even against all hope. The man who steadied an old lady as she grabbed the handles of her walker. The friend who would do anything for the people he loved. The lover who made her feel more pleasure--and more cherished--than she'd ever believed possible.
She'd never been in control of her feelings for him. She'd fallen in love with him the moment he'd stepped into her dusty shop wearing his perfect suit and called her junkyard a garden. Though she couldn't be certain that he wouldn't one day want to change her, she would risk everything for him. Even the parts of herself she knew would never fit in with the fancy society where Sebastian ruled as naturally as breathing.
Her mother wheeled her walker into the hallway ahead of them, saying good-bye to all the friends she'd made at Shady Lane. Charlie put her hand on Sebastian's arm to halt him for a moment before he lifted the suitcases. "I love you."
He went so still she wasn't sure he was even breathing. Then he exhaled. "I...you..."
