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I stomp down the hall to one of the spare bedrooms and collapse on the bed. My face is swollen, along with my feet from being in an airplane all day. My stomach rumbles, and my face is oily. I should shower, and eat, but the only strength I have now is barely enough to lift the comforter up and crawl under.
Sebastian’s right to stay away from me, though. He thinks the men in my life were the problem in my relationships. He doesn’t realize the truth—I’m the problem.
27
Sebastian
My alarm wakes me up at five-thirty. Like a robot, I go through my normal routine.
I put on my workout clothes and guzzle a glass of water. I meditate for fifteen minutes on my balcony before heading to my workout room. I spend ten minutes stretching, before forty-five minutes on the bike instead of the treadmill, the only change to my routine due to my fucked up ankle, and thirty minutes lifting weights.
I grab a second glass of water.
I shower.
I get dressed.
I make a cup of coffee and a protein smoothie.
Then I head out the door, using one crutch as I hobble along.
When I park at my office, I take a deep breath. My routine is so ingrained into my life that I didn’t even stop to think about Millie.
Millie—my heart lurches in my chest, begging me to turn the car around and go after her. To find out how she slept last night. To feed her breakfast. To find out everything about her.
To fuck my routine.
Blow off work and just spend every waking second with her.
I want to learn what she does for a living. I want to tell her what I do. I want to ask all the questions I’ve been avoiding.
For a moment, I let the desire grow. I let myself think about that night. Was that really only two nights ago that I was fucking her in a resort suite in Hawaii?
Why didn’t I fuck her every night? Now reality is going to get in the way.
Who am I kidding? Reality already got in the way the second we left for the airport yesterday. Everything that could go wrong, did. Maybe that was for the best, because if I’d sat with her in first-class and talked all the way home, I would have fallen for her. Just a little. Just enough that I wouldn’t be able to push her out my head. Just enough that I would actually turn the car around and head back to her.
Instead, I’ve become an asshole again. I ignored her all night and didn’t even wake her before I left. She’s going to hate me, but it’s for the best.
Just like it’s for the best that I get back into my routine and go inside my office like nothing’s changed. I’m the same man. I’ll go to work and continue on with my normal life. I’m just helping a friend away from her ex—that’s all.
I climb out of my car and grab my crutch—cursing it to hell as I use it to walk inside. I can mostly walk without the need of the crutch the way the cast was done, but the doctor told me to keep off my foot as much as possible would help it heal, so I’m trying to behave.
I hobble on my crutch inside the healing and rehab center where my office is.
“Oh my god, Sebastian, what happened?” Shelly, the receptionist, asks as I walk inside.
“Just a small accident while I was in Hawaii. I should be able to get the cast off in a few weeks.”
“That must have ruined your honeymoon.”
I pause. It should have completely ruined it, but after that night, everything changed.
“How is Mrs. King doing? Are you going to have a reception or a big wedding to celebrate?”
Jesus, what’s with all the questions? I run my hand through my hair, the back of my neck perspiring a little as I think about how to answer her question.
“No, we liked the spontaneousness of the wedding. I don’t think we will have a big reception or anything.”
