“Turning around the magazine the first time had been exciting. But during her final months, I took a lot of time off, and that was when things started to go downhill at work. This time, trying to save it felt pointless. I didn’t care, and I got complacent. That’s why we’re here now.”
It was the most honest he’d been about the magazine’s situation since I’d met him. Sebastian and I weren’t so different, becoming other people for jobs we wanted but also needed to support our loved ones. “Have you ever wanted to do anything other than journalism?”
“In college, I thought I’d go into sports broadcasting,” he said. “That’s what I was working toward, but I would’ve taken any internship I got. Modern Man was my first offer.”
“Have you thought of leaving?”
“The mag? Not seriously, no. And with my reputation, I don’t know who’d want me.”
“We’re working on that,” I reminded him. “And even if we weren’t, there’s life outside of this city. There are lots of publications that would kill to bring on a New York City big leaguer.”
“I can barely picture life outside Manhattan,” he said. “Much less the tristate area.”
“I hear Boston has sports.”
The corner of his mouth crooked. “I couldn’t. Reminds me too much of what I’ve lost.”
“But your sister’s there.”
“Don’t remind me. She gets on my case about it. Wants us to clean out and sell Mom’s house.”
“If you don’t want to go back there, why does it matter?”
He shrugged a little. “It’s not my home anymore, but it was hers.”
“Was she sick long?”
“She kept it from us until she couldn’t anymore.” Remembering his earlier comments about how he hadn’t bared his soul to many people, I flipped my hand on his chest and laced our fingers together. “I got her on the most comprehensive healthcare I could once we found out,” he said, “but by that time, it was too late.”
“That was when you made her the promise?”
“It was one of our last conversations. Find someone who was good to me and to others. I wanted money because I’d never had it growing up, but looking back . . . it would’ve meant more to her if I was a good man over a wealthy one.”
“You are good, Sebastian.”
“Not always. I went to Harvard on a need-based scholarship, so to blend in with my wealthy classmates, I let things become important that weren’t. I thought that was the only way to get ahead, and maybe it was, but for what? My big salary couldn’t cure cancer.”
“From what you’ve told me, it sounds like what mattered to her was you and your sister—and that she raised you right. Am I wrong?”
He glanced at our hands and ran his thumb over my knuckles. “You’re never wrong, it seems,” he said with a small smile. “I suppose I’m the one holding onto her possessions for dear life.”
“When’s the last time you were home?”
“In Boston? Her funeral,” he said. “She passed in her own bed. I haven’t returned to the house since her body was removed.”
My heart ached for him. I squeezed his hand. “No wonder you don’t want to go back. And even though it makes me sad, I understand why those are the memories that’ve stuck with you.”
“Most of the time, it’s the first mental image I get of her. In bed, taking her last breath. It’s weird . . .”
I glanced up at him. “What is?”
“When home is no longer home.” He sifted the ends of my hair through his fingers. “My sister worries I’ll forget my roots, but I can’t help feeling they’ve been ripped out of the ground.”
My grandad’s health had been declining for some time, but I hadn’t quite come to terms with the possibility of his death. Losing my parents, though? And with them, my access to our family history, and any sense of home? Tears sprang to my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“You ever lost anyone?”
“A grandmother, but I was young.” I snuggled closer. “My grandad’s in his eighties, so I try to spend as much time with him as I can.”
“Ah,” he said. “That explains the upstate gin rummy. You like taking care of others, don’t you?”
I looked up at him. I wasn’t sure I’d ever recognized that in myself. I’d seen it as a weakness with Neal, and a privilege with Grandad. And of course, the same was true for Bruno. “I’ve got some bad memories in Boston too, you know. Bruno and I have been to the vet there several times, and while he might’ve been stable or doing well, his prognosis never changed.” I paused, thinking back to all the tears I had shed in their waiting room. “Still, it made me more appreciative that the sun was shining. Of how friendly the people were. Home is still there, Sebastian. It’s in the good memories. Maybe you can try to replace the bad ones with them.”
“I probably could,” he said. “But I don’t know if I’m actually ready to let her go.”
My voice broke a little as I said, “You’d only be letting it go.”
“Semantics, Keller.” He pulled my arm until I was forced to roll onto his chest. “Know what else?”
“What?” I whispered.
“I’m not letting you go.”
I wanted it to be true, and for this time, with him, to be different. I wanted to be strong for him and for myself. I glanced at the stubble filling in his jaw. “Is that why you’re here now?” I asked softly. “To fulfill your promise to your mom?”
He angled his head to catch my eye. “That, and many other reasons, Georgina. The fact that my mother would’ve fallen in love with you would be reason enough for me to . . . to do the same. I can tell you why I’m not going anywhere, or I can show you if you’ll let me.”
I inhaled a breath to keep from tearing up. I nodded. “I’ll let you.”
“Good, because you’re stuck with me now.”
The thought made my heart skip with hope. I didn’t have to ask myself if I wanted to be stuck. Being physically intertwined felt overdue for us, like snapping in the final piece of our complex, jumbo puzzle. It made me wonder when exactly I’d gone from falling for Sebastian to fallen.
I was too far gone to wonder if I even needed a safety net.
22
Georgina
I woke up for the same reason I did every morning—Bruno, the living alarm clock. Only today, it wasn’t his big body shaking the bed, his cold nose in my face, or his monster-sized paw on my head. He scratched at the door, sniffing under it almost as loudly as he whined.
I’d fallen asleep in the crook of Sebastian’s arm, but during the night, I must’ve gravitated back to my side of the bed. I turned over just as Sebastian came out of bathroom in nothing but a towel.
“Morning,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his wet, chocolate-colored hair.
Given our history, it should’ve been awkward to wake up with him. Maybe it would be once I stopped staring at his broad, sculpted, glistening shoulders. I sat up against the headboard, pulling the sheet up under my arms. “I’m sorry if Bruno woke you.”
“If you’re going to apologize for anything, it should be for stealing the sheets.”
“Did I?” I asked innocently. It was a complaint I’d heard before.
“Or your bathroom. Between the baskets of half-used makeup on the counter, and the army of nearly empty beauty products in the shower, I could barely turn around,” he said, then grabbed a handful of his tousled hair, “much less do anything about this.”
I tossed a throw pillow at him. “I don’t believe in being wasteful.”
His words had always gotten under my skin easily, something I’d mistaken for rivalry. Now, I saw it for what it was—compatibility. I didn’t worry Sebastian would try to twist my words or use them against me as I had in the past.
He flashed me a devastating smile, dropped his towel, and picked up his underwear from the floor. “Remember what happened when you threw a pillow at me last night?”