Leaning back, I plant my hands on the cool concrete and stare up at the gray sky. My breath plumes in front of me, and I close my eyes, trying to think back to a time when my life was simple. When I wasn’t in love with a man I have no hope of a future with. When I wasn’t in love with children who will never be mine. When my father wasn’t sick and I wasn’t being moved around Europe every two weeks and my mother was alive.
That was so long ago it’s almost impossible to remember, and maybe that’s telling. I can sit here and try to remember what once was, but that won’t change the reality of my life now. It won’t make things easier for me. I can only control what I can control.
With a sigh, I clean off the residual tears from my face and force myself up. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I huddle deeper into my coat and head down the stairs, anxious to get to the bus stop even though I know that will bother Sebastian.
The ride on the bus will be good for me.
Only I never make it to the bus stop. A sleek black Porsche SUV intercepts me, its driver a man I should have expected but, for once, am not happy to see. Something I make very clear when I ask Sebastian, “How long have you been following me?” in a less-than-warm tone as he rolls down the window.
“Get in,” is all he says, and it’s like I’m having déjà vu from the first time he did this.
Without a word, too tired to argue with him, I climb into the car, enjoying the warmth as it hits me, along with the scent of his comforting and familiar cologne. He takes my hand, as he did that night too, and we set off, driving in silence. For a moment, I gaze at my tattoo, reading the words and looking at the sparks of possibility. It feels mocking, and I hate that so much I shove my sleeve down and turn to my window as I do everything I can to hide how I’m feeling and what I’m thinking from him.
It’s futile.
He knows me.
With his eyes straight ahead on the road and his other hand on the wheel, he says, “You don’t have to tell me, and you don’t have to talk about it. But if you ever want to, if you ever just need to talk and have me keep my mouth shut and listen, I’m here. I’m always here. If you want a second, third, and fourth opinion, I’ll get him that. If you want to move him into the palace so you can be with him, I’ll do that too. Hell knows it’s big enough to fit an entire hospital in there.”
I’m too choked up to speak, my lips pressed in a hard line so my sob can’t escape.
He glances quickly at me and returns to the road. “It’s up to you, and if you need time to think about it, that’s fine too. Whatever you need, Bellamy, and I mean that. Whatever you need. You’re not in this alone. I know you feel you are, that you have to tackle this all by yourself, but you’re not alone and you don’t have to do that. Incidentally, this car is yours. I purchased it for you because you should be able to go see your father whenever you need and not have to rely on anyone else or a fucking bus to take you.”
Now I do sob. “I can’t.” Deep breath. “You shouldn’t.” Another sob, and my head falls across the center console ontohis shoulder and I lose it. Absolutely break down. Sebastian pulls the car over on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere between Tourin and the palace. Flipping on the hazard lights, he unbuckles his seat belt and mine, pushing his seat back as far as it will go so he can lift me up and place me on his lap.
My face presses into his chest, and he holds me there as I cry and cry and cry. I cry in all the ways I haven’t allowed myself to cry. I cry in all the ways I need to cry, but I’m not crying alone anymore. And something in that realization, that truth, slows my tears. I don’t have to do this by myself, and the relief I feel is overwhelming.
I sit back on his lap and stare up into his troubled face. He doesn’t like seeing me like this. He’s hurting as much as I’m hurting.
Hard swallow. “He doesn’t know who I am anymore. He hasn’t in any of the last handful of times I’ve gone to visit him. We don’t talk much on the phone anymore either. I’m losing him completely and I can’t lose my father.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “What can I do to help?”
“There is no helping it, but you’re doing everything I need you to do right now.”
His hands run through my hair as he stares into my eyes. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it, you have it. I mean it. All you have to do is ask. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t give to make this easier or better for both of you. Just say the word, and if I can do it, it’s done.”
“Thank you.” Two words have never sounded or felt so inadequate.
His large hands cup my face, and he kisses me. “Don’t thank me. I wish there was more I could do. I’m so sorry, baby. Truly, I am so sorry.”
“This is helping. I’ve never had anyone, Sebastian, and I never…I don’t think I understood what it means to have someone. Totruly be able to rely on someone else and not feel like a burden.”
His thumbs brush my cheeks. “You’re not a burden. I’d do anything for you. Anything.”
I fall against him, my ear to his chest, his chin on top of my head as I listen to his strong, steady heartbeat. His fingers glide down my hair, and for a minute or two, we sit here like this, in the silence and the comfort. But then his heartbeat starts to pick up ever so slightly.
“I want to tell the children about us,” he says, hitting me with a dry chuckle. “Actually, I want to tell the world. It doesn’t feel right to hide this. This isn’t something that’s going to go away. It’s something that will grow.”
I sit back and stare into his blue-gray eyes. Eyes I once saw as cold, the color of a glacier, but they’re anything but.
“I’m afraid of how they’ll react.”
“They love you as I love you. Honestly, I think it will make them happy.”
“And the world?” I parry. “I’m the nanny. How will they feel about you introducing a much younger girlfriend who’s the nanny?”
“There will always be people in this world with an opinion, and that opinion might not always be the one we want. But their opinion will never be the reason I’m not with you. If they have a problem with us, that’s just what it is. Their problem. Not ours.”
