I studied him, searching his face for any hint of regret or resentment. Maybe I was looking for a sign that I wasn’t the only one wrestling with doubts. The way his eyes flickered—softening for just a second—told me he understood more than he let on. For a moment, the tension between us faded, replaced by a quiet understanding that maybe neither of us truly belonged here, but we stayed anyway, clinging to the only connections we had.
“She cried after you left,” I said, watching as he stiffened.
Looking down at his hands, he whispered, “What happened to her?”
“What always happens in this life. Steele found out and damn near beat her to death. After that, she didn’t cry anymore.”
I could see a storm brewing behind his eyes, a mix of anguish and rage that he tried to hide but couldn’t quite suppress. His jaw clenched, and for a long moment, he said nothing. Then, with a bitter edge to his voice, he finally spoke, “No one deserves that. Especially not her. I should have stayed with her.” The weight of guilt in his words settled over us both, reminding me how wounds from the past never truly heal—they just scabbed over, waiting to bleed again.
“There was nothing you could do. Nothing she could do. If you stayed, you’d be dead too.”
At that, he looked at me, his eyes wide. “She’s dead?”
“Yeah,” I whispered, my heart hurting for him, for what he left behind. “She ran away shortly after you left. No one knew where she had gone. But Steele never stopped looking for her, and eventually he found her. When he did, he killed her.”
A lone tear rolled down Sebastian’s face as anguish and fury warred deep within his eyes.
For a long while, neither of us spoke. The silence was heavy, carrying the weight of everything we’d lost and all the things we’d never be able to fix. I could see him struggling to hold himself together, his fingers digging into the edge of the table. Finally, he took a shaky breath. “He took everything from me. From her. And I wasn’t there to stop him.”
“No one could stop him, Sebastian. You and I know that better than everyone else. In the end, he got exactly what he deserved. He’s dead now and can’t hurt anyone else. Just be thankful that she saved the baby before Steele found out.”
“Baby?” Sebastian stiffened. “What baby?”
I looked at the man I’d known before my life went to shit and muttered, “Your daughter.”
His breath faltered, and he stared at me as if hoping I might take it back.
I tilted my head as I looked at the man and whispered, “She never told you?”
Sebastian slowly shook his head as his lips parted, but no sound came out—he was too stunned, too overwhelmed by my revelation. At last, his trembling hand pressed to his chest as if to steady his racing heart. “I have a daughter?” he whispered, his voice barely audible. The shock in his expression, matched only by the glimmer of hope and terror mingling in his eyes.
I nodded. “Yes.”
His gaze drifted away for a moment, as if he were sifting through memories for any sign he might have missed. A shaky, disbelieving laugh escaped him, but it was tinged with sorrow. “She lied to me.”
Reaching for his hand, I said, “She knew what would happen if Steele found out. What he would do to her, to the baby, to you. She protected her. Gave her away. She was never the same after that. Joanna was many things, Sebastian, but she protected your baby the only way she knew how. Don’t take that away from her.”
For a moment, Sebastian was silent, trying to process the truth.
Then, quietly, he asked, “Where is she now?”
His question hung in the air, uncertain and full of longing. I hesitated, unsure if my answer carried its own pain. “I don’t know,” I replied gently. “But if I know Joanna, she will never be found. That was all Joanna ever wanted—for her daughter to be free from the shadows we couldn’t escape ourselves.”
Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, as Sebastian absorbed the full magnitude of everything I’d said. His fingers curled tightly, knuckles whitening, and for a moment I thought he might shatter from the pressure of hope and loss warring inside him. The weight of years—of secrets, regrets, and missedchances—settled on his shoulders, bowing his usually proud frame.
When he finally spoke, his voice was rough with emotion. “If she’s out there, I have to try. I need to find her.” His words trembled with quiet determination. I could see the resolve building in his eyes—a flicker of purpose ignited by the desperate need to find his daughter wherever she may be.
Before I could respond, Grace appeared, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to me.
“What’s going on?” she asked, her eyes on the door to church.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “King came downstairs and walked up and hit Jackson without a word. Then they went in for a bit before everyone came out, except for Jackson and King. I think they might be trying to kill each other in there.”
“They won’t kill each other. Just beat the shit out of each other,” Sebastian assured me.
“Well, knowing King, they’ll be at that for a while,” Grace stated, turning to me. “How about a coffee? We can go to Trudy’s; she has the best coffee and pastries.” She lowered her voice. “Just don’t tell Maureen I said that.”
Sebastian chuckled, and Grace smacked his arm.
