Her words sink in like salt in a wound. “But I can’t wait forever.”
“No,” she agrees easily. “You shouldn’t. But youlovehim. So, give him a chance. If it’s real, if he wants this, he’ll show up for you.”
I’m nodding because she’s right. About everything. “If he decides to try, he’s gonna have to prove it.”
“Damn right he will.” Zoe raises her mug in a mock toast. “Because you, Wild One? You’re worth the fucking effort.”
35
Sebastian
It Takes A Woman - Chris Stapleton
The house is too damn quiet.
Teddy’s laughter still fills it, but it sounds thinner now, like the echo of something that used to be louder. Warmer. Even Diesel’s been acting off—grumpy, restless, pacing by the front door every morning like he’s waiting for someone who isn’t coming back. It’s funny how loud the silence can be when someone’s missing. Mum’s called twice this morning already. Sandra’s texted twice.
Sandra:We’re doing dinner Sunday.
Sandra:Don’t you dare bail again.
I ignore both. I can’t face them. It’s been a week since the party. A week since she left that night without looking back. Since the house started feeling less like home and more like aholding cell. I’ve been on annual leave, which means my days are now spent building Lego sets and watching Disney reruns with Teddy. Which is not the same without Olivia’s renditions of the songs.
He’s happy enough, but even his laughter hurts, because it reminds me how easily Olivia used to fit into our lives. How natural it felt, like she’d always been here.
When I finally walk into the kitchen, my eyes catch on the gift I never opened. It’s been sitting on the counter since that night, the brown paper crinkled from where Teddy’s been poking at it. I tear it open before I can talk myself out of it. Inside is a bronze antique-looking photo frame. And the photo that’s framed inside?
Me and Teddy. At the Wattle Creek Fair. Teddy’s on my shoulders, pouting at something, both of us mid-laugh. There’s a sticky note tucked behind the frame.
You deserve to be in photos, too.
Something in my chest twists. And just when I think that’s enough to wreck me for the day, I spot another package underneath, wrapped clean and tightly. I tear that open, yet this time it’s a book. A limited-edition print of the crime novel I’d been reading.Signed by the author.I stare at it for a moment too long. No oneevergets me gifts like this.
Hell, no one has ever thought to.
Another sticky note tucked inside the front cover reads:
Thought you might like this one.
Consider it something that’s just for you.
Christ.I drag a hand over my jaw, tension coiled in my neck like wire. That’s when I see them, those goddamn envelopes, still sitting on the edge of the bench from when she dropped them off. Unopened. Untouched. Like a silent reminder I’ve been trying to ignore all week.
The first one’s from September. I trace the date again.September. That’s when it all started—the rain, the farm, the first kiss. That’s when she stopped taking money from me.
And I didn’t even notice.
It was never about the money.
Olivia’s words echo back, and fuck, they hurt more now than they did then. I sink down onto a stool, the cheques limp in my hands. Guilt settles over me, and I allow it to.I deserve it.How long had she been doing this? Just showing up, day after day, helping like it meant nothing. Like it didn’t cost her. Pretending it was fine when it wasn’t. When she was pouring more of herself into this place than I ever asked her to.
And how did I repay her?
I treated her like I didn’t see her. Like what she gave wasn’t real. God, I’m such a fucking idiot. I drop my head into my hands, eyes burning, throat thick. Everything feels tight. My chest, my fists, my fucking heart. I should’ve known. Should’ve opened these earlier. Should’ve said something. Anything.
My phone buzzes against the counter.
Mum:Sebastian Daniels, you can’t keep hiding in that house like a hermit. I need to see my grandson and MY son.
