He had walked with her dozens of times before. He had spent years in her company, cataloguing every detail, memorising every expression. But everything felt different now. Heightened. As though the kiss had stripped away some protective layer and left him raw and exposed.
"You're very quiet," Harriet observed, as they paused near the ornamental lake.
"I'm enjoying the scenery."
"The scenery you've seen a hundred times before?"
"It looks different today."
"Does it? I hadn't noticed any changes."
You're the change, Sebastian thought but didn't say.You're looking at me differently, and it's making everything else look different too.
"Perhaps I'm simply in a contemplative mood," he said instead.
"You? Contemplative?" Harriet raised an eyebrow. "I thought you preferred to fill every silence with sardonic commentary."
"I'm capable of depth, you know. I contain multitudes."
"You contain an excessive amount of self-regard, certainly."
"That too."
She laughed, that warm, genuine laugh that he had worked so hard to earn. Sebastian felt something expand in his chest, threatening to crack his ribs.
I love you, he thought.I love you so much it terrifies me. I have loved you for seven years, and I will love you for seventy more, and I will never, ever deserve you.
He didn't say any of this. Instead, he picked up a stone and skipped it across the lake's surface.
“A gallant show…” Harriet muttered.
"Would you like me to teach you?"
"I know how to skip stones."
"Do you? I've never seen you attempt it."
"Because it's a pointless exercise. The stone sinks eventually regardless."
"That's rather pessimistic."
"It's realistic. All things end. The stone simply ends faster."
Sebastian turned to look at her, struck by the wistfulness in her voice. "Is that what you believe? That all things end, so there's no point in enjoying them while they last?"
Harriet was quiet for a moment, her gaze fixed on the lake. "I used to believe that. After Richard died, I believed it for a long time."
"And now?"
"Now..." She hesitated, and Sebastian saw her walls waver. "Now I'm trying to believe something different. That some things might last. That it might be worth hoping."
Sebastian's heart clenched. "Harriet…"
"Don't." She held up a hand. “It is not a matter of great importance. I'm simply... making an observation."
"An observation about hope."
"An observation about stones." She picked one up and threw it at the lake. It skipped twice before sinking. "There. I can skip stones. Are you satisfied?"
