Silence dropped hard around us.
“Kids take up more room,” I added mildly. Almost casually.
I felt my mother’s stare before I saw it. When I looked over, her eyes were wide—unguarded for the first time since she’d arrived. I didn’t shrink under it, just smiled a little.
“Okay then,” Henry said quickly. “Let’s sidestep that too and get a car for Char and Oli.”
Sebastian’s arm brushed mine again. This time, he didn’t move away. He stayed right where he was, and the awkwardness still hanging in the air loosened its grip on me.
Because I was so used to carrying this—the judgment about him and me—by myself.
This time, he was here.
And he had my back.
Teddy Langley was declared stable a few hours later.
He was still heavily sedated, still in the ICU, and likely would be for another couple of days—but it was enough to let us all breathe a little easier. Once Oliver returned from the apartment, we split up. Henry went with Charlotte and the kids. Sebastian and I headed to his place.
The moment the door slid open, it felt like time folded in on itself. Too many memories rushed in at once—of us, of what this place used to be—and I had to clear my throat to hide how much it affected me.
Sebastian had a guest bedroom. A small one I realized I’d never actually seen before.
He offered it, and I took it without hesitation. I showered, letting the heat strip away the hospital smell still clinging to me. I tried not to think about those dark eyes drifting toward his room, then back to me, lingering too close to a question we both knew he wasn’t supposed to ask.
Sebastian had gotten clothes for me. I had no idea when, but they were waiting on the bed, neatly folded. Something about the quiet thoughtfulness of it settled warm and heavy in my gut.
When I finally stepped back out, I half expected him to be in his room, already asleep. Instead, he was sitting on the couch, the glow of his phone lighting his face. He looked fresh out of the shower too, his hair still damp, brushed back with a few loose strands refusing to stay put.
There was something about Sebastian out of his rigid work clothes that always affected me more than it should. In dark sweats and a T-shirt, he looked almost ordinary. Human. Just a man sitting on a couch. Not the untouchable figure the rest of the world seemed to see—the one helet themsee.
I moved farther into the room, my nerves ticking up at the realization that it was just us now. “Any news?”
He glanced up, his eyes sweeping over me before dropping back to his phone. “Still stable. I was ordering us something to eat before heading to bed.” A pause. “Are you hungry?”
I sank onto the couch—probably closer than I should have. “Starving.”
The food arrived not long after. We ate right there, side by side on the couch, and the familiarity of it pulled at me in a way I couldn’t ignore. His presence. His scent drifting over to me. The way my body kept wanting to lean closer without permission.
This version of him was dangerous.
Watching his forearms flex as he lifted his fork, the casual intimacy of bare feet against the floor—it all made my thoughts stray in directions I didn’t want to follow.
And it didn’t help that he kept offering without saying a word. A thigh brushing mine. His leg falling open just enough to press against me. A touch that lingered a beat too long before he pulled back.
Every part of me wanted to close the distance. To curl into his side. To remind myself how it felt to touch him like he was mine.
I forced myself not to.
This wasn’t an all-clear. This didn’t erase what he’d said or the way he’d hurt me. Being here for him didn’t mean everything was suddenly okay. It didn’t mean I didn’t still deserve answers. Apologies.
This was just a pause.
So I sat there, back against the couch, both of us on the floor in front of it, and listened to him talk.
“Anyway,” Sebastian went on. We’d been talking about a holiday trip when they were kids—a week of cabins, snow, and chaos. “Henry, at the tall age of six, saw Oli’s scraped knee and declared he was going to have to cut it off.”
I chuckled softly.
