“Oli was horrified,” Sebastian said, a faint smile on his lips. “But resigned. Luckily, I got there before he went for the kitchen knives.”
“Jesus,” I huffed.
Sebastian took one last bite and placed the container on the coffee table. “It’s always been like that. Henry taking charge while being completely feral. Oliver worrying. And me…” He stopped, something in his eyes going a little sad.
I wiped my hands on a napkin. “You fixing.”
He turned to look at me, then nodded once. “Yeah. Something like that.”
The silence that settled between us wasn’t heavy or oppressive. It felt necessary. I watched him gather his thoughts,the way his eyes drifted, the way his hand clenched briefly over his knee. He wanted to say more.
With a quiet exhale, he finally did. “It was always expected of me,” he said. “It’s easy to know what role to play when you’re handed the part.”
My elbow was propped on my knee, my chin resting in my palm, all of my attention on him. “What do you mean?” The question was a gentle push, an invitation to stay instead of retreat into himself.
His lips twisted, and he shrugged, suddenly looking younger than I’d ever seen him.
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispered, his gaze drifting somewhere far away.
“About what?”
“The day she died.”
I’d known it was coming, but hearing him say it still felt like a rock landing in my stomach. The pain in his expression softened something inside me in a way I couldn’t fight. This time, I didn’t stop myself. My free hand went to his arm, smoothing over the skin before my fingers slipped under the hem of his sleeve.
His hand closed around my wrist, holding me there. “We don’t have to?—”
“I want to listen,” I said quickly. His eyes lifted to mine. “If you want to tell me about it… I want to listen.”
He looked away again. A quiet moment stretched between us, filled only by his breathing and the distant hum of New York traffic beyond the windows.
“It was sudden,” he said. “Completely out of nowhere. There hadn’t been anything wrong with her. That morning, we’d had breakfast together. She was joking with us, Henry sitting on her lap like he always did. He was always glued to her.”
My eyes burned at the image. They’d been so little.
“When I got home from school, the house was packed,” he went on. “And I saw her—not all of her, but enough. On the floor. Before my father pushed me out.” His jaw tightened. “He told me she was gone. Then I was upstairs with Oli and Henny, and he told me to keep them there. I think they were taking her out, and I just—” His grip on my wrist tightened. “I broke. I started crying. Everything hit me all at once, and I couldn’t stop it.”
My chest ached so much for them. For him. “Ash…”
He shook his head. “It scared them. Henny jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom, banging on the door, calling for her, like she was supposed to be there. That made Oliver cry harder, and that’s when it really hit me.” His voice dropped. “Nobody was going to comfort them. Those cries were only going to meet silence. So it had to be me.”
A tear slipped free before I could stop it, and I wiped it away quickly.
His eyes stayed on the floor, red-rimmed but dry. “It felt like I was being torn apart,” he said. “But I couldn’t let myself feel it. When I picked Henry up, I kept looking at his hands. His tiny hands. And it hurt more—but it also made everything else go quiet.” He swallowed. “I focused on that. Then on Oliver’s hands once I had him tucked under my arm. And somehow… breathing got easier.”
Because he made it about them.
Fuck—Sebastian.
“It’s all I can think about now. Every time I let my guard down, every time I start to fall asleep, I’m back in that bedroom. That same feeling—being ripped apart and terrified I won’t be able to keep them safe.”
My hand slid free of his grip and went to the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry.”
His eyes lifted to mine, lips curved just slightly—not enough to chase away the sadness—as he reached up to wipe my cheek.“It’s okay, darling. A bit of unprocessed trauma is practically a staple at my age.”
A joke. Of course.
“That was a long time ago, Ash,” I said. “You don’t have to keep holding everything together anymore.”
