And then, to my surprise, he goes into his social media app and does just that.
Who is this man? Gone is the bitter, misanthropic recluse. This Sebastian is lighthearted and smiles often, and radiates an entirely new, relaxed energy. Something I need to work on myself, but unfortunately I’m still holding a lot of anger and resentment toward my parents for conspiring to auction me off, even if I understand their motivation on a base level. It was their misguided attempt to keep me safe and secure my future. They just couldn’t see that I was perfectly capable of doing those things for myself.
Sebastian links our fingers together as we walk through town. Some of the shop owners wave at us as we pass by, now familiar with our almost-daily evening rounds. I’m wearing a ruffled white sundress and bright floral flip-flops. He’s in khaki shorts and a striped polo. It’s a nice change from my grandma nightgown and his work suits. Even our outfits have become more relaxed and fun.
“What’s bothering you today?” Sebastian asks as we get in line at a food stand. “You seem distracted. And tense.”
I shrug. “I guess I’m just…struggling with the fact that my parents sold me out. Literally, obviously. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get over it. Maybe I can’t.”
He pulls me against him and gives me a squeeze. “I get it. You have every right to feel like that.”
“The thing is, I don’t want to be angry at them forever,” I admit. “They’re still my parents at the end of the day. Dad was always my biggest cheerleader, and Mom and I just started getting close again.”
He pauses to order for us, then pays and hands me the container of cracked conch and fries.
“Your cock, my lady.”
I laugh and slap him on the arm playfully. We find a bench that overlooks the beach and settle in to share our snack and watch the waves. Sebastian twists the top off a bottle of cola and hands it to me. I take a long gulp, relishing every drop of the sweet, cold, carbonated refreshment.
“You don’t have to force yourself to forgive them if you’re not ready,” he says, picking up the thread of our earlier exchange. “But if you decide you want to leave the door open, it wouldn’t hurt to reach out and start a conversation.”
“What about you?” I ask in between bites of fried conch. “You never talk about your parents.”
“We’re not close,” he says with a shrug. “There’s no animosity or anything, it’s just…different lives, I guess. They were older when they had me, and now they’re retired. They travel a lot.”
It makes me sad to realize that Sebastian is so disconnected from his family. No wonder he’s been so lonely and adrift since he lost Rachel. And no wonder his coworkers are like brothers to him.
“I think deep down,” I muse, “my parents wanted to lock me in a box to make sure they’d never have to go through the type of pain they went through with my sister again. They thought marrying me off to a man with money and resources would give me a safe and comfortable life where nothing could touch me. But that’s not the life I want. All I ever wanted to do was prove to them that I was good enough, for the team, for them. They never even gave me the chance.”
Sebastian steals a fry from the container and holds it out so I can take a bite. “Grieving does awful things to people sometimes. It’s a brutal process that resists logic,” he says gently.
“Sophie would have hated all this grieving bullshit,” I say. “She’d want us to be celebrating her and remembering all the best times we had together. In fact, I think the best way to honor her memory is to do something that would have delighted her…and horrified our parents.”
I give him a sly grin and his brows lift.
“Before you ask—it’s a no. I am not taking you cliff diving. Or skydiving. Or anything else reckless and endangering.”
“I’m not talking about cliff diving. I’m thinking something with much higher stakes. Something more…permanent.”
He frowns. “You want to get a tattoo?”
I laugh. “Not quite. This island is a little bit like Vegas, right? I mean, with the no waiting period for marriage licenses and ordained ministers scattered throughout the island just waiting to officiate some tourist’s dream wedding at the drop of a hat. Or maybe two people who wanted to elope and have a very private, very intimate ceremony?”
We lock eyes. My heart is pounding, and my stomach is full of butterflies. Did I just propose to Sebastian?
“If we were to do that,” he says, “then you would need one of these.”
With that, he reaches into his pocket and drops to one knee in front of me. Stunned, I cover my mouth in shock as he pulls out a velvet box and opens it, presenting me with a huge, sparkling, oval-cut diamond solitaire set on a rose gold band.
“Did you seriously just have that waiting in your pocket?” I blurt, still hardly believing this.
“Honestly? I’ve been carrying it around ever since I kidnapped you from your apartment. It never felt like the right time to bust it out until now, though.” He laughs and takes one ofmy hands in his. “Blair Tisdale, I want you to be mine more than anything in the world. But only if you want it, too. Not out of obligation, not because there are debts to settle or scores to even out. I want us to have an incredible life together, because we’re made for each other, and I’ve never been so happy as I have been since I met you. Will you forgive me for my stupid mistakes and be my wife?”
He’s barely done speaking before I’m leaping off the bench and wrapping my arms around his neck, sending us both tumbling onto the sand. We’re both laughing as I scramble to get a kiss, whispering yes, yes, yes against his lips. Somehow, the ring ends up on my finger and it’s the most beautiful thing, besides Sebastian, that I’ve ever seen.
An hour later, we’re standing at the edges of the palm grove where we first met, exchanging our vows. Daisy was more than excited to find us a minister in a hurry, and she’s here too, standing in as our witness, a bottle of champagne tucked under her arm. My phone is in her other hand, with Brooke dabbing her happy tears as she watches the wedding on FaceTime. Before I know it, I’m saying I do to the man of my dreams after being engaged for less than an afternoon. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We don’t have wedding bands yet, so we exchange our letter bracelets as a sign of our love and commitment. It’s cheesy and perfect. A few minutes later, Sebastian and I are sipping champagne under the palms, fingers interlaced, watching the waves crash.
