Page 68 of Bastian

Sweet.

I also feel the heat of the tyrant’s gaze on me, but I do my best to ignore it and him. It has proven to be difficult because when he’s not looking, I sneak a few glances at him without being obvious.

He’s sitting back, drinking his wine with a smile on his face. A content smile. He looks like a king on his throne. I’ve forgotten how it hurt to look at him for too long. He shines so brightly even when the bastard is not even trying. The light he exuberates shines from within, but there’s darkness too that lingers behind those carefully laid layers he works so hard to maintain. To fool everyone else around him.

It fooled me once, too.

I also look down at his strong left hand, the one that is suspiciously close to mine, tapping on the table. For a moment there, I swear I see black ink on his finger, but that cannot be. I once asked him why he didn’t have any tattoos on him, and he responded by saying that it wasn’t his thing plus he added how tattoos made people look vulgar.

I hate that I think the same way.

What a pair of assholes we both are.

But back to the ink, it can’t be, but when I try to look closer, his hand moves from my view making my own eyes rise to meet his blue ones.

Eyes that are shining brightly.

Giddy.

Yeah, that’s it.

Smiling as if he holds all the secrets to my heart. The same heart he doesn’t have access to. Sebastian speaks up, but his eyes never leave mine. “Ellaiza.”

“Yes, daddy?”

“Do you want to give your mom the gift you made her?”

“Oh, yes.” I turn to look at an excited Ella bounce in her seat before stepping off the chair, bending, and pulling something from under the table. With my heart in my sleeves, I watch her skip my way before dropping a white medium-sized box on top of my lap. “Happy arrival day, mommy.”

“Arrival?” I ignore the three men in the room and stare at my girl.

Ella beams. “Yes! Arrival day! Dad says we should celebrate that you’ve come home.”

Thud.

Thud.

My ears ring, and my heart beat slows down in tune with the buzzing feeling in my chest. I don’t look Sebastian’s way, because, for the first time since I’ve been back in his world, I’m afraid. Imagine that. Me–afraid of him, but it’s the truth, and I’m no liar, nor am I delusional as much as I would love to save myself the sweet pain of this moment.

“Open it, mommy. Come on!” I feel her tiny hands shake my left arm before Benjamin picks her up and drops her down on his lap next to me.

Without waiting for another second, I open the box to find a silver photo book with Ellaiza’s baby picture on the front. Realizing what this is, I take a deep breath and pray to whoever is listening that not a single tear falls from my eyes in front of these men. I don’t mind Benjamin and Ella witnessing me being vulnerable but the other two? I’d rather take a pipe to the head before letting them see me in such a weak state.

Ella’s tiny hands help me flip the sparkly pages with photos and messages from not only her but her father, detailing every single stage of her life and moment captured.

When I think I’ll be fine, that I won’t shed a tear, I get to the pages when she was a toddler.

There are countless photos of us together.

Some that I took and some that I didn’t even know existed. Sebastian or Benjamin must’ve taken them without me realizing it.

“You’re so pretty, mommy,” Ella whispers in awe, making my heart beat stronger.

“Thank you, my girl.” I poke her nose like I used to do when she was a baby, and she gives me a soft smile, melting the ice around my heart more than she already has.

I continue flipping through the photo book, looking at all the moments that I missed. From holidays, to birthdays and God, even recitals.

How much she’s grown, and it’s all for me to see here. How much I missed. I hate this. I hate that I wasn’t there and I hate the tyrant next to me, too, for taking this away from me. I also hate him for confusing me with everything he’s done that contradicts everything he said that day.

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