Page 62 of Sebastian.

As the phone rings, I feel both uncertainty building within me, alongside an undeniable anticipation. When his voice finally answers, I find myself relieved, but I waste no time, asking him, “Are you still there at the lake?”

“Hello to you too, Julia.” Seb's response is prompt, his curiosity evident in his tone. “I am. Why?”

Gathering my thoughts, I choose my words carefully. “I've received some news. I think it's best if we meet in person. Can we talk at the lake?”

A moment of pause follows, but I think we both know that there’s no way he’ll deny me––not after waiting so long for this chance. Finally, Seb agrees. “Sure. I'll wait for you.”

With a sense of determination, I end the call. I gather my belongings, and remind myself that it's time to confront the truth, no matter how painful it may be. I can do this. I might not want to, but I can, and will, confront all the things I’ve been avoiding and figure this out.

* * *

As I arrive at the lake, my heart is beating so hard that I’m afraid it’s going to burst out of my chest. The walk to the docks, where he’s waiting for me, isn’t long, but it feels like an eternity. There are at least five times that I consider turning around and going back to work, but I force myself to put one foot in front of the other.

And then there’s the part of me that just wants to run the distance and throw myself into his arms. I ignore that part. It’s a selfish desire that will do neither of us any good, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting it terribly.

Finally, I make it to my destination, listening to the water lap against the shore line. There he stands, Sebastian, my husband, the father of my children, and the source of both my joy and pain. The sight of him stirs a mix of conflicting feelings within me, an oncoming tide that I struggle to contain.

I haven’t seen him since our argument before the wedding, and now all I want is to unleash my anger, to scream at him for his thoughtlessness and reckless actions. The wound he inflicted on our relationship still stings, and the urge to let him know my hurt is strong. But then, there's a different yearning, a longing to close the distance between us, to embrace the man I once loved so deeply, not after a frantic, restless run like I wanted to before, but slowly. A lingering embrace that shows him how much I’ve missed him without words.

My mind snaps from one extreme to the other, torn between the desire to kiss him, to taste his lips again, and the impulse to simply ignore him, to preserve what little dignity remains. And of course, there’s a sharp impulse to just slap him as hard as I can across his bearded face, to make him share even a portion of the pain that he’s made me feel.

I want to shake him, to make him understand the ways that he’s broken me and the consequences of his choices. And yet, the more I look at his handsome, beloved face, the urge to seek solace in his arms is so strong I have to clench my fists to keep control of myself. Maybe if I hold him tight enough, time could reverse its course…but that’s just a fanciful thought. He and I are here, now, and we have to face our demons.

In the end, I choose none of these extremes. Instead, I maintain a cautious distance, a physical representation of the emotional barriers I've built. Our gaze meets, and for a moment, I see a reflection of my own conflicted feelings in his eyes. But words elude me, the weight of our history leaving me both speechless and overwhelmed.

As we stand there, a palpable tension lingers in the air, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved problems, wants, and desires. The lake, once a place of serene memories, is now the backdrop for something much more bleak.

Seb's voice breaks the silence, sounding almost miserable. “I never thought you'd actually come here.”

“Neither did I,” I admit, my own voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. I clench my teeth, annoyed that I’ve given him even a peek into my thoughts. I want to be a wall of stone.

The distance between us feels like an unspoken agreement, a boundary neither of us dares to cross. It's as if the space between our bodies mirrors the emotional chasm that has grown between us over time. I find myself stealing a glance around the surroundings, taking in the familiarity of the place while also acknowledging the undeniable changes that have occurred. “It's a bit different, for sure,” I comment, my words carefully chosen. “But still beautiful.”

Seb's agreement comes readily, his response sweetly nostalgic. “Definitely. Quite beautiful.”

However, I am quick to dispel any softer notions that might arise. “Seb, this isn't a romantic date where we mend our issues or whatever you think this is,” I tell him, my tone firm. “I just came to let you know that Karl intends to throw you under the bus in court for the whole cabaret scandal. He hired a hell of a defense attorney and that’s the strategy they are going for. I just worry our kids will see their father being publicly shamed once more in the news cycle.”

Seb's posture goes rigid. He’s surprised, but not completely shocked. He must have anticipated Karl’s betrayal on the horizon. “Was it Gabi who told you that?” he inquires curiously.

I nod, confirming his suspicion. Despite the distance, despite the pain, there's a shared responsibility that binds us —the welfare of our children. He might not approve of everything that they do, which I understand, but he is their protector just as much as I am.

“What a bastard,” Seb seethes, his anger whipping through him. “He's the one who knew about the cabaret and the girls. I swear I was confiding in him that I didn't want that wedding to happen, and he told me he had a plan. That's all. He pitched me the whole thing, like it was a scheme that he had in his back pocket just waiting to use. He seemed almost giddy to set everything into motion.”

My eyebrows knit together, and I cross my arms, putting my weight on one hip as I examine my husband's face, looking for any hint of lies or deception. “And you agreed to it because you were just so desperate to destroy your son’s now wife’s reputation that you would turn to someone like Karl. Someone who has already been in the media for disgusting things recently, and that’s the person you trusted. Sebastian, how could you let your hatred get the better of you like that, let it taint your judgment to the point you made such idiotic choices?”

He looks horrendously guilty as he continues, and Seb looks so stricken that I almost feel bad for him. “He took care of everything. I told him I wouldn't interfere. I thought…that if I let him figure it all out on his own, there was no way that it would come back to me, you know?”

A bitter laugh escapes my lips. “Well, good luck convincing the court of your innocence.”

The tension between us simmers, our words cutting through the air like a knife. It's a surreal scenario—standing in this familiar park, discussing the impending legal battle, a far cry from the dreams we once shared.

Seb’s frustration boils over, and he explodes with an expletive-laden outburst, looking up at the sky for a moment. “Fuck, I thought hoped he’d just sign the damn settlement. I never thought he'd do all of this!”

His anger is tangible, but I can't let it sway my resolve. I meet his gaze, my tone unwavering. “Do you realize how serious this is, Seb? You can face jail time. From a highly regarded, successful CEO and beloved husband to a disgraceful criminal. Your hate caused you to take this blind leap into the unknown, and look at where it landed you.”

He huffs at my statement. “You think I don’t know how serious this is? I’m well aware, and yes, if you’re wondering, I’m regrettingallof it.” Seb's clenched fists and furrowed brow reveal the internal battle he's grappling with. And as his words escape him, a determination takes root. “I'm going to fix this.”

His resolve, though determined, is overshadowed by the immense mess he's entangled himself in. My heart aches—anger, sadness, and an unexpected pang of concern for the man who was once my partner in life.

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