Page 75 of Sebastian.

“My friends canceled,” she tells me, as if I needed some justification for her presence. “Which is why I'm here.”

“You are more than welcome to have dinner with us, love,” I tell her gently, before going around the table to kiss my three younger children on the cheek and then, despite her protests, Hannah as well. “Just like old times, eh?”

Living with my mother has been nice in some ways, but it's things like this that I've missed terribly. I barely pay attention to what food is served, watching my family instead and drinking in the normal day to day things that I've missed. It's clear that Hannah and Sebastian have gotten closer with him being the only parent home, and she tells him about her day without even being prompted. It's not until halfway through the meal that I realize she hasn't even brought her phone to the dinner table, when usually, it doesn't ever leave her hand.

Dinner ends, and the younger three are ushered off while Hannah tells us goodnight before taking herself back to her rooms. Just like that, Sebastian and I are alone again, full of a delicious dinner and more relaxed around each other than we've been in ages.

He leaves his seat, walks around the table to stand in front of me and extending his hand for me to take it, he whispers softly, “Join me on the terrace. I have a bottle of ice wine from a client chilling. Share it with me.”

I shouldn't...not with how emotionally charged everything has been, but the offer sounds too delicious to resist it. “Alright, but just one glass.” I take his hand, and rise from my seat, before following him outside.

The terrace is lovely, surrounded by lush plants and flowers, and the breeze is warm. We sit together on one of the plush couches and enjoy the view and the sweet dessert wine. We watch the stars slowly move across the sky as minutes turn into hours, and the sweet, heavy wine disappears glass by glass from the bottle.

“Everyone is growing up so fast,” Seb tells me after a sip. “Hannah is a young woman now. Almost turning sixteen. How did that happen?”

“Time does fly, indeed. I still remember Arthur being unable to walk and now he runs like he’s training for a marathon,” I tell him with a little bit of a laugh. “Hannah has always been headstrong and independent. That hasn't changed, at least.”

“True. She’s doing a dinner with friends here at home for her birthday, and we mere mortals are even allowed to be present for the cake. How lucky are we, right?” His sarcastic humor makes me laugh, and casually, Sebastian loops his arm around my shoulder. It might be the wine, or the romantic aura of the evening, but I lay my head on his shoulder without a second thought, a smile on my face.

“I've missed this, Jules,” I hear him, saying in a low voice. “Terribly.”

I take a moment to think about my next set of word but I decide to tell him the truth without holding back. “Well…this is how it used to be before Karl got the best of you.” Despite my honest statement, Sebastian doesn’t flinch and remains just as close as before, listening attentively. “Then you pulled away from everyone. You became fixated on revenge, Seb, and by proxy, you stopped loving us the way you should.”

He lets out a deep sigh, his arm tightening around my shoulder. “I've realized that now, Jules. I'm so damned sorry. But I can't go back and fix the past.”

I can feel the sadness in his voice, and I know he's telling the truth. There is a part of me that is angry at him still for how he treated us all, but the rest of me is desperate to make everything better.

“Let's not talk about Karl right now. He’s robbed enough of our time,” I tell him, as I tilt my head up to meet his gaze. “I noticed Hannah wasn't texting at dinner and was even talking to you. That's new.”

He chuckles, his lips turning upwards. “Yeah. To both of our surprises, we get along.”

“That's quite impressive,” I admit, feeling quite proud of him. “I've always thought she was going to be the toughest of our kids to connect with, yet here we are, and you've managed it.” Growing quieter, I then add, “I'm glad you two are getting on well. Maybe that can be the silver lining to these last terrible few months.”

Sebastian seems like he's going to respond in kind, but something comes over him, a desperation clouding his features. “Julia, I don't want to talk about Karl or Hannah anymore. I want to talk about us.”

“Sebastian, I—”

“Life isn't the same without you here,” he blurts out, words thick with sadness and grief. “Please come back. Let’s make it work between us.”

“I’m still having nightmares about that lap dance, Seb,” I find myself saying, before I finish up my glass. The alcohol seems to make every thought rolling right out of my mouth. “I wish I never saw that video in the first place.”

“I swear on everything you want, Julia, that it won’t happen again.” His words are delivered with not only deep conviction but also with a severity I wasn’t expecting. “The only person I want to be with is you. You are my everything.”

Before I can sway into him, letting him hold me the way I crave, I jump to my feet and make a show of checking my watch. I haven't noticed how much the wine has affected me until I'm on my feet, feeling unsteady. “I should get going,” I tell him stumbling back a few steps. “It's getting late.”

Sebastian stands too, grabbing my elbow in a gentle grip, only holding me steady and nothing more. “Sweetheart, it's already late and you've been drinking. Don't you want to just stay and sleep here? It's your house too, you know.”

I pause for a moment, thinking over his proposition. The long ride back to my mother's while drunk sounds both dangerous and miserable. “Fine, but I'm staying in the guest bedroom.”

Sebastian’s clearly disappointed, but he respects my choice and just nods in return. “Of course. I will get it ready for you. Let's go.”

I loop my arm through his, letting my husband take some of my weight so I don't stumble all that much. He puts his other arm around my waist, but I don't mind. It's sort of nice, touching him like this, knowing that he isn't going to push his luck with me.

Once we're in the guest bedroom, I lean against the dresser, watching Sebastian taking a new flat sheet out of the chest at the end of the bed, spreading it out.

“The bed isn't ready?” I ask, surprised. It looks made to me.

“There's no flat sheet on it. Just the comforter, which is way too warm for September,” Sebastian says, looking out of his element.

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