Page 22 of The Spice Play

“Is it just your daddy who takes care of you?” I asked, trying to raise the question in the softest way I could manage. I’d considered asking Sebastian about it, but I didn’t want to cross any lines with him, especially not this early on.

“Mhm. Daddy says mommy is on ajourney of self-discovery,” he said, putting on a thick, deep voice for the last few words that had me trying desperately to stifle a laugh, but when he spoke again, it shut me up entirely. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Shit.

“Daddy doesn’t really talk about her anymore.” Despite the heavy topic, he kept his eyes glued on thewhale shark, watching as it swam past the back of the tank.

“How long has it been since you saw her?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t really remember her.”

An ache blossomed across my chest, and I rubbed his shoulder a little more, wishing I hadn’t brought it up. But he seemed unfazed for the most part, and all I could think to do was buy him as many things as I could that could be sold asreasonablepurchases to Sebastian.

I hoped they had something with Sebastian’s favorite fish on it. Whatever it was since I still didn’t know.

Chapter 10

Sebastian

Not only was just Nelly plaguing my thoughts, but now the goddamn gigantic manta ray stuffed animal they’d gotten me from the aquarium yesterday was, too.

I leaned back on the sofa in front of an early 2000s episode ofSurvivoron the TV, my body aching from practice. I’d taken a brutal fall this morning, and although I’d been able to shake it off and get right back into drills, I was severely paying for it now.

Matty played quietly on the floor beside me, sticking together Legos brick by brick and building some kind of tower for a princess, apparently. He had on a set of over-ear headphones I’d bought him, and in front of his tower,Aladdinplayed on his tablet. But it was the padding of footsteps that came from the hall behind me that had me suddenly becoming less comfortable in my seat, and the moment her voice filtered through the air around me, I knew I wouldn’t be able to regain any sense of comfort.

“Oh my God, is this the season with Rupert in it?” Nelly asked, plonking down on the opposite end of the couch from me. She’d changed outof her dark jeans and white shirt, opting instead for a loose, oversized band shirt and a pair of leggings. Her long brown hair was braided along both sides of her head, showing off more of the blonde highlights that ran through it, and in her hands was a mug of…whipped cream?“It is! There he is,” she exclaimed.

“Whatisthat?” I pointed toward the mug in her hand, my right arm practically screaming at me from the motion of lifting it.

She lifted a single finger to her lips.Hot chocolate, she mouthed. I could only assume she didn’t want Matty to hear and beg her for one. She pointed toward the cup with the same finger that she’d held against her mouth. “With peanut butter,” she added aloud.

Well, shit. Now I wanted one.

Thankfully, Matty’s allergy wasn’t severe enough to be set off by airborne triggers, so we could still keep it in the house and I could eat it to my heart’s content. I just had to be careful with whatheingested.

It had been truly wild to see how easily Nelly was picking up on things like this, how easily she was slotting in with Matty. He’d never been overly quick to open up whenever someone new walked into his life, and especially after the spectacular shitshow that ensued when I had to fire the last nanny, I worried he’d struggle to get used to another one. But when I’d warned him that Nelly would be staying the night tonight for the first time, he’d done nothing other than squeal in excitement.

And part of that, I think, was because he was growing and learning and getting better with these things and was struggling with it less and less — but part of it was Nelly.

“So… the game tomorrow,” Nelly said, taking a sip of her hot chocolate and coating her upper lip in whipped cream. Her tongue darted out, gliding across her lip, licking every bit of it away before slipping back into her mouth.Oh my God.“I know you said Matty doesn’t go to games on school nights?—”

“He’s not coming to the game.” The words came out a little too harsh, a little too rushed.

Her eyes met mine as I turned my head toward her, wide and so angeringly blue. “I think it would be good if you let him.”

“He has school the next day. Out of the question.”

“Maybe he can play hooky,” she offered, lowering the mug down to rest it on her knee. “Look, I’m not trying to push the things you think are bad for him, honestly.”

“Really?” I scoffed. “Because that’stwothings you’ve now suggested that I’m not exactly open to when you barely know him.”

Her eyes narrowed in my direction, determination already glinting in her gaze. “This adjustment period is going to be weird for him. I’m trying to give him moments of joy and excitement to counteract that. He wants to go to the game. So what if he’s up a little late?”

“He’ll be exhausted in the morning if he goes to school. And he’ll miss a whole day of learning if he skips it.”

“One missed day of school won’t make that much of a difference,” she insisted. “I can call them, ask what they’re covering that day, and go over it with him at home. He just wants to see you play, Seb.”

Something about that, the way she spoke, the way she said the shortened version of my name, hit my ears like a fucking knife.Has she called me that before?

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