Page 55 of The Spice Play

“How’s the car?”

Nelly paused with her hand on the handle of the sliding glass door, milliseconds from opening it and escaping to the guest house. She’d been distant all evening, and I’d let her be, hopeful that if I just gave her enough time, she’d settle in and we could justtalk. But the moment she’d headed for the door, I panicked, hopeful that I could just nudge her back.

She turned to look at me over one shoulder, that same look back in her eyes that I just couldn’t place. “Exactly the same as it's been since I started driving it.”

Right.I hadn’t given her anything to go on, really. “Do you like it?”

“It’s a nice car.”

A heaviness settled between us as I watched her from behind the couch, nothing but the idle chatter of the television and our breathing to fill the space. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what tosay. And in my stupid, misplaced desperation to keep her in here, to reel her back, utter shit stumbled out of my mouth. “Stay,” I said. “Maybe we could do another lesson or something.”

She huffed a breath as she opened the door. “Goodnight, Sebastian.”

————

“Seb! On the ice!” Coach shouted, his arms going out to either side of him as he skated backward toward Luke.

“One second!” I called back.

I clicked through the checkout process on my phone, hoping, praying that maybe my old peace offerings to Taryn would somehow help and improve the situation. A simple bouquet of flowers, delivered directly to the house. I’d tried to think back to the day Nelly had moved in, tried to recall the flowers she’d brought for the guesthouse — baby’s breath, calla lilies, and… eucalyptus? That had to be right.

I checked out, adding the option for a little note on the side, but Coach’s insufferable shouting to get back on the ice cut through, and I typed as quickly as I could.For the house.

I wanted her to know that she had a place there. Even if she didn’t want it.

I checked out my basket and put my phone back in my bag, popped my skate guards off, and got back on the ice.

Chapter 23

Nelly

Ineeded a night off. Desperately.

I needed to get out, get away from the house, get away from him and Matty, and take time to just put myself back into my own skin. Maybe even sleep at my apartment instead of in the much comfier bed at the guesthouse. I just needed to not feel the overwhelming stress of all of it.

I wasn’t happy with work except for the moments when it was just me and Matty, and because work was also home now, I couldn’t be happy athome. I couldn’t think of anything other than removing myself, at least temporarily. I felt suffocated and trapped here. I just needed to breathe.

I stared at Sebastian’s calendar on my phone as he and Matty colored in his coloring book on the kitchen’s bartop, the gigantic box of crayons open beside Matty and his little hands fishing around inside for something specific. There wasn’t a game for another six days, and Sebastian didn’t have anything scheduled for tonight or tomorrow morning. It could work.

“Can I have tonight off?” I asked.

Sebastian’s head snapped right up to meet my gaze, the bouquet of flowers he’d sent for the house sitting in a vase beside him. They were an odd choice for the house and didn’t match the decor in the slightest, but I’d set them out for him regardless. “Sure.”

“No,” Matty complained, his lower lip jutting out. “Daddy’s making pizza.”

“If Nelly wants the night off, she can have the night off,” Sebastian said plainly, his gaze lingering on me a second longer before dropping back to his son’s coloring book. “Don’t complain.”

“Thanks,” I sighed. “I just?—”

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” he said, plucking the orange crayon out of Matty’s discarded pile. “It’s fine. Do whatever you need to.”

I blinked, confusion rippling through me. He’d said that so nonchalantly, so indifferently — did he not care at all that I needed an out? Or was this his way of acting civil when he was clearly still frustrated with me, too?

And why did it have tohurtthat this didn’t faze him?

“I’ll just… go get ready then,” I mumbled, pushing off the counter and stepping around the bartop. “Just need to blow off some steam. I’ll, uh, be at Smokey’s if you need anything.”

“I won’t,” hesaid.

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