Page 74 of Time After Time
I unintentionally gasped aloud. Sylvie’s head snapped toward me, but I didn’t meet her eyes. I was frozen, caught by what had just slipped out between my lips. Sebastian’s eyes were glistening, and despite the anger I could see etched in every tight muscle of his face, there were tears threatening to spill over, tears he was desperately trying to hide.
“You don’t have to lie about it. You could just say something happened, and that when you’re ready, you’ll talk about it.” Sylvie’s feet tapped against the ground as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.
“I would have said that, and you both would have still followed me. Tell me I’m wrong, Sylvie. I know you both.”
At that, Sylvie grimaced, knowing he was right. If he’d told us something had happened and that he would talk about it when he was ready, we would’ve been worried too. We would’ve tried to figure out what was going on, guessing and questioning, especially after his accident.
“Therapy.”
The word hung in the air, simple but heavy, and we both stared at him, waiting for more.
“I decided to start therapy. My body isn’t healing like I thought it would, and that’s been harder than I expected. Happy now? Well, I’m late for my appointment.”
Without another word, Sebastian turned and walked away, his back straight, his footsteps sharp against the pavement. Hedidn’t glance back, didn’t offer a single sign of what he was feeling.
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach.
I had fucked up.
An hourand a half had passed since Sebastian disappeared into Kennedy’s house. The one therapist in Golden Sands I’d discovered during my research while I waited for him. I sat on the bench, my eyes drifting up every few minutes toward the spot where I expected him to appear. He would have to walk through the square to get back to his cottage or Cora’s house, so I stayed put. I’d told Sylvie she could leave once Sebastian was out of sight, but here I was, still lingering. Waiting. Hoping for a chance to talk to him, to apologise.
A deep sigh startled me, pulling my attention away from my phone, where I had gathered all the information on mid-shaft fractures. It was the same information I’d researched and copied into my notes the moment I learned what had happened to Sebastian’s arm.
“It’s hot. What are you still doing here?” He didn’t sit, just asked.
I opened my mouth to answer, but no words came out. Not even the ones I knew I needed to say the moment I saw him. The apology. The words I truly felt because it hadn’t been my intention to make him angry, to make him feel like I didn’t trust him, even though my actions had clearly said otherwise.
“I’ve been irritable since the accident, and I want to stop being like that.”
I looked up at him, squinting against the light. He noticed and pulled my sunglasses down from the top of my head, settling them over my eyes without saying a word.
“I started realising I wasn’t just being hard on myself,” he said, voice low. “I was shutting people out too—my parents, you… everyone. I snapped without meaning to. I let things slide. I didn’t take care of myself, and I definitely wasn’t taking care of the people who matter to me. That’s not who I want to be. That’s not who I am.”
He let out a shaky sigh, his head falling between his slumped shoulders.
“I’m so sorry, Gen. The way I talked to you… I hate it. I hate I reacted like that, and…”
His body trembled slightly. He stopped and closed his eyes, drawing in a slow, steady breath. I wondered if his therapist had taught him to do that.
“Sebastian… It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have talked to you that way. I’m sorry,” Sebastian said, his voice softer now, as he sat down next to me, just a little too close. Before I could respond, he spoke again, his words tumbling out as if he needed to say them all at once. “I didn’t want my mum, Robert, or you to think that your words didn’t matter to me. That you weren’t giving me the support I needed.”
He didn’t look at me. His eyes stayed glued to his feet, shifting slightly, but not meeting mine. His shoes bumped against mine in a playful, almost nervous motion. “Everything you all said meant something. It helped, even if it didn’t feel like it at the time. But I guess... I needed more than just words. I needed someone to give me tools, something to help me—” His eyes flicked to his right arm, and instead of the sadness I expected, I saw a spark of determination, followed by the faintest curve of his lips. I reached out without thinking, placingmy hand on his thigh and squeezing. “To accept it, and to make the little voice understand that I’m still me, and that I can still do the things that matter to me,” he finished, his voice almost a whisper.
“Why didn’t you say anything? You know we would have supported you every step of the way, right?”
He nodded slowly, his gaze still on the ground.
“And therapy is completely normal, Sebastian. It’s something that will do you good. We… I don’t think any of us would have ever thought we weren’t enough for you.”
His shoulders tensed, and he exhaled sharply. “It made me feel… I’m not sure. I’m having a hard time knowing how I feel.”
My heart sank at his words. “What do you mean?”
“Therapy,” he said, the word weighted with frustration, but I could hear the need behind it too. “Going back to therapy… at first, it made me feel like everything I worked for, everything I had learned and trained my mind for, just crumbled. Like it was all temporary.”
He finally met my gaze. His eyes moved slowly over my face, taking in every detail. A heavy silence hung between us. Then he smiled—faintly, sadly—and leaned forward, resting his forehead against mine for just a moment. Then, just as quickly, he pulled away.
