Page 114 of Accidental Theirs
“Maids need jobs, and I hate cleaning.”
I hum, nearly asleep as he crawls into bed next to me, pulling me close.
He pats my hair, and I nuzzle against his neck.
“You’re exhausted. Get some sleep.”
My eyelidsdofeel droopy, but there’s something I want to ask him. Something I need to know before I get into this too deep.
“The woman in the picture. She’s your... ex-wife?”
Stony silence fills the air, and it wakes me up a bit.
I sit up on one elbow, looking at him intently. “Bash?”
“I asked you not to ask me about that,” he says flatly.
“I need to know.”
He turns to look at me, searching my face. “Not an ex-wife.”
I bolt upright in bed. “You’re stillmarried?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
I frown. “Sebastian. You have to tell me what’s going on. I can’t be having a baby with a married man...”
He lets out a shaking breath. “Okay, okay. Calm down. I’ll tell you.”
I keep my frown as I look at him, but he won’t look back at me, looking down at his hands in his lap.
“Her name was Sophie.” His voice is so low I can barely hear him. “We were married in the spring, nearly seventeen years ago.”
He pauses, and I don’t know if he’s going to continue, but he does, still looking down at his hands, speaking as if every word hurts.
“We were married for almost eighteen months when she was diagnosed with breast cancer.”
Realization sweeps over me, and my heart aches.
“Oh, Bash,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes.
He hitches in a breath that sounds almost like a sob. “The other night, when you came over... that was her birthday. We met on her birthday. She was at a party, and I’ve never seen anyone shine so bright.”
Oh, my God.
And I’d judged him, called him a playboy when he was just trying to get through what must be the hardest day of the year.
“Sebastian, I’m so sorry.”
He wipes at his eyes with the heels of his hands, his chest heaving. “She was diagnosed near Christmas. She was gone before her birthday in March.”
I can’t stop myself from climbing into his lap and putting my arms around his neck. I press my forehead to his.
He doesn’t pull away, still trying to get himself under control.
“You don’t have to be so strong, you know? It’s okay to not be okay sometimes.”
“I try not to think about her. Unless it’s her birthday.” He sounds far away, numb. “On her birthday, I let myself remember everything.”
