Page 44 of Release
Chapter 17
SEBASTIAN shiftedin his chair at the dinner table. After the news about Alexandra and Wilkes, he was less eager to be at his aunt and uncle’s house tonight, but it beat spending the evening alone. Aunt Sadie’s eyes softened when she placed the garlic mashed potatoes on the table in front of him. She probably knew about what he was going through, even without Sebastian saying a word.
“Sorry I’m a bit tired from my physio session today,” he lied, trying to save face.
“No need to apologize, son,” his uncle Lucas told him from the head of the table. “I mean, you’ve always been more on the quiet side.”
“Don’t worry about us,” his aunt added. “You hardly talk much after those sessions, but now we think we have a better understanding about why that is tonight.”
Sebastian looked over at his aunt when she finally took a seat so they could start eating. “Really? You’ve already figured me out, haven’t you? I could never hide stuff from the two of you.”
Sebastian said that, but was skeptical. Unless they picked up watching TV all of a sudden after not owning one for the thirty-plus years they had been together, there was no way she could have his situation figured out. Hell, even he didn’t have his situation figured out. Still, while he was skeptical, he was also a bit curious now. “Tell me, then. What is it you think you understand is going on with me? Maybe I need all the help I can get.” It was as much a challenge as it was a request.
He reached for a piece of bread, waiting for one of them to say something. He was expecting some long, drawn out explanation, but instead, Aunt Sadie surprised him with three short words.
“You’re in love.”
“Excuse me? How did you guess that?” He was fairly certain he snorted somewhere in his reply. She was right, but how on earth did she figure this out without him saying a thing? It was beyond him.
With confidence, she replied, “You might be trying to tell yourself you’re not, but you’re not fooling anyone. I’m guessing you aren’t even doing a decent job at fooling yourself.” A slight smile turned up one corner of her lips. “Go ahead, try to tell me I’m wrong.”
“I’m more interested in what I’m doing, or not doing, to give off whatever is making you so sure of this.” He admitted to nothing. Nothing. If he did, their next request would be to meet her. Right now, there was no one to meet.
After a sip of her wine, she sat her glass down carefully and tilted her head, staring at Sebastian with an odd expression on her face. “Wow. You really are in denial, aren’t you, son? Whoever this girl is, she did a number on you. Was it a nasty break-up?” Her words flowed out without a breath between sentences. Sebastian opened his mouth to say something when she spoke again. “Wait…this is pretty recent, isn’t it?”
“You can’t have a breakup with someone you never really had a chance with,” he finally admitted. “So, how long have you been a psychic, Aunt Sadie?” He looked over at his uncle. “Has she always been like this? I haven’t seen her like this before.”
Uncle Lucas nodded. “There’s no point trying to keep anything from Sadie, son. She’ll drag it out of you before you ever open your mouth to speak, so you might as well lay it on the line.”
Sebastian turned to his aunt, hoping there was still time to change the subject. “Do you think you can share your garlic mash recipe? These are great with the pot roast.”
“Hmmm.” Something about the way she was studying him made him uncomfortable. He was either being scrutinized or was about to get a lecture on the tribulations of dating.
No thank you, I’ve had enough of it this round.
Remaining silent, he added nothing more. He cocked an eyebrow, filled his mouth with the pot roast on his plate, and waited. He was sure the curiosity on his face was information enough, and curious he was, as to what analysis she would come up with. She made it clear she was going to ignore his attempt to change the subject. She was not going to let this topic go.
“Why do you feel you never had a chance before, if you feel so strongly for her now?” Aunt Sadie resumed eating as if this was a suitable dinner topic for family, like world news, or politics, or the top wine and cheese pairings during the summer months. He, on the other hand, was completely out of his element.
“It’s a long story,” he answered, immediately realizing he had fallen into her trap by getting right back into the topic.
“It always is,” she said with a smile. “So, let’s hear it. Your uncle and I don’t have any other plans for tonight. All we have is time. Besides, talking about it usually helps. Most normal people call it venting.” Her smile grew to a grin. “What’s her name?”
“Alexandra,” he uttered.
“Tell us how you met her,” she encouraged.
He took a deep breath. This was too tough a conversation to have just hours after learning the woman who told him out of the blue that she loved him was now back with her ex. “I think I’d like to leave well enough alone, Aunt Sadie.”
“Tell me something. What do you have to lose? It’s not like you have anyone else to talk to about it. You parents wanted us to remain close, and it’s clearly bothering you, so why not?”
Ahhh. The guilt trip. Works every time.
Deciding he would not go into too much detail, he told them, “She grew up next door to me.”
“The girl next door! How cute and cliché. Convenient too. So, you grew up together. Go on.”
The weight of just that admission felt heavy on his chest. Whoever said talking about things was therapeutic must not have had much emotion in the mix. This felt heavy and empty and useless all at once, not at all therapeutic or helpful.
