Page 75 of Sebastian

I stifle my smile and nod, forgetting the testosterone these younger guys have needs to be released one way or another.

“By all means.”

I am not inclined to help, but I still expect him to tell me what happened. His body sags in relief as if assembling a tree will help blow off some steam. I’d look to my bedroom to help him relieve some of that pent-up stress if we were in a different place, but we’re miles from that now. He hoists the tree onto his shoulder as if it weighs nothing and then turns to me.

“Where do you want it set up?”

I point to the corner, still unwilling to move the chair in his way. He doesn’t even notice, setting the box near it and then deciding the chair should go across the room, changing the living room’s dynamics and making it look more inviting.

“You’re not using this as an excuse to avoid telling me what is happening with your ex-girlfriend.”

He stops fussing with the furniture to stare at me.

“Chloe, I need something to do with my hands while I tell you so I don’t punch holes in your walls.” His voice is deathly low, causing me to pause and raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Yeah, it’s that fucking bad.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Trust me.”

He takes a pocket knife from his pants and cuts the plastic straps surrounding the box.

“Long story short, she’s pregnant alright. After spending the day shopping with her, I took your advice and used my connections to find a doctor to confirm it.”

A pang of jealousy stabs my heart at the thought of them being together all day, while he couldn’t have sent me a five second text message.

“Don’t even look like that, Chloe. It was literally hell. I just kept my mouth shut and handed over my black card.”

I didn’t realize he could read me so easily. I need to work on my poker face.

“Twenty grand and about eight hours later, I find out it’s not my kid.”

“Wait, what?” I shake my head and blink rapidly, not believing the words I’m hearing. “The doctor charged you twenty thousand dollars to tell you it’s not yours?”

He chuckles, a sinister and disgusting laugh so uncharacteristic of him that I’ll remember it for a long time.

“Not exactly. Gio’s papa is a lady doctor. I took her there. That was only a few hundred. Before, I took her everywhere and paid for a custom nursery to be installed at her place. Gio was an irritating gnat, banging down my door last night to talk to me. He was the one who put two and two together way faster than I did. I love that idiot.”

“I’m confused.”

I wave my hand in the air as he resumes opening the box. The tension in his hands and the whites of his knuckles indicate how angry he’s getting.

“Start at the beginning. You left here, and then what?”

His breath comes out in a huff as the lid pops from the box he’s already ripping into unnecessary shreds. He builds the tree as he takes me through his day, telling me how hot I looked when I crossed the parking lot and that he turned his phone off shortly after.

He takes me through when Gio left last night, driving to Veronica’s place to pound on her door. At first, she played dumb, acted sick, and finally fessed up to the deception when Sebastian recorded Gio calling his dad and reviewing a conception calendar.

I can’t help but react to every crazy twist in his story while he fluffs the tree branches, bending some a little too much out of anger. It’s only when I stand to give him a hug that he practically collapses onto me. The size difference is so much that I suggest we sit on the couch.

“I don’t want to be a papa, Chloe. Is it bad of me to be relieved?” His words are heavy with guilt and sorrow. “I don’t have it in me to be like my parents.”

“No one expects you to.” I lean forward to hug him. He pulls me onto his lap and starts to sob in my hair. “You’re wonderful just the way you are.”

His embrace is tight, his hands clutching my waist as the tears pour out of him. I feel his anguish, the pain of betrayal, and the shattered trust.

“No one has ever said that to me, Chloe.” He pushes me back to gaze into my eyes. His are rimmed in red, as is the tip of his nose. “I’m always living in the shadows of my parents. I don’t want that for a kid. I don’t want anyone to go through what I’m going through. No one understands that.”

I stroke his hair, offering what comfort I can.

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