Chapter 46

After dinner, they relaxed in his bed and watched some animated Disney movie that Naomi had found on TV. She’d seen pieces of them here and there when she’d babysat for her nieces and nephews, but hadn’t seen one from beginning to end since she was a kid herself.

“Well, that one was better than the last movie you chose,” Sebastian said when it ended.

“Glad you enjoyed it. I saw you bopping around to that song when they were sailing across the ocean.”

“I was not…bopping,” he said as though the word held a meaning that was somehow beneath him.

“I know bopping when I see it.”

Sebastian stared at her for a long moment before grabbing her around the hips and tickling her. “There was no bopping involved,” he said as he pinned her to the bed and continued his assault.

Naomi squirmed beneath him, laughing hysterically.

“Say it,” he said with a laugh, finally letting up for long enough that she could speak.

She caught her breath before saying, “You definitely bopped.”

As expected, Sebastian’s hands returned to her until she was able to breathe out, “Fine…mercy…no bopping.”

Sebastian looked pleased with himself as he settled back against the pillows and pulled Naomi onto his chest. Still breathless, she remained quiet for a while, simply enjoying her place against Sebastian’s body.

After a long while, she asked Sebastian something she’d been wondering since the two had gotten closer. She knew the question would most likely require her to answer the same one in return, but that didn’t stop her from asking it. “What are your plans for the semester off if you win the award?”

She felt Sebastian’s head move down to look at her, and his fingers gave her a small, teasing squeeze. “Ahh, so you admit I have a chance at winning.”

“It’s not a very good one, but yes, statistically speaking, you obviously have a chance.”

“Nothing too exciting,” he answered. “I’d just like to use the semester to finish my book and make sure it’s what I feel it deserves before I try to get someone to pick it up.” He rubbed her bicep and gave her a light kiss on her forehead. “What about you?”

And there it was. In truth, maybe she’d asked Sebastian the same question so she’d have a reason to reveal this. But now that the moment had presented itself to her, she wasn’t sure how to respond to it.

She must have been quiet for longer than she realized, because Sebastian asked her again.

“I plan to use it when I adopt a baby as sort of like a maternity leave.”

She felt Sebastian stiffen at her admission, but he didn’t say anything. At least right away. Finally, after a few tense moments, he said, “You’re adopting a baby?”

“Eventually. I hope to, but I just started the process a few months ago, though I’ve been considering it for a while. It’s an extensive process—social workers, clearances, meetings with biological parents. It probably won’t happen overnight, nor will it coincide with the start of a semester. So I’d most likely have to use some unpaid time the semester the baby’s born and then take the next one off as the award. And I’d have to make sure I took some classes—something to be sure I fulfill the academic requirement.”

“What happens if you don’t win?” Sebastian asked.

Before he asked that question, she hadn’t even thought of how revealing her plans might seem, so she rushed to explain herself. “I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty if you get the award. Whoever wins, wins. And if that person isn’t me, I’ll figure things out. I’ll just have to take more time unpaid. It’ll be difficult financially, but I’ll make it work.” She left out the part where she would have to wait longer to adopt because she simply couldn’t afford to go through the whole process and take time unpaid.

Sebastian grunted out an “Mm” but said nothing else, and eventually she fell sound asleep, content to be in Sebastian’s arms.

Sometime later, the morning light woke her, and she climbed out of bed to head to the kitchen. Sebastian seemed to be sound asleep still, so she was careful not to wake him when she went to the cabinet to get a mug for her tea.

Quietly, she turned on the coffeemaker for Sebastian and got a teabag and some honey out for herself. She didn’t want to wake him by putting water in a kettle on the stove, so she’d opted for the microwave. She set the timer for two minutes to make sure it was hot enough and then went about making his coffee.

She opened the microwave door just before it dinged and then reached in to remove the mug. “Shit!” she yelled, immediately letting go so she didn’t burn herself more than she just had. The hot water splashed all over the stove below it as the mug hit the edge before landing on the floor and spilling the remaining contents. She managed to jump back before she burned herself any further, but it was at the mug’s expense. The handle popped off and a chunk chipped off the side. She cursed again a few more times, partly because she was in pain, despite running her hand under cold water, and partly because she’d broken something of his when it was clear (now that she looked at it closely) that the mug wasn’t microwavable. Why anyone would own one of those, she didn’t understand.

“What happened?” Sebastian was behind her in an instant, asking to see her hand and telling her he’d get her ice.

He moved through the kitchen quickly, wrapping the ice in a towel and then giving it to her to hold before turning to deal with the water and broken porcelain.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t expect it to be that hot.”

He began an “It’s okay,” but he never quite finished it, replacing the last syllable with, “You used this mug?” Even though he was kneeling down now to pick up the three separate pieces, he seemed in disbelief. “Why would you put this in the microwave?” He was looking at her now, his voice sounding pained in a way that seemed to momentarily take away her own. She didn’t answer before he added, “It’s broken. Jesus, Naomi, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I wanted tea. I’m sorry. I’ll get you a new one. I’ll even make it one that’s microwavable.” She smiled, hoping he would too, but the gesture went unreciprocated. “Are you mad?” she asked, noticing the rigidness to his jaw and the way he pulled at his hair.

“No,” he said quietly. “I’m not mad. I’m…” He shook his head as he rose from the ground and carefully placed the pieces of the mug on the counter. “I don’t know what I am.”

“It’s just a mug.” He was starting to scare her. Not scare her in a way like she was afraid of him but scare her in a way that made her afraid for him. “I can fix it if you liked that one.”

“You can’t fix this.” His tone was harsh, but he didn’t seem to care.

“I can.” She moved toward him, reaching for the pieces so she could show him how easily they’d fit back together. “I can get some glue that’ll hold—”

“I said you can’t fix it.”

This time she said nothing, unsure of how to reply. Fuck him and his stupid mug. “People make mistakes, Sebastian.”

The breath he took was deep, and she prepared herself for what might come after it. He looked like he might explode. Or implode. Or—

“Matty painted this for me,” he said, holding it between both hands as he ran his thumb over the bumpy exposed porcelain. “And it’s ruined.”

The way her chest tensed so tightly made her wonder what Sebastian was feeling right now. “Oh God, Sebastian. I’m so sorry. I’ll fix it. I’ll find a way.” She would. She’d have to. There was no other choice.

“I said it can’t be fixed.” Now his eyes were on her, and despite the tears that looked like they were threatening to fall, there was a hard edge to his voice, and his features seemed to match. “It’s not fixable. Don’t you get that? None of this is. Your fertility problems, the fact that one of us is going to get the award and the other isn’t. That one of us will get to fulfill their dream and the other might struggle.” His tone softened a bit before he added, “That my family is dead. None of it can be changed. It’s all fucking permanent.”

“I get that. I do.”

“Do you?” he snapped.

“Where is this all coming from?” She’d wanted to snap back—defend herself and her honor—but she knew that would only escalate things. And more than that, she knew Sebastian was speaking from a place of pain, even if that pain was currently masquerading as anger.

“It’s coming from a place that I never show anyone because no one can possibly understand. A place so deep inside me that I sometimes wonder if it still exists.” He pointed to his chest. “I already had my chance at having a family. I had something I loved and I lost it, and it was like losing my entire purpose. And just when I thought I was starting to find it again—that we could be something—I’m starting to realize that we’re just too different, you and me. Even though our paths intersected for a bit, their destination isn’t the same. It would be stupid to keep trying when failure is inevitable.”

“Well, that’s one thing we can both agree on.” She was angry too now, angry that he’d wasted her time, that she’d cared for a man—loved him, even—who was clearly incapable of loving her back.

Sebastian seemed to relax a bit, like her comment had made this easier for him in some way. “We should probably just go back to what we do best—caring only about ourselves and hating each other.”

“I never hated you. I told you that.”

“Well then, maybe we should just pretend the other one doesn’t exist.”

She gave him a disgusted laugh before saying, “That’s more your specialty, isn’t it? You’ve had years of practice at being a selfish narcissist. We may not be together, but I won’t pretend you don’t exist, Sebastian. I love you. And for once I wish you’d stop trying to be such a hardass and admit you love me back.”

Without looking at her, he swallowed hard. “I would if that were true.”

Her eyes rolled, but since his eyes were still focused on the ground, she knew he didn’t see it. “I’m sorry I broke your mug, Sebastian. I really am. But you’re such a fucking asshole sometimes.”

“See?” he said, before turning away from her and heading back toward his room. “You’re already off to a good start.”