33

tabby

With the new haircut, I almost didn’t recognize Sebastian when I woke up the next morning. I had grown accustomed to the wash of blonde hair, sprayed across the pillow to blend into mine. A thought crossed my mind, as I laid there under the outstretched fingers of sunshine—had he cut it for me? To trap himself into the societal box I had stuffed myself in?

I rolled over onto my stomach and laid a hand over his back. Knowledge unraveled in my gut, telling me this would be our last time together. My last time waking up with him by my side. My last time enjoying the type of sleep he helped me to have. I wanted to close my eyes and go back there, back to my world of sweet dreams, to enjoy just a few more minutes of this free life I had only with him.

But we weren’t some late-night fairytale, and he could never be mine. Not with the separate lives we kept.

Leaning over to press my lips between his tattooed shoulder blades, I climbed out of bed and went to use the bathroom. When I returned, I found him sitting up and waiting for me, arms reaching out and beckoning for me to come back, but I shook my head. He immediately appeared wounded.

“I have to get back,” I insisted regrettably. “I told Mrs. Worthington I’d help her pack some of her things. She’s moving into her niece’s house in a couple weeks and doesn’t trust the movers to handle everything, and—”

“Do you need help? Grey and I can come and give you a hand.” he cut me off, swinging his legs out of bed.

“No, I …” I swallowed my remorse and shook my head. “I can handle it.”

“Okay,” he relented, and in unabashed naked glory, he walked to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me against him. His erection pressed urgently against my stomach, and I could’ve cried, knowing I’d never enjoy him again. “But maybe first, we can handle this, uh, hard and pressing issue I’m dealing with right now.”

I let myself laugh. “I’d love to, but I really can’t.”

He didn’t speak again as his chin touched the top of my head, breathing deeply and tightening his arms around me. I wondered if he knew, if he could sense where this was headed, and I imagined I could hear the tiniest sound of his heart splintering.

***

We stopped for coffee before the limo picked us up. I thought it couldn’t hurt to indulge in one last moment together, alone, with the emotional effects of the night before still clinging to our skin and hearts.

I entered the coffee shop first and inhaled the rich, bitter scent of the morning’s brew. The shop was cheery, a stark and welcomed contrast to the melancholy sting in my chest.  

We walked hand-in-hand to stand in line, and Sebastian began to order for us both, when a familiar voice interrupted him.

Another fated meeting, destined to destroy.

“Tabitha?” Roman greeted me with a question, cocking his head and taking in the dress and sneakers I had worn the night before. “What a surprise.” Then, with what could only be described as a sneer, his eyes drifted from my face to take in Sebastian. “Fancy meeting you here, Sebastian. Nice haircut.”

Sebastian’s hand lifted to touch his hair. Every mention of the cut seemed to remind him of what was missing. “Oh, thanks, man. Thought it was time for a change.”

Realizing Sebastian and I were still linked together, I yanked my hand away from his and held it to my chest. “Roman, it’s so nice to see you.”

“Mm,” he uttered through lips pinched tightly. His scrutinizing gaze was pinned to Sebastian. “What are the two of you up to today? Going to a party?”

“Nah, just heading home,” Sebastian answered, before I had the chance to reply.

“Sebastian,” I warned him, tightening my hands to my chest.

“We have nothing to hide from him, right?” Sebastian said in protest before turning back to Roman. “We went out to dinner with a couple friends of mine and stayed in the city overnight.”

I could’ve killed him, if Roman’s steely glare didn’t threaten to do it for me.

“I see.” The two little words had enough impact, enough disgust, to set my face ablaze with my shame. “Well, I hope you two are very happy—”

“I’m not with him,” I interjected with an urgent desire to shove Sebastian away.

“That’s none of my business, apparently,” Roman dismissed me, accepting a cup the barista handed to him with a thankful nod.

A knot of dread festered in my gut. “Roman, just let me—”

“I will not talk about this here,” Roman cut me off in a voice that made me feel our eight-year difference had grown by twenty. “You can call my office on Monday. Leave a message with my secretary.”

“I, um, I could call your cell later?” I offered weakly, gripping my hands to my chest and twisting my fingers together.

“There won’t be any need for that. In fact, you should delete my number altogether. Have a good day.” And with that, he straightened his tie in a clichéd manner and hurried around us to enter the bustling world outside.

Quickly realizing what had happened, Sebastian released a wheezing breath before shaking his head. “Fucking hell, Tabby,” he grumbled before turning around and hurrying outside.

I ran after him.