There’s still a spark in her eyes for me, and though she offered this favor out of the kindness of her heart, she has another motivation. For reasons I can’t fathom, she still sees something worth salvaging in me. Even after I dropped her cold when Katie died. No phone call, no text, no explanation. I ghosted her and never looked back.
“I’ve donated most of the items to charity as you asked,” she informs me. “But there were a few things I found you may want to look through.”
“There’s nothing of his that I want.”
“Sebastian, they aren’t his things,” she says softly. “They were your mother’s.”
I choke back the rest of the whisky in my glass and pour another one while she retrieves a file box and sets it on the counter. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t even tempted to look, but I owe my mother that much. After she died, my father locked away every visible reminder of her. At the time, I thought he’d done it to punish us, but now I know that as heartless as he was, he did it because he missed her so much.
Inside the box, I find one of her scarves, her favorite book, and a ring. My grandmother’s ring. I’d completely forgotten about its existence until now. My mother always loved this piece, and for whatever reason, my father wouldn’t allow her to use it as her wedding ring. He insisted on buying her something new because he had something to prove.Always something to prove.
“Thank you, Megan.” I place the items back into the box and seal the lid. “I will take these after all.”
“I thought you’d like them.” She smiles at me warmly as her fingers graze my arm. “I’m so glad, Sebastian.”
During our last few meetings, Megan has used every opportunity to touch me. And the way she’s looking at me right now, I don’t doubt for a second she’d let me bend her over right here and fuck her. That’s what she wants, and she probably thinks it’s what I need. But Megan doesn’t get it. Stella ruined me for anyone else. She’s the only one who can make me well again.
“How long do you think it will take to sell?” I redirect her attention back to the only business we have between us.
Her lips pinch together, but she remains as professional as ever. “Not long at all. This place is gorgeous, and the location is prime.”
“Good.” I polish off my drink. “Let’s get rid of it as soon as possible.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
STELLA
“FINALLY!”Sybil flops onto my bed and sighs dramatically. “I feel like I’ve hardly seen you lately.”
“I know.” I offer her an apologetic smile. “But check this out.”
She props her head up on my pillow as I retrieve the cash box from my nightstand drawer. When I fork it over and she opens it up, her eyes bulge with excitement.
“Holy shit, Cherrybomb. You’ve been making some bank.”
“It’s a good start,” I agree. “I have enough for an apartment and at least some baby stuff. I’m still working on it, but it’s hard to keep up.”
“Patrick told me the site he made for you has really taken off,” she says.
“It has. Between the custom Instagram photos, student headshots, and event shoots, I have something going every weekend and at least a few nights of the week. I’ve also been selling some stock photos, so that helps too.”
“And who said photography wouldn’t pay off?” she smirks.
“I’ll have to get another job after the baby comes.” I shrug. “Something with a more consistent paycheck. But at least I’ll have a launching pad this way.”
“You are simply amazing.” She smiles at me with genuine pride, and it hits me right in the feels. “I can’t believe you’re juggling school and all of this too. I don’t know how you do it.”
“I’m exhausted.” I laugh. “But it makes me happy. I think everything will be okay.”
But even as I say it, I can’t help noticing the pain that still lingers in my voice. Focusing on photography has been a good distraction, but in the back of my mind, Sebastian is always in my thoughts. Sybil notices it too, and though she’s tried to talk me into contacting him, I haven’t caved yet. I’m determined to do this on my own if that’s what it comes down to. Whether Sebastian will ever be a part of this baby’s life is still yet to be determined.
“Tell me what’s going on with you.” I change the subject.
She wiggles her brows and bolts upright, and already, I can tell she has big news. “I wanted to wait to tell you, but since you asked…”
“What is it?” I prod.
“I got into Juilliard!” She screams and then throws herself back with such abandon I can’t help but laugh.