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ChapterTwenty
Sebastian
Ipour two ounces of scotch into a glass and offer one to Paislee, who shoots me a grateful smile. I casually move towards the window. I’m feeling a bit raw from the emotions that course through me. There's a reason I have always kept a tight lid on the memories of Charlotte. Now that those memories have bubbled to the surface, I am grappling with these feelings of sadness and utter despair.
“Charlotte became pregnant pretty quickly, and I was ecstatic when I got the news. We had very little, but we were content. We made a little corner nursery for Callie in our room. Charlotte gave birth naturally and without complications. But at one of her postpartum appointments, she came back with terrible news.”
I look out into my courtyard and take a deep calming breath. I’m struggling to get past the ugly memory of that day. The memory of Charlotte's tears and heartbreak at the fact that she wouldn't live to see her baby make groundbreaking strides like we'd been dreaming about.
“She'd been diagnosed. Stage three breast cancer.”
“Oh my God,” Paislee mutters behind me. Her voice is a low, sad whisper. “I'm so sorry, Sebastian.”
Her voice is close enough for me to know she's gotten up from the bed.
I shrug.
“We started chemo immediately. But it seemed there was little we could salvage. Her health spiraled. It was a difficult time for me.”
Paislee presses her body against mine and wraps her hands around my stomach in a hug. Her face pressed against my back. Somehow, her sympathy gives me the strength to continue.
“I buried myself in work. I thought...” My breath catches, and I swallow the ball of emotion in my throat. Paislee squeezes me in quiet comfort, and I welcome it with gratitude.
“I thought if I had the money to give her the best health care possible, she would have a chance to survive. No matter how slim that chance was,” I tell Paislee.
Paislee is the first person I'm sharing this particular piece of information with. For that, I feel like I'm ripping out a part of my heart and giving it to her.
“Charlotte didn't appreciate that. I would have been there for her. To hold her hands through her last days. But I prioritized money.” I chuckle bitterly. “…for the better life, I ended up having, but without her here.”
“Look at me,” Paislee says as she turns me around so that we are now facing each other. “You did what you thought was right. You wanted her to stay alive for you and your child. So, you did what you thought would make that possible.”
I blink. How have I not thought about it that way?
“This guilt and shame has been eating me up for years. In her last days, Charlotte resented me.”
“I would like to think she didn’t,” Paislee says with a shake of her head. “You loved her differently than she wanted you to. But that does not make how hard you fought to keep her, in your own way, less valid.”
Paislee's eyes are honest and pleading, shining with tears that cause her eyes to shimmer.
“I—” I begin. Relapsing for the first time and finding myself speechless.
Paislee's words sound right. They sound like what I have been longing to hear all these years.
“Let go of that shame, Sebastian. Let go of the guilt.”
“I don't think it's possible,” I tell her honestly. “I'll always love Charlotte. Letting go of these feelings means letting go of our shared memories. I'll never stop.”
I turn away from those wide, sincere eyes that are filled with so much care and adoration. It hurts to look into them.
Paislee sighs.
“You have people who love you, who will always love you no matter what.”
Her words shoot straight to my heart. I nearly crumble from the conviction in her tone. As I slowly turn around, Paislee is moving towards me. I didn't realize I had been the one reaching out my hands until hers slipped into mine. We fit perfectly, like a puzzle.
Without looking away from her eyes, I lower my head and capture her lips in a slow, sensual kiss. There's no rush. I take my time to show Paislee how much I have come to care for her because I do. But I don't think I could ever love her, not when Charlotte's picture still sits on my desk and her portrait in my drawer.
I know that I should let Paislee go. I'm damaged goods, not deserving of her and all that she has to give. Yet a greedy part of my brain refuses. These past few weeks have been a major turnaround from the routine bleakness I've experienced. I feel more alive with Paislee than I've ever felt. I want her sunshine. I want her warmth. I want to greedily take all that she has to give and submerge myself in her.
