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I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I blink them back. “I will be fine, Mom. I promise. I’ll keep in touch and let you know if anything changes,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel.
We say our goodbyes, and I’m left alone with my thoughts once again. As much as I love my family, I can’t bear the thought of leaving Sebastian showing up at my door and not being home for him in his most vulnerable moments. He needs me now more than ever, and I need him too. The thought of not being able to see him or hold him when he returns is almost too much to bear. I feel so alone and helpless in this moment, and I'm not sure how I’m going to get through it, but immediately feel selfish for having such thoughts. I am not the victim right now, not even close.
I take a deep breath and try to gather myself, knowing that I need to be strong for him when he comes back. But as the minutes tick by, my anxiety grows, and I can feel my resolve slipping away. I just hope he comes back soon, before I completely fall apart.
I reach for my phone and scroll through our messages, reading through our old conversations. The memories flood back, and I’m overcome with longing for him. All his happiness, all his humor, and the things that make him shine so brightly to me have most certainly been destroyed. Will he even be the same man?
I know I need to be strong for Sebastian, but right now, all I can think about is how much I need him to be here with me. Easier said than done, I suppose.
With a deep sigh, I put down my phone and try to focus on the present moment. Sebastian will be back soon, and we’ll get through this together. For now, I just need to take things one hour at a time and stay strong.
Sleep comes for me as I still lay on the couch, wrapped in the blanket Gabi gave me, my stomach rumbling but having no desire to eat. It’s an uncomfortable night, with the ghostly blue of the television screen filling the room, but I can’t make myself get up to find my bed, either, so I accept the restless sleep and wait for dawn.
***
I wake up the next day to a world that feels different from the one I knew just a few days ago. Everything seems to have lost its color, its joy. I drag myself out of the couch and try to make my way through the day, but every little thing reminds me of Sebastian and his family.
And still, he hasn’t contacted me.
My stomach lets me know, in no uncertain terms, that we are not skipping out on breakfast, so I decide to walk down to the cafe near my apartment building and get something small just to hold me over, and maybe a few pastries to go in case I get hungry later. As I’m getting dressed, my phone starts buzzing with notifications, but as I’ve come to expect by now, it’s still not Sebastian. It’s not just my friends, either, but also the media, who have somehow found out about my connection to Sebastian, probably because of the picture of the two of us dancing that had been published recently. God, it seems like another life, that night that we danced in his ballroom.
The media is relentless, though, and I can’t block the numbers fast enough. They’re all asking for exclusive information, wanting to know every little detail about what happened. Even if I knew it all, I wouldn’t give them a single crumb of info. Seeing them circling this tragedy like vultures makes me feel ill.
I try to ignore the calls and texts as I head out the door, but they keep coming in, one after the other. It’s like a constant barrage, and it’s starting to drain me both physically and emotionally.
When I arrive at the cafe, I’m relieved to see that it’s empty except for a few regulars. I take a seat at my usual table and order an iced coffee, sweet and strong, hoping that the caffeine will help me focus. But as soon as I take a sip, my phone starts buzzing again. This time it’s a call from a prominent news reporter, and I can feel my anxiety rising as I answer. Maybe if I take just one single call, the news that I have no information will spread enough that they will leave me alone.
“Can you confirm that Sebastian was on a business trip in Hungary with his dad at the time of the bombing?” the reporter asks the very second the call connects.
“I’m sorry, I can't comment on that,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Are you sure? We just want to get the facts straight,” the reporter presses.
“I can’t say anything. Please respect the family’s privacy during this difficult time. And mine,” I add before hanging up. I hope my voice was firm enough, but now, I’m not so sure it was.
I try to drink the coffee, picking at my pain au chocolat, leaving my phone turned upside down so I can’t see the screen, but the constant buzzing keeps me on edge. What if it’s Sebastian trying to get a hold of me? What if something else terrible happens and I’m just here, ignoring my calls and eating pastries?
Resigned, I look at the phone again. Besides the unknown numbers, there are my friends trying to contact me, most asking if I’m okay since I skipped class yesterday, but some also asking uncomfortable questions. Had that tabloid not published the picture of Sebastian and I at the ball, no one would even know that I’m seeing him. Now, it feels like everyone is privy to my personal life. I love the picture, and felt butterflies when it first came out, thinking about how everyone would now know that Sebastian is interested in me, but the memory of it only leaves a sour taste in my mouth now. I try to tell myself that my friends mean well, but it's hard not to feel like they’re just using me for information. It’s like I’m living in a fishbowl, with everyone watching my every move and waiting for me to slip up.
I try calling Sebastian again, but there’s no answer, of course. The silence on the other end of the line feels like a heavy weight in my chest, and I wonder if he’s even gotten my messages. All I want to know…all I need to know, is that he’s okay.
The day drags on, and my anxiety grows too. I can’t shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong. I reason with myself that he’s probably just busy with the funeral arrangements or that he’s somewhere he can’t answer, but the worry in my heart won’t go away.
Now, just before dinner as I’m doing some school work on my laptop, watching the always-on television, the news anchors announce the funeral time and location. I feel a rush of relief, knowing that Sebastian is still okay if the funeral is happening, but it’s quickly followed by a hollowness inside of me. I desperately want to be there for him, but I might need an invitation to get inside the cathedral. I can’t stand the idea of him being there, with only his father, and no one to comfort him at this horrible time. But how can I get an invitation if he won’t even contact me at all?
The day comes to a close, and I realize that I’ve spent the entire day waiting for a call or a message from him. Yet, he hasn’t said a word, and my entire being is heavy with worry.
I crawl into bed, my thoughts consumed by the horror of the past few days. I try to picture Sebastian’s family in my mind, but all I can see are the images of destruction and chaos from the news…all of it meant for Sebastian. I feel like I’m on the precipice of losing him for good, and it’s killing me. All I want to do is hold him.
16
Julia
I wakeup to a dreary morning, my eyes still heavy with sleep. I glance at my phone, hoping for a message from Sebastian, but just like the past few days, there’s nothing. Our last call feels like a distant memory. And I can’t help but wonder if he has decided to just move on from me to just focus on the grief. Why doesn’t he want to talk to me? I understand his grief and loss, but I feel like he’s angry at me for some reason. Surely it can’t be that he doesn’t care for me, right…? I’m sure we’re on the same page as far as our relationship, but the last few awful days have made me sick with doubt. I try calling him again, but it goes straight to voicemail.
Today is actually the day of the funeral, and I’m torn up inside thinking about what I should do. I want to go, simply to see Sebastian and be there for him if he needs me, but I feel like I’ll be a pariah if I do. No one will know me there, and if Sebastian ignores me, I will be all alone at a terribly tragic, untimely funeral.
But I have to go. There really isn’t a choice if I want him to know how seriously I care for him. I know I need to get ready, but my mind is consumed with worry for Sebastian. Where could he be? Is he okay? The worry that whoever killed his family has managed to hurt him too weighs on me every minute of every day, and the fact that he is radio silent isn’t helping me at all. I force myself out of bed, trying to push the thoughts out of my head.
