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In the late evening, among the quiet garden, I leave my mother to return to Alex and Sebastian. The sun casts a warm glow, bathing the flowers in hues of gold and pink as I walk. It’s beautiful here. I don’t think I’ve appreciated that for a long time.
Approaching the petit salon again, I can hear the quiet buzzing of Sebastian and Alex talking. I’m glad that they waited on me, because I want to share this victory with both of them. They stop talking when I enter, and my words carry across the room as I speak.
“She’s agreed,” I announce, my words punctuating the air with a sense of triumph. “She won’t tell Karl, under any circumstances. We did it.”
Alex, ever the celebrator, wastes no time in requesting that Stuart, the butler, bring a bottle of champagne to mark this momentous occasion. The anticipation in the room grows palpable as we await the arrival of the sparkling liquid.
Sebastian, his eyes filled with gratitude, turns to my brother and expresses his heartfelt appreciation. “Thank you, Alex. You truly are the best brother Julia could have,” he says, his voice brimming with sincerity. “And now I’m honored to call you a friend, too. Soon enough it might even be family, huh?”
Alex chuckles, slinging an arm around Sebastian’s shoulders. “If you’re lucky, man. If you’re lucky.”
But as the room fills with the joyous atmosphere of happiness, I find myself lost in thought, a wave of contemplation washing over me. I watch my brother and the man that I’ve been fighting so hard to keep enjoying the calm that comes after the storm, but my mind isn’t quite settled. My concern doesn’t go unnoticed, and before I know it Sebastian is in front of me. He puts a finger under my chin and lifts my face so my gaze is on his. “Are you okay?”
I take a moment, turning the words over in my brain before I finally speak. “I, um, I was wondering if you ever found out who placed that bomb in your car? I know I don’t have any right to ask you that, but…”
Alex, who must have heard my question, interjects, his disbelief palpable. “Don’t tell me you really think it was Mom who gave the order? I know there isn’t any direct proof that it wasn’t her but…come on, Julia. She’s our mom.”
Sebastian exhales slowly, the shadow of all the pain he’s suffered clear in his expression. “I don’t know who it was, no,” he admits. “And at this point, I don’t even think I want to know anymore. Knowing won’t bring them back, anyway, and revenge just feels so hollow to me now.”
Alex shakes his head. “I still don’t think it was Mom.”
Surprising even myself, I realize that I don’t want to believe that she’s that evil, either. “She does have a motive for it, sure, but let’s not assume the worst. I can’t comprehend the idea of her being so cruel.”
My brother nods a single time. “Agreed. No point in speculating.”
Sebastian’s face is shadowed, and there is an undeniable sadness there from still not knowing who might have killed his family. But his willingness to let it go, so we can move on with our lives, is astounding.
In that moment, when I feel like my heart might explode from affection for this man, Stuart enters the room, carrying the bottle of champagne with graceful precision. Alex eagerly grabs it and expertly pops the cork. The sound of the effervescent bubbles fills the room, a tangible symbol of hope and renewal.
“To you both,” Alex declares, his toast ringing with sincerity. “May these hard times bring our two families closer than ever.” His words resonate within me, a shared sentiment of unity and strength.
“To all of us,” I counter, my heart filled with pride. “None of this would have worked without you too, Alex. Thank you.”
As a trio, we raise our glasses and clink them together, the sound reverberating off of the salon walls. It marks the beginning of a new era, a united front against the challenges that lie ahead, and a testament to the unwavering bond that is forming between the three of us as we speak.
While the champagne flows and laughter fills the air, we toast to the future, embracing the complexities of our past while holding onto the promise of a brighter tomorrow. I keep catching Sebastian’s gaze as we drink, seeing the fire there and the powerful attraction that is so alive between us. It’s hard to comprehend that, soon enough, he may be mine for good.
It can’t come soon enough.
27
Sebastian
The evening issomber as I return home. After the flowing champagne and jubilance that had taken over after we finally received tacit approval from Margaret, my own home estate feels quiet and grim.
I step through the door, and most of the lights in the house are off. I can hear soft sounds coming from deeper inside, and I breathe out slowly, recognizing instantly in what direction they are coming from: my father’s bedroom. My stomach sinks. I haven’t checked on him all day…I’ll never forgive myself if I’ve been out scheming and celebrating if he’s been here suffering the entire time.
The nurse, a constant presence in our lives now, meets me in the hallway, her voice quiet but dripping with concern. “His pulse is low,” she whispers, trying to keep our conversation private. I take a deep breath, mustering the strength to face the truth.
“Is he awake?”
The nurse nods. “He heard you come home. I think he’s been waiting to talk to you.”
“Thank you. Go ahead and take a break. I’ll spend some time with him.”
She retreats, and I continue retracing familiar footsteps that lead me back to my father’s bedside.
Like always, seeing him so weak in the bed makes me feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach. All the air goes out of me, and the sadness it brings seeing him so frail threatens to drown me. I hold it in, though, not wanting him to see how much his appearance disturbs me.
