Page 46 of Playing For Keeps

“We might not always understand you, but we’ve always loved you. What’s bringing all this on? You’ve never said any of this before.” No, there’d been plenty left unsaid over the years, at home, at work.

Sebastian reached a point where silence carved him down to his last nerve.

“I’ve—I met someone, and it’s been scary. When I left Ohio, it was with a bruised heart and ego. I avoided getting too attached to anyone here because I didn’t want to get hurt or left, or so caught up that I lost myself and what I wanted.” He took a deep breath, trying to verbalize what he’d barely begun to understand. “I’m out of my depth and realizing how much crap I’ve dragged along with me. I’m getting in my own way as a result.”

“Bash, what happened?” His mother’s voice was so kind, gentle and sincere.

“I fucked up. I think I fucked up big time, and I have no idea how to fix it or if I should even try.” He walked over to the couch (inferior to Farren’s and another reminder of his mistake,) sinking down onto the pillows with the phone cradled against his face. They’d always been better at talking about feelings than he was. Perhaps now that would come in handy.

“Tell me about her. I’m assuming it’s ‘her,’ but it would be fine if it wasn't,” she said, and Sebastian huffed out a strangled laugh.

“Yes. Her name is Farren. She’s… bubbly, spontaneous. Kind of my antithesis and at first, I thought that was a bad thing, but now I’m not so sure. I felt gut-punched when she left, and I still can’t catch my breath.” Admitting it out loud seemed to cement his feelings.

He did miss her. A lot. Even the bits that annoyed him. Though not really. He’d been reaching for something—anything—to justify pulling away from her. Giving into his fear.

“She’s really into board games. She’s a substitute teacher, but she’s been developing her own game on the side, and it’s terrific. She just… she was too scared to go for it, and I—well, you know how closed off I can be. I was mean to her. I insulted her because I was hurt and lashing out. I ended up pushing her away in the process.”

“Did you all have a fight?” This time, it was his dad asking, too curious for his own good, not content to let Mom drive the conversation.

“Yeah, a big one. We—uh—we both said some unkind things. I may have said she had no drive and her job was a dead end because she was too scared to do anything with her life. She accused me of being heartless, only focused on work and petty revenge.”

She wasn’t wrong. Even though it rubbed him the wrong way to admit.

“And you haven’t spoken since?” his mom asked.

“No. I haven’t reached out because I was being stubborn. I thought it was better it happened now before things got messier and we got even more hurt. She… it just wasn’t a good fit.” Sebastian closed his eyes, the statement he’d been consoling himself with since she left sounding weaker and weaker the more he said it.

Not a good fit. Not suited. Too different.

“But she hasn’t reached out either. So, it’s over.” The words felt so final spoken out loud, and a hot tear streaked down the side of his face. Sebastian shut his eyes, forcing no others to fall.

“Do you love her? Does she make you happy?” his dad asked, and Sebastian realized this was probably the longest conversation they had in years.

“She made me very happy. I just…”

“Just what? Just don’t know if you love her?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. How do you even know what love is?” It sounded so dumb saying it out loud. His idea of it was so skewed, selfish, and consuming from the example he’d had with his parents. Was that love? The kind to lock everything else out, the kind that could hurt others? It was a weapon in Ashley’s hands. A means to an end, a blindfold to her duplicity. Was that love?

“If all you want is to wake up next to them every morning and hold them while you fall asleep at night. If their voice alone can calm your heart and they make you laugh until your belly hurts. If the thought of losing them makes you feel physically sick and all you want to do is spend time with them… that’s love.”

Well, shit.

His silence must have been confirmation enough for them because his mother giggled, and he pictured her elbowing his dad in the ribs, both sharing a conspiratorial smile.

“I was so stupid. I wounded her, badly. I didn’t tell her how I felt.” That was all he said, not wanting to say those words aloud. Not wanting the first time he said them to be to someone else.

“That’s part of it. It happens. You’ve got to decide just how much she means to you. Are you willing to lose her forever over one fight? Or are you going to go for it and try to make it right?”

He hated when they made sense. Loved and hated that Farren brought them closer, at least in this. It felt… nice. Natural. Like a family.

“What if she doesn’t want me back?” His voice was small, doubt crushing his diaphragm.

He heard his mom tut and wished they were closer because, although he wouldn’t admit it, he could really do with a hug.

“That’s a risk you’ve got to take, kiddo.” His mom hadn’t called him that since he left home, and the throwback was a little emotionally overwhelming.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Mom. Please. Please keep me updated. I know I can get quiet and stuck in my head, but I love you guys, and I do care.” He felt like a little kid, the thought of his parents older, the idea of losing them terrifying despite their distant relationship.

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