Page 18 of Born Chaos

He and I? We have never been and never will be black and white people. Sebastian said the words to me once.

“This hurt,” I admit. I slowly cross the apartment toward him. Slowly, I raise my hand to caress his cheek. He squeezes his eyes closed again, pressing his own hand against mine. “And you know that people like us don’t forget easily or quickly.”

More tears streak down his face, but he nods, understanding in a way no one else could.

“But neither of us is going to be perfect at this,” I say, my voice evening out. Sebastian’s eyes open to meet mine, hope and uncertainty heavy in them. “I’ve lied to you, and you know it. We’re damaged goods. We’ve both climbed out of the dregs. We’re going to have to deal with shit every now and then.”

The smallest of smiles pulls in the corners of Sebastian’s mouth. He takes in one heavy, deep breath.

I’m a ball of mixed, messy emotions right now. Hurt. Confusion. The drive to run away from everything. But also compassion. Love. Longing.

I lean forward, pressing my lips to his. Light. Hesitant. This kiss does not burst into passion like we normally do. This is the display of trying to move on.

His hands wrap around my waist, holding me gingerly, tenderly. There’s regret and humility in his very touch.

I touch my forehead to his, closing my eyes.

I can’t give him all of it, but I can give him parts of the truth.

“I booked a flight to Kansas because I found out where my mother is buried,” I offer. “Even though I never met the woman, even though I have no memories of her, I think I need some closure. And it’s something I need to do alone.”

Sebastian takes an entire beat. I know he wants to offer to come with me. I know he wants to stay by my side, always. And maybe I should let him if all I was doing was visiting her grave. He’s going to be my husband, the man I spend the rest of my immortal life with. But we’re both broken, and we know this about each other.

“Okay,” he says, and it’s clear, it’s painful for him to concede to it. “I’m sorry I freaked out about it without talking to you.”

“I’m sorry I never brought it up,” I say, even though I’m not sure how sorry I really am. I don’t need anyone’s permission to do anything.

But marriage is about being a team, right?

This is going to be so damn hard. I’ve been on my own for so long. Learning to live life as a team is going to be an adjustment.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian breathes again. He brushes his thumb over my lips, and I open my eyes to meet his once more.

I don’t have anything else to say. This isn’t resolved. When it comes to people like us, things don’t end easy and smooth. So, all I can do is nod and hope tomorrow will be better.

CHAPTERSIX

In the end,Sebastian slept on my couch, and I laid in my bed, mostly staring up at the ceiling all day. I finally drifted off somewhere around three in the afternoon. But at seven, I woke to the sound of kitchen noises.

In a pair of pajamas, I wander out into the living area. Sebastian is just pouring half a mug of coffee into a thermos. He looks up at the sound of my exit. There’s still hesitation there. He still knows he screwed up and that we’re on fragile ice. But there’s still genuine joy at seeing me.

“I’m headed in to work,” he says as he sets the thermos down and walks around the island, leaning against it. “I’m only on a half shift today. How about we go out after? Just me and you? Take it slow, simple?”

And looking up into his face, it hits me in the sweetest way. I have missed him. He’s been working so much lately. We just got engaged. We have so much to talk about and plan. But I miss our small moments. Him making black forest cake for me or just having the time to make out in his penthouse.

“That sounds great,” I say softly as I walk across the kitchen. I place my hands on his hips and lean forward, pressing my lips to his. Gently, he kisses me back. It’s a quiet, tender moment. And it repairs a few holes that have been blown into my soul recently.

“I’ll see you about midnight,” he promises.

“’K,” I say, stepping away and watching him go to the door. He gives me a small smile as he looks over his shoulder and then walks out.

I lean against the door, bracing my hands against it, letting out a slow breath.

This is good. These are small steps back in the right direction.

He screwed up. But I’m definitely going to screw up, and I sure as hell want him to forgive me when I do.

We’ll get there.

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