Page 15 of Best Kept Vows

I curled beneath the covers, exhaustion crashing over me. I lay awake in the dark, silent, rigid with resentment.

When Sebastian came into the room, I pretended to be asleep, my breath long and even, which wasn’t difficult since I was very tired.

I heard him in the bathroom, and the time he spent there felt like a reprieve. But when the mattress dipped beside me, and after a moment, I felt his hand brush gently over my hip, squeeze, the reprieve was over.

I wore a pair of sleep shorts and a loose T-shirt to bed while Sebastian slept naked. I got too cold to do that. I felt his touch burn through my clothes in more ways than one.

It had been so long since he showed any care that my eyes pricked with tears, but the fact that he wanted to paper over our problems with sex crushed me.

Sex was fun between us, at least it used to be. We used to enjoy it so much. We tried everything. I had never felt shy with him, but I suddenly did now—no, not shy, butuncomfortable, like he was a new lover, a one-night stand I’d picked up.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he whispered, his lips now close to my ear, featherlight and caressing.

What exactly are you sorry about?I wanted to ask, but I was pretending to be asleep, so I stayed still and kept my breathing slow and even.

After a while, Sebastian clued in that I was out for the count. He kissed my cheek. “Goodnight, baby. I love you.”

My heart twisted painfully at his words.

Sebastian sighed heavily, then rolled onto his back, his withdrawal as loud as his anger had been earlier.

We lay side by side, inches apart, yet worlds away.

CHAPTER 6

Sebastian

Ileft home early the following day.

I had a meeting, but I also didn’t want to be around when Lia woke up. I knew she wasn’t sleeping last night when I tried to initiate sex. I wanted her—wanted to somehow seal the breach between us, but she didn’t want me. I couldn’t blame her for that. So many nights, she reached out to me, and I told her I was tired. I didn’t think I could get it up, especially the first year when I took over Boone Metals.

After I rejected her advances several times, she stopped making them.

Now, I stood on the other side of a chasm, which was of my making. Sure, I could bark at Lia for not being supportive enough—but I knew my wife, knew what she’d done for me, knew that I shouldered the blame for what was broken between us.

I wanted to fix it—fix us—I really did. But I just didn’thave the emotional bandwidth. That truth settled over me again as I stepped out of my accountant’s office on Bull Street, the heart of downtown Savannah, standing witness with its usual, unbothered charm.

The company was bleeding money, but thankfully, Lia and I had investments that were still performing well. I’d made good money during my years as a business consultant, and we lived comfortably, luxuriously, even, among Savannah’s social elite. But let’s be honest, that access wasn’t about wealth. It was because my last name was Boone. Without it, I doubted I’d get a second glance—certainly not as just Sebastian Somebody, Business Consultant.

The family wealth was locked in the company and the estate.

I’d inherit once my parents were gone (if anything was left)—but that wasn’t going to pay our bills today. Based on our financial situation, I knew I could step away and never work again, and we’d be fine—Lia and I and the kids.

I could do that. It was a luxury, a privilege to be able to say such a thing—but we had that. So, why was I killing myself and destroying my marriage? I ran a hand through my hair. I knew why. It was the family legacy. I couldn’t let it go away. Boone Metals had been in existence for nearly a hundred and thirty years—it wasn’t going to get fucked during my watch.

I walked past Gallery Espresso on Bull, and decided to get a cup of coffee at Savannah’s oldest coffee shop. The café’s inviting atmosphere, filled with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of patrons,provided a brief respite from my thoughts. I ordered a black coffee and took it to sit outside at one of the tables—giving myself a moment to breathe before I went back to the office where I’d have to immediately go into fire-fighting mode.

Damn it all to hell! I wasn’t catching a break, not at home and not at work.

I shrugged out of my suit jacket and hung it on the back of my chair. I hadn’t worn a tie—it was too fucking hot for that. It was just nine in the morning, and it was already sticky.

I was born and raised in Savannah, and even though I spent four years in New York when I went to college, I knew I’d come back. I’d told Lia that when we first met. I smiled as the memory came back. God, but we were young and so in love. She was full of energy and life—sassy, gorgeous, perfect. She was still many of those things, but not full of sass and life, I thought with regret.

When we moved to Savannah, it had been about fitting in, and I’d suggested Lia work for Boone Foundation, the company’s charitable arm that my mother and sister took care of.

Lia didn’t get along well with my mother and sister, and when she got pregnant, she told me she wanted to be a stay-at-home mom and couldn’t do the foundation work. I knew it wasn’t because Lia couldn’t do it; she didn’t want to. My mother complained, but I stood by my wife. I used to work at Boone Metals then, for my father.

Those days, I came home from work and spent time with Lia and Tristan. When Ada came along, I was thrilled,we were close as a family, going away on vacations and taking drives on long weekends.

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