Page 34 of Best Kept Vows

This was my old Sebastian, my husband—the one who made time for all of us no matter how busy he was. He wasn’t perfect, but then neither was I.

We used to have a decent marriage—we kept the peace—and now…I didn’t know what we had. But Sebastian was trying, and since he was, I had to as well. I had to meet him halfway.

Me:Sounds wonderful! What time and where?

CHAPTER 12

Sebastian

As we made our way through the cobblestone streets of downtown Savannah, Lia held onto my arm.

I’d been meaning to bring her to 45 Bistro since I came here with the leadership team at Boone Metals several months ago.

I knew Lia would like the elegant restaurant. It was understated with modern touches, but the high ceilings and crown molding gave the room an airy, almost theatrical feel.

When we stepped in, the rich scent of butter and steak welcomed us, along with a sharply dressed hostess.

“Table for two, under Boone.” I slid an arm around Lia, and she cuddled into me, which was a welcome relief.

“This way, please.” The hostess led us past tables draped in crisp white tablecloths, set with gleaming silverware and delicate stemware, and a sleek mahogany bar where a bartender was mixing drinks.

We walked past couples leaning over their wine glasses,their voices hushed, and a group of friends laughing over plates of fresh seafood and house-made pasta.

The hostess led us to a secluded corner table.

I felt a twinge of nervousness as I pulled out Lia's chair for her.

“Your server will be with you shortly,” the hostess informed us and wished us a good evening.

I worried about how this night would turn out.

I didn’t want to fight.

I wanted peace.

I wanted to go back to a time when we got along, and when not everything was harsh words and rude comebacks.

I wanted my wife and my marriage back.

I had a lot of work to do with Liaandmy children. After the debacle at the Olde Pink House, I’d called Ada, who had been candid in her censure. But she’d also apologized for insinuating I was having an affair—which had been a much-needed reprieve.

Tristan was still standoffish, but he explained that he hated taking sides because our marriage wasourbusiness—but he couldn’t stand how I’d been treating their mother. I had apologized, and, even though, at that time I wasn’t sure how tofixthings with Lia, I had said I would do so.

I didn’t think one dinner was going to somehow fix the issues we faced. I knew we had to talk openly, but not tonight. I wanted respite from work and the tension at home. I wantedmyLia with me. I wanted to have a good meal and take her home and fuck her brains out like I used to.

Our waiter arrived with menus, and I watched as Lia scanned the options. She seemed lost in thought for a moment before looking up at me and smiling shyly. "This place is beautiful. Thank you.”

I nodded in agreement, feeling a warmth spread through me at the sound of her voice. "I'm glad you like it," I replied, trying to keep my tone light. “So, what kind of wine do you feel like?”

Lia looked at the menu and shrugged. “Red. I want steak tonight.”

I browsed the wine menu. “How about a Châteauneuf-du-Pape?”

“Sounds good.”

We spent the next few minutes discussing our meal choices. I loved the way our hands brushed against each other as we did. It was a small gesture, but it felt significant—like we were getting used to one another again.

The sommelier praised my choice, probably because the bottle cost nearly two hundred dollars.

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