Page 52 of The Moon & His Tides
“I am.”
“I haven’t brushed my teeth.”
I chuckled. “Nor have I. Relax for a while, drift off even. If you wake in the night, feel free to go back to the carriage house. But for now, sleep with us?”
I could feel his hesitation, and I thought I understood it. We didn’t usually let the men sleep in our bed, but there was something about Sebastian. Warmth on a chilly evening, perhaps, warmth in our chilly marriage, that drew us both inexorably toward him.
In some kind of answer to the unspoken question of what the bloody hell was happening between us all, I reached above Savannah’s head to find where I thought I rememberedSebastian’s hand rested on the pillow. His fingers flinched at first contact and then slowly curled around my own.
“Sleep, Sebastian,” I murmured, giving in to my suddenly leaden lids closing. “Only the moon is watching, and we can trust it to keep our secrets tonight.”
14
SEBASTIAN
The next month was absolute chaos.
Adam was preparing for the lead in a Patrick Sullivan movie about a British gangster in the 1970s. The first table read was at the end of the month, so he had me run lines with him almost every day. It was fascinating to watch him learn a character, to witness, as the days passed, the way he sank further and further into the role until the day before the read-through dawned, and he was suddenly Freddie Bannerman, the scarred and angry ex-con who unexpectedly found himself king of a drug empire in London.
While he was busy with preparations and promotion for his upcoming film release,The Devil Cares, I spent most of my time either with Savannah, driving her to and from appointments, stopping for lunches around town or going shopping, sometimes, entirely for me so she could dress me up like a real-life doll. She was surprisingly fun when she let her guard down, laughing at my quips and teasing me for my silliness. She seemed so much younger than her thirty-four years when she was with me.
Thirty-four years old. She’d coyly refused to tell me how old she was for so long that I’d finally capitulated and looked it up myself.
Adam was twenty-eight.
They were both so much older than me, successful and wealthy and wise in so many ways I was decidedlynot. It should have felt too much like a power imbalance, like I was nothing compared to them, with nothing to offer.
But, shockingly, I seemed to offer them a lot.
I made Savannah laugh and relax when she was usually focused to a point that made her icy and rigid as frozen stone. I made Adam gentle, the powerful facade he erected for everyone softening a bit for me. They both sought me out when they had time and seemed almost… jealous when the other had more of me. It wasn’t a poisonous sentiment but more of a childlike one. They both wanted my time individually and together.
Unfortunately, we didn’t have much of the latter.
I wasn’t sure how Savannah and Adam even had a functioning marriage, thanks to their schedules. They barely saw each other except for public outings and late at night, when the three of us would fall into bed together.
And that happened almost every night when they were both at home, but never if one was away. It wasn’t said explicitly, but I soon learned the rules of the Meyers’s household.
I could kiss either of them whenever the mood arose, but beyond that, except for that first night I’d moved in out in the garden, we weren’t to take it any further without the third person to bear witness.
Yet there also seemed to be a kind of rigidity to our nights together. It was always about Savannah, and the tension made me wonder if it was by mutual design or because she refused to let the attention wander away from her for even a moment. I was growing to know Savvy well enough to surmise it wasprobably some of the latter. She liked to feel powerful, the mover and shaker. Even though she wasn’t the one with the Oscar, she had flex and influence in the movie industry in Britain, and it was obvious she enjoyed when people came calling for a favour or opinion on their work. Even when Adam received praise, she smiled coyly, a little curl of her lips that spoke of pride and a hint of arrogance.
It’s all because of me, that look seemed to say.
And I was learning that a lot of it was because of her.
But not all of it.
Just as not all of my attraction in this dynamic was toward Savannah alone.
I just hadn’t had any opportunity to explore it otherwise.
Unsurprisingly, I also had to be available at all times.
Once, I was speaking with Cosima over the phone, so I hadn’t noticed the incoming calls and texts for almost an hour. When I checked, Savvy had tried to reach me ten times, and when I finally called her back, she told me not to bother.
She didn’t speak to me for three days.
I didn’t take it too personally even though it hurt. These people operated differently than me. If I was fire, Savannah and Adam were ice. They punished with silence and distance, not shouting and tears the way my family did at home.
