Page 15 of Finally Forever
I roll over and reach for Sebastian. It was dark when I went to bed last night. I didn’t want to wake him, so I tiptoed in and slipped under the covers in the near-black bedroom, hoping not to disturb him. I wanted to apologize for getting angry. I know he means well. I know all this, but my emotions got the better of me.
I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to this lifestyle. Then I was forced into it and believed he was dead. When I learned he was alive, I was already in custody in Scotland. My life was set with or without him, but then I was blessed to have him in my life again. My heart wept with joy. It took me weeks to accept he was really here and not a figment of my imagination. I wouldn’t trade a single day before that time or that led up to that time because it gave me him.
I know he would do anything for me, anything within his power. I also know last night killed him to tell me no. He thinks I don’t understand what could happen to us if his family learns he’s alive. I do. The scars on his body and the stories he’s shared are horrific. I just forgot for a moment. Sleep can change emotions and perception. This morning, I wake up grateful for all I have. For all he’s given me, and for our future together.
His side of the bed is flat and made. Huh?
I press the button on the nightstand that opens the blackout curtains. Morning light filters in through the sheers. “Sebastian?” I peer around the room in search of him.
He’s never not slept in the bed with me. This isn’t normal.
I spring from the bed in one of his T-shirts and snatch my silk robe, pulling it on and securing the belt as I search the house for him.
“Sebastian?” Panic builds in my veins. What if my interaction with Lowell already caused problems? “Sebastian?” I enter the great room and find him slumped on the couch.
A glass lies on its side near Sebastian’s hand, the fabric stained with red wine.
“Sebastian?” I set the glass on the coffee table and look at his face.
His features are relaxed, like he’s resting peacefully. “Sebastian?” I caress his cheek. “Baby, wake up. You fell asleep on the couch. Let’s get you to bed.”
His chest moves with slow, even breaths. That’s good. He must have had too much to drink, although he’s never done that since I’ve known him. If there’s one thing this man knows, it’s control.
“Sebastian?” I say louder.
Nothing.
“Sebastian!” I pat his cheek for him to wake up.
Still nothing.
Oh God!My heart hammers to a wild beat. “Sebastian!” I shove his chest, trying to jar him awake. “Sebastian. Wake up!”
He doesn’t move at all. His expression doesn’t even change.
What’s wrong? I want to get Xavier, but I don’t want to leave Sebastian. “Help!” I yell, praying Xavier hears me. His room is upstairs. I doubt he will. “Help! Someone help!”
Where’s my phone? I glance around, remembering it’s in the bedroom.
I feel for Sebastian’s phone in his pocket. There. I dig it out and enter his passcode, then I dial France’s emergency number.
An operator picks up. I ask if she speaks English in French, one of the few things I’ve learned to say well. She does, and I tell her what’s happening.
Soon, Xavier is in the room. He runs over and checks Sebastian’s pulse, as I frantically speak to the emergency operator, talking so quickly she has a hard time understanding me.
Xavier takes the phone and speaks in French to the operator. He’s much calmer than I am. He lays Sebastian on his back and elevates his feet on the arms of the couch.
I hate that I don’t understand what Xavier is saying or what is happening to Sebastian. I stroke his hair and whisper in his ear, “Wake up. Please, wake up.”
“He’s going to be okay,” Xavier says to me.
“How? He won’t wake up.”
“His pulse is good, and he’s breathing. Help is on the way. Try to remain calm.”
I want to scream and slap the shit out of Sebastian. Terror races through my veins.I can’t lose him again. I can’t.I don’t know if I’m chanting this in my head or aloud.
Minutes pass. It feels like hours. Xavier remains on the phone with the operator until emergency services arrive.
