Chapter Thirty
M aisy drives me back to her apartment in silence. She came when I called her because she’s my sister, but it’s obvious that she’s still wounded by the fact I lied to her too. And I’m still angry that she jeopardized my position as a valentine.
When the car rolls to a stop, I stay in my seat with my eyes shut. My drunkenness has already transitioned into a hangover, leaving my head pounding and my stomach churning. I don’t want to move.
My sister takes off her seat belt. “Let’s get you into bed.”
“Just leave me here to rot,” I grumble.
“You want me to drag you? Because I will.”
I sigh. “What happened to the sweet little sister I remember?”
“I dunno, what happened to the older sister who told me the truth?”
I sigh, unclick my seat belt, and open the car door.
I’m silent as I follow Maisy inside and to the guest room. She opens the door and takes a deep breath. I brace myself for more arguing. We might as well have one of those knock-down-drag-out sisterly fights to top off the night.
Then she whirls around and throws her arms around me in a fierce embrace. I hug her back, chomping down on my suddenly wobbly lower lip and telling myself not to cry.
“Thank you,” she says, her face pressed against my shoulder. “I… I saw what this place costs. I never would’ve been able to afford it without you. And I know you never would’ve been able to afford it without your… without becoming a valentine.” She pulls back and looks up at me, her eyes watering in a way that almost makes my own spill over. “But… please tell me you didn’t do that for me. That you didn’t put up with Sebastian for me and that’s why all of this happened and you couldn’t tell me and—”
I pull her in for another hug, murmuring comfort against her hair to stop the outpouring of panicked words. “No, Maisy, no. Honestly, I…” I swallow, fighting a surge of fresh pain as I think of Sebastian’s dark eyes, his long cold fingers twined with mine. “I did it for the money to support both of us, yes, but there were a lot of things I could’ve done for that. I chose that path because I wanted to. And it was such a roller coaster with Sebastian, but…” My voice trembles. “I… I really, really liked him. I wouldn’t have stayed with him if I didn’t.”
We stay embracing for several seconds. Then she finally pulls back, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“I’m still mad that you didn’t tell me the truth,” she says.
“Well, I’m still mad that you brought up my hot boss-slash-romantic-interest’s dead ex.”
“That’s fair.” She bites her lip. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“Now…” A hint of mischief creeps into her expression. “Can I get some of the juicy details you’ve been withholding?”
I laugh tearily. “Please tell me you have some wine?”
“I don’t think you need any more wine,” she says, giving me a once-over. “But how about some ice cream?”
* * *
We both change into cozy pajamas and spend the night sitting on the couch, sharing cartons of ice cream while I pour out everything I’ve been bottling up for the last few months. I start with the breakup with Declan, which causes her to block his number and social media profiles while swearing profusely. Then I tell her about my training with Benjamin, the Valentine’s Day Ball, my first meeting with Sebastian. I leave Alexander out of it; I’m still confused and anxious about what happened tonight, and the story is complicated enough without him.
Maisy listens with rapt attention. Then I get into arriving at Sebastian’s estate, and the confusing and frustrating push and pull of our relationship, while she sighs and shakes her head and groans.
She still gives plenty of the over-the-top reactions I expect from her. But… she isn’t completely freaking out. I’m beginning to realize she’s grown more than I realized, and she doesn’t need to be taken care of in the way I thought. Which only makes me feel more foolish about hiding everything from her.
Once it’s all out in the open, I slump back on the couch, emotionally drained. I stare at the ceiling and think, again, of Sebastian’s face when I mentioned the blog.
Maisy is quiet for several moments, digging for the last chunks of cookie dough in an ice cream carton. “So… what are you going to do?”
I scrub a hand across my face and sigh. “I don’t know. What can I do? I don’t know if he even wants more, maybe it’s just in my head. Or…”
“Amelia.” She waits until I lift my hand and peek over at her to get the full brunt of her look of disapproval. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Sabotage yourself.” She licks her spoon clean and sets it aside on the coffee table. “If you think this relationship is worth saving, then you have to fight for it.”
It’s a hard truth, but she has a point. Sebastian has been hot and cold with me… but he has his scars from the past, and I get that. And I’m not innocent, either. I put our personal business on the internet for all to see, knowing it would be his worst nightmare. I scrubbed enough details that no one knows it was us, but that’s a fragile excuse. I should have told him either way. I had a perfect opportunity during our talk in the library, but I hid the truth instead.
But I wasn’t the only one. “Still… you heard him. He admitted he killed his previous valentine. Is it stupid of me to even consider being with him after that?”
Maisy frowns. “I don’t know… That was such a long time ago, and it seems strange given everything else you said about him. I have a feeling we don’t have the whole story, and I think you owe it to yourself to get it.”
I smile. “When did you become the mature one?” I should’ve been asking her for advice this whole time, not thinking of her as some fragile thing in need of protection. “I know you’re right, I need to do… something. But I’m not sure what.” I put my ice cream carton down and rub at the bridge of my nose.
“Well, you’re not going to fix it tonight,” Maisy says. “You’re welcome to spend as much time as you need here, obviously. But if you want my advice… don’t let Sebastian slip away. Not without at least trying to make things work.”
* * *
Days pass. I don’t hear from Sebastian. I do get a few texts from Alexander, but I block his number.
Maisy and I spend time together, shopping for apartment decorations and books for the school year. I wander USC’s campus with her and bring her to my favorite local donut shop. As she licks chocolate frosting off her fingers, she declares that she officially forgives me.
So that’s one down. But Maisy is the easy one. She’s my sister, my family. She practically has to forgive me. Sebastian may never find it in himself to do the same.
And God, I miss him. I miss the fragile, tender connection we were finally starting to figure out. I also miss Ellen, and the estate, and my life as a valentine… but mostly, I miss Sebastian. That little quirk to his lips when he’s almost-but-not-quite smiling, his solemn dark eyes, his quiet kindness…
He is also aggravating and distant and difficult. There was so much that was wrong with our relationship. We were so bad at communicating. But still, somewhere along the way, I made the devastating mistake of falling for him. I’ve never been more aware of that than now, when I’m realizing I may never have a chance to say goodbye. I do intend to reach out to him, but I’m carefully considering what I want to say. I don’t have much time left before our contract is up, so I need to do this right.
When I’m not spending time with Maisy, I curl up in bed with my laptop, trying to think about that inevitable conversation, and checking on my blog. The amount of comments and messages I’ve received are mind-boggling. Most of the public comments are begging for an update that I’m not ready to give yet. The personal messages, though, are much more touching. Many of them are from fellow valentines, thanking me for telling my story and offering their own confessions.
I had planned on taking the blog down, but those messages change my mind. I regret airing Sebastian’s private life without his permission… but I can’t regret sharing my own feelings, especially knowing that they resonated with so many people. And when I read through what I wrote again, I’m confident that no one will be able to guess his identity. There are no mentions of his estate’s location, the court he belongs to, or anything that could out him. And judging from the messages I received, feeling like one is competing with a past, long-dead valentine is more common than I would’ve thought.
I don’t know if Sebastian would feel the same when he reads it. If he reads it. Maybe he’ll just judge it based off what my sister said and assume the worst. That thought makes my stomach flip.
I have to clear things up. But will he be willing to listen? I want to give him more time, and space if he needs it…
But we don’t have time. This weekend will mark six months since I became Sebastian’s valentine. That means our contract will be over. If we’re ever going to have a discussion, it needs to be before then.
I think about posting it all on the blog, but I can’t be sure he’s even reading it, and I know he would hate that sort of public gesture. Sebastian is private; he’d want this handled privately. If he’s hurting, he’ll retreat back to the estate. He’s probably holed up in his library right now with the door locked, avoiding everyone.
I’m the one who’s sought him out so many times before. But the other day, he came for me. That was an enormous leap of faith for him. So now it’s my turn. I’ll go to him one more time to see if what we have is worth fixing. One last try, for both of us.