Chapter 14
Gianna
Sebastian stays home for a few days, lounging around with me in the penthouse.
I’m not sure if he doesn’t trust me or wants to spend time with me.
When we watch a movie in the theater, he moves past the folder without a word of acknowledgement, and I don’t question him about it.
I miss the ease of our relationship, and I can’t help notice the absence of words once again from Sebastian.
It’s like a lingering doubt that never goes away, no matter how many times I try to convince myself it doesn’t matter.
I shouldn’t want to hear how he feels about me, this is all just compliance in the form of a signed contract.
He usually orders food in or has prepared meals delivered and stored in our fridge.
I had offered to cook, but he shot it down when I wanted to go to the grocery store, and I was unwilling to compromise on getting it delivered.
I prefer to pick out my perishable items myself, not trusting other’s judgments on what they deem good.
I’m just starting to feel cooped up when he shakes me awake early in the morning, asking if I want to eat with him before work. Half of me wants to decline, but I reluctantly get up and change into another hoodie with matching sweatpants.
He brings me to Valois, one of our favorite restaurants when we visited the city during college. I can’t believe it when he turns onto the restaurant’s street to park. I’d figured he would feel like this place is now beneath him as some millionaire hotshot.
“I missed this place.”
Sebastian sighs. “I figured.”
Smiling, I face him. “Still not the biggest fan?”
He shrugs, turning off the car and glancing over at me. “Their pancakes aren’t half bad. I may have come a few times without you.”
“Because you missed me?” The question is out before I can stop it.
God, Gianna. It doesn’t matter. How many times do I need to remind myself before it sticks? It’s a never-ending cycle of desperate need for any affection from a man I ran and hid from. I don’t even want to think about what trauma this behavior must stem from.
His icy eyes flare a bit before the stony mask I’m used to falls into place. “Something like that.”
It’s all he says before exiting the car, and I swallow down the emotion swirling in my throat, because it’s as much of a confession as I’ll ever get. I watch him walk around the car and open my door before I climb out, and now we’re staring at each other, only inches apart.
I wait for him to say something, anything. I’m not going to give him any indication that I’ve thought about him nearly every day we’ve been apart.
Every thought may not have been out of love, perhaps some out of terror, but thoughts nonetheless.
He leads me inside and I inhale, my body melting with the familiar aroma of breakfast. I could never tire of the scent.
“I wonder if your eyes have finally adjusted to the size of your stomach, or if I’ll have to finish your plates like before,” he teases.
I smile, my heart hurting at the reminder as we head to the buffet and grab trays. I load up as much as I can as Sebastian watches amused before hesitantly grabbing things for himself as I keep adding more to mine.
When we sit at our usual table, I swallow and resist the urge to feel under the wood to see if our initials are still there.
“Orange juice or coffee?” he asks.
“Juice. Can you also bring—”
“A cup of water, I know.”
I bite my tongue as he moves without another word.
Butterflies flutter in my stomach at the gesture.
Jeremy and I didn’t go out to eat much, not with my anxiety.
But we ate in enough times for him to know that I liked two drinks with every meal, and yet, he never remembered.
It seemed so unimportant until Sebastian just showed me it wasn’t.
Exhaling a long breath, I put the boyfriend that never was out of my mind and focus on the food. I didn’t realize how hungry I am, especially this early in the morning. He returns, sets our drinks down, and sits across from me.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask, then take a sip of my orange juice. He watches me carefully as I pour syrup on my French toast before handing the bottle to him so he can drown his pancakes.
“You can ask me anything, but you may not like the answer,” he says after a moment.
“Why do you want kids so bad?”
His lips quirk in the corner, and I just know it won’t be a serious answer. “You can’t imagine us having a little Charlotte?”
My heart skips a beat at the name. A long time ago we’d played that game that long-term couples play of what you would name your kids. I wanted Charlotte for a girl so badly. Sebastian wanted a boy named Alexander.
“I can,” I say softly. The back of my eyes sting and I crinkle my nose to stop the urge to cry. “I used to imagine her all the time, but that’s not the point. You could have moved on, found someone else, and had your own Charlotte.”
Sebastian’s jaw tics, and his eyes fall to the sidewalk on the other side of the window we’re sitting against. “I don’t just want kids, Gianna. I want yours. Without you, there is no me.”
I inhale sharply, wiping at the tears that almost fall and then glare at him. “You can’t fucking say that.”
His head snaps to me, anger etched on his face as well. “Excuse me?”
My fingers curl into fists before I unravel them and shake them out. “How dare you say that you are nothing without me when you’re the same fucking man who couldn’t say I love you.”
A menacing laugh rumbles out of his throat before he shakes his head. “Fuck. I would have thought you’d grown out of this nonsense. They’re just words, Gianna. Silly little words.”
“Then say them. If they don’t matter to you, but they matter to me, say them.”
His nostrils flare and his lips thin as he stares at me with fury. Despair claws at my heart, and I clench my teeth. I swallow the ache in my throat and shake my head.
“I won’t do this again. I won’t be the pathetic girl who begs her boyfriend to love her. I’m worth more than this. I’ll count the days until the contract ends and leave you.”
“You can try,” he spits out between his teeth. Sebastian shoves his tray away, staring at me with a dark, possessive anger.
My eyes drop to my own food, a furious smirk pulling at my lips as I stab my french toast and shove a bite into my mouth. I certainly could try, and I wouldn’t fail. This time I would be more proactive in hiding from him.
Sebastian leans back in his chair, watching me as I eat until I finally look back up at him. His eyebrow raises. “Done?”
I glance down at the half-eaten food, and the unforgotten fear of wasting it claws at my insides. There’s more food at his penthouse and I know that.
He clears his throat. “We can bring it with us.”
My eyes catch his. “It’s just french toast.”
His shoulder lifts and falls in a simple gesture. “And you can have the just french toast later if you want.” I watch him as he gets up without another word and grabs boxes to pack it up, giving me the bag with a wink and choice to take it if I want before nodding to head out.
“Don’t think this changes anything. I’m still annoyed with you,” I say, knowing he’s only taking the leftovers home for me.
He smirks, looking down at me as he holds the door open for me to pass through. “I’d never—”
My shoulder is slammed into the rough plaster of the building before I register gunshots ringing out around us.
Sebastian has me pressed against the wall, his arms huddled over my head as my face is squished into his chest. Fear squeezes my heart and claws up in my throat, and I drop the food to grab at his shirt.
There’s a moment of silence before he pulls away, his hands cupping my face to study me with wide eyes.
“You okay?”
I shake my head and he nods, pulling me back into his chest and walking us to his car.
He sets me in the passenger seat, buckling me in before shutting the door and moving to do the same on his side.
When he starts the car, I look at him, assessing if he was hit while sirens start up in the distance.
“Were they shooting at you?” I ask in a small voice.
His head snaps to me briefly before returning to the road. “No. They weren’t even on the same street as us.”
I blow out a breath. “It’s just—the way you pushed me into the wall…”
Sebastian’s jaw grinds back and forth, then he reaches over and squeezes my knee. “I’ll always protect you, Gianna. That includes throwing myself in front of a bullet.”
Tears blur my vision and I grab his hand. “I don’t want that.”
His fingers entwine in mine. “If it comes down to me or you, I’ll always choose to save you.”
A hiccup escapes my throat. “Stop saying that. Just stop.”
I couldn’t bear it. The thought of him getting hurt while protecting me, the thought of living a life without knowing he’s out there, even if he's not next to me.
We don’t speak a word the entire way home from breakfast and I expect him to drop me off, but he follows me into the elevator. Sebastian stares, leaning across from me. The mirrored panels of the elevator make him seem closer than he is.
I glare at him before I finally break.
“Don’t you have work? Leave.”
In a flurry of movement, Sebastian stops the elevator and backs me against the wall. His palms land on either side of my head as my breath catches in my lungs.
“Don’t keep pushing, Gianna.” The deep timbre of his voice crashes through me like lightning. A bright burning that has me dazed, the lingering threat in his words promising something that sends a jolt of arousal between my legs.
“Or what? You’ll hold me captive in your penthouse?”
A smile quirks on his lips. “I enjoy this new side of you, very feisty.”
“Maybe you just never really knew me,” I say, tilting my chin up and steeling my gaze.
Sebastian hums, leaning down to run his nose along my throat. “Perhaps we never knew each other, but yet here we are again. Unable to stay away.”
He kisses under my jaw and my fingers curl onto his shoulder.