CHAPTER 26
SEBASTIAN
The evening with Remi’s family is so warm and easy going, it’s almost surreal to think I’ve only known them for two days.
What unsettles me most, though, is that even though I can’t wait to be alone with Remi again, the thought of leaving these people already tugs at something deep inside me, something I didn’t even realize was there.
As furious as I am with my own parents, I’m also clear-headed enough to see that their reaction to my coming out was just the final straw.
The real issue runs much deeper. The truth is, I’ve never known what it feels like to be loved simply, openly, and unconditionally, the way Emma offers her affection, not just to her children, but to anyone lucky enough to fall within her orbit.
That realization stings. But strangely, it also comforts me.
Because even though Remi lost his father far too soon, he still grew up in a home where love wasn’t withheld or rationed.
Where warmth wasn’t something you had to earn.
And knowing that, knowing he was nurtured by that kind of love, makes me feel hopeful.
Safe, even. Like I’m not doomed to repeat the coldness I grew up with.
Like maybe, being with Remi, I can finally learn what real love is supposed to feel like.
I suppose my parents think they love me.
And until recently, I believed it too, at least in part.
But now... I’m not so sure. When it comes to my mother, I’m beginning to wonder if she’s even capable of sincere, selfless affection.
Maybe there’s still hope for my father, if only he weren’t so hopelessly entangled in Isabel’s grip.
No. Enough of that. I’ll deal with it later. Tonight, I just want to be here, fully present, and savour every second of this evening.
The restaurant Remi has chosen is a typical coastal pub with a nautical theme, charming and relaxed like the Blackbird, but with the added bonus of a terrace overlooking the entire bay.
It’s the kind of place that invites laughter and unhurried conversation, where you can hear the sea in the background and feel the breeze on your skin.
The food looks incredible.
Trusting Remi’s recommendation, I start with a crab cake and follow it with the seafood platter.
Every bite is divine, fresh, delicately seasoned, and beautifully plated.
It’s made even better by the bottle of Pinot Meunier that Ben selects with quiet confidence after a thoughtful perusal of the wine list.
It’s all so effortless, so different from the stiff, orchestrated dinners I grew up with.
Thanks to the wine and the relaxed atmosphere, Emma’s partner starts to open up, revealing a much more outgoing side than I’d expected.
He and Remi’s mum trade stories about funny mishaps at the clinic, teasing each other with a kind of warmth and familiarity that makes me wonder why they still live in separate houses after all these years together. They fit so effortlessly.
Even Maude, now that the ice has thawed between us, seems completely at ease.
She’s no longer wary or withdrawn, at least not with me.
She still avoids direct eye contact, but when she speaks about her work, with such precision and quiet passion, I realize it’s the truest, most natural way to connect with her.
Everything about the way she expresses herself, her thought process, her focus, and her command of detail speaks of someone deeply intelligent and observant. The more I listen, the more my respect for her grows.
Under the table, Remi runs his fingers lightly along my leg.
It’s not flirtatious or suggestive, just a gentle, grounding touch.
A way of saying: I’m here. I see you. I’m happy.
And I know exactly how he feels, because I feel it too.
If there’s a glow between us tonight, I couldn’t tell you who’s shining brighter.
As dinner winds down, I excuse myself under the pretext of going to the loo and quietly slip over to settle the bill. Not just because it feels like the polite thing to do, after everything they’ve given me, but because it genuinely brings me joy to offer something in return.
It’s a small gesture, nothing compared to the warmth, kindness, and acceptance I’ve received over the past few days, but it feels like a start.
I hope, more than anything, that one day I’ll get the chance to welcome all of them to one of my concerts.
Especially Maude. I have a feeling she’d appreciate the music more deeply than she’d ever admit.
When the Elliotts realize the bill’s already been taken care of, they protest in unison, loudly, firmly, but I stand my ground with a smile.
Eventually, they give in, though not without a few theatrical sighs and grumbles.
As a compromise, they insist on treating us to ice cream instead.
Which gives us the perfect excuse for a slow, meandering walk through the village and along the seafront, bathed in moonlight.
Back at the house, Ben says his goodbyes and heads back to the farm. The Elliott women retreat to their rooms, though not before Emma gives both Remi and me a warm hug and a kiss goodnight, thanking us again for a lovely evening.
At last, we’re alone.
And despite the long, sun-drenched day, Remi and I are aching to be close again.
We strip off our clothes in hushed laughter, trying to stay quiet, though neither of us is particularly good at it.
Then we tumble into bed, limbs tangled, skin on skin, greedy for each other, lost in that familiar need to blur every last boundary between us.
It’s not just desire. It’s something deeper. Something that keeps pulling us back together, like gravity.
And yet, despite the urgency pulsing between us, we make love slowly. Tenderly. With a depth of emotion we’ve never quite touched before.
There’s no rush, just the quiet certainty that we belong to each other, here and now. We lose ourselves in it completely, exploring every kiss, every shiver, every sigh, until time no longer seems to matter.
In each other, we find a kind of wholeness neither of us knew we were missing. We move together in perfect rhythm, caught between soft laughter and breathless moans, until we’re spent, drenched in warmth and trembling pleasure.
By the time we finally collapse, tangled in sheets and each other, the sky outside is beginning to lighten. The first pale blush of dawn filters through the shutters, casting faint golden stripes across our skin.