Chapter 47 Sebastian
SEBASTIAN
The sound of the guest room door slamming reverberates through the house like a gunshot.
I stand in the hallway for a full second afterward, staring at the door like it might open again if I look hard enough. It doesn’t. The lock clicks—soft, final, like a verdict. Behind me, the silence stretches.
“What the hell did you do now?” Drew’s voice comes from behind me.
I don’t turn around. “I handled a situation,” I say carefully.
Drew snorts. “You always say that right before someone stops speaking to you.”
I drag a hand over my face and finally pivot. Drew’s arms are crossed, eyes alight with the kind of interest normally reserved for live sports and public meltdowns.
“She slammed the guest room door,” he continues. “Not your bedroom. That’s not a neutral choice.”
“I noticed,” I mutter.
He hums. “That’s the ‘you screwed up’ door. The guest room is reserved for emotional exile.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I say.
Drew’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh. We’re starting with lies.”
I glare. “I kept some guy away from her.”
“Was she in danger?”
“She was uncomfortable.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
I exhale sharply. “No.”
Drew nods slowly. “So what you did was not protection. It was a dominance display.”
“Look. We were outside the vet’s clinic and—”
“Outside the veterinary clinic?” Drew scoffs. “That makes it worse.”
I stiffen. “That’s not—”
“What? The point?” My brother scratches the stubble on his chin. “Lemme guess. You went all caveman on a man—”
“It was the same guy who tried to drag her out of a bar when I first met her.”
Drew’s laugh pisses me off even more. “I see what’s happening here.”
“No. No, you don’t.” I pace like a caged animal, feeling claustrophobic inside the four walls of the house. “I kept him away from her. I’d do anything to keep—”
“Oh, wow. You really went all macho man, didn’t you?”
“No.” I give him a withering glance. “I was just keeping her safe.”
“Safe? Was she in actual danger?”
“Asshole, that’s not—”
“Yes, it is,” he cuts me off. “You literally said you’d do anything to keep him away from her.”
“He was antagonizing her.”
“She didn’t ask you to intervene.”
“She moved closer to me.”
Drew grins. “People grab railings during turbulence, Sebastian. Doesn’t mean they want the pilot to punch the sky.”
My mouth opens, then closes.
“That analogy was unnecessary.”
“It was perfect,” Drew says cheerfully. “Also, where was the cat?”
“I handed her the cat carrier. What does that—”
He holds up a hand, shaking his head. “So you’re telling me she held the cat the entire time? That was not a damsel situation. That was a woman trying to keep it together while you squared up like a territorial raccoon.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I was calm,” I insist.
“Oh, I’m sure. Did you threaten him?”
“I warned him away.”
My brother stares at me like I’m insane. “You threatened a man in public.”
“I stated a boundary.”
“You stated an oath.”
Silence settles between us.
I stop pacing and stare at the hallway. The door remains closed.
“I just don’t want her hurt,” I say quietly.
Drew’s tone shifts—lower and steadier. “Then you should stop treating her like something fragile you’ll break if you loosen your grip.”
I look at him sharply.
He doesn’t back down.
“You don’t trust people,” he continues. “I get that. You don’t trust situations. Fine. But you don’t get to decide she’s incapable of navigating them.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to,” he replies. “You acted like she needed managing.”
I swallow.
“She chose you,” Drew adds. “And every time you override her, you’re telling her that choice was a mistake.”
That lands harder than it should.
I cross my arms, my chest tight. “I don’t know how to love someone without guarding them.”
Drew studies me. “Then maybe start by asking her what she needs before you swing.”
I scoff weakly. “I didn’t swing.”
“You metaphorically tackled a guy outside a vet,” he says.
“I’m bad at this,” I admit.
Drew nods. “Yeah. But you’re self-aware bad. That’s upgradeable.”
I glance toward the hallway again. “She won’t talk to me.”
“She will,” Drew says. “Just not tonight.”
“How do you know?”
He shrugs. “She didn’t leave. She just changed rooms.”
That… helps. A little.
“And for the record,” Drew adds, pushing off the counter, “next time you feel the urge to declare lifelong protection vows on the sidewalk—maybe try breathing first.”
I huff out a humorless laugh.
“Also,” he says, heading for the stairs, “you’re cooking dinner. Or better yet, order something for delivery.” He shoots me a warning look over his shoulder. “And you’re not allowed to knock on that door.”
“I wasn’t going to—”
“You absolutely were.”
He disappears upstairs, leaving me alone with the quiet.
The house feels different now. Tense. Shifted.
I stare at the guest room door, knowing better than to approach it.
Control has always been my armor.
But armor is heavy.
And tonight, it cost me more than I expected.