Chapter 1
Sebastian
Present day…
Hartwood, Maine.
My body snapped awake before my mind could catch up, causing me to sit up and nearly dump my thin, damp blanket on the floor. Sweat caked my forehead, sliding into my eyes as I fought to calm myself down without waking anyone else.
Pressing a palm to my chest, I grabbed my glasses and glanced across the bed.
Rosie was nestled into a portable crib on Cameron’s side of the bed.
Even in his deep slumber, his hand rested protectively on her little chest. I froze as his face creased, but after a moment, he returned to a seemingly peaceful sleep.
Mason had fallen asleep sandwiched between the two of us, but when I looked a little lower to check on her, I noticed a book light illuminating whatever monster smut she’d brought to bed.
Her polychromatic gaze locked with mine in a look that said, You’re supposed to be asleep. I’m sure my face wore a similar expression. But, fortunately for both of us, this was normal.
I gasped and swallowed hard, willing myself to act like I hadn’t just seen her die.
Determined to snatch a good morning from the jaws of my nightmare, I reached over, plucked the book from her hands, marked the page, and turned off the light.
“You need to rest,” I whispered, even though we both knew it wouldn’t make a difference.
Ever since she woke up from her car-accident-induced coma, she’d been waging a war on sleep.
I didn’t have much room to lecture her; I hadn’t had a full night of uninterrupted sleep since the crash either.
But for the last two weeks, her health had been steadily declining.
Nothing obvious enough for the rest of the house to notice, but I saw every twitch, every tremble, every fake smile.
Headaches. Muscle pain. Low-grade fevers. Random bouts of shivering.
And the worst part? She couldn’t eat more than a few bites of anything. No nausea, just a complete deletion of her appetite. She hid it well, probably thinking she was doing us a favor. But I was terrified.
Still, the suggestion of a doctor was off-limits. I'd brought it up once last week, and she shut me down so fast you'd think I accused her of plotting murder.
I pulled the covers up to her shoulder and laid back down, pressing my nose to hers. My skin tingled, as if my atoms were rushing to greet her.
“You okay?” I asked.
Mason blinked slowly, and after a long pause, she whispered, “Do you think my organs are failing?”
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
And kissed her forehead.
It was then I breathed her in and savored the scent of her pomegranate shampoo.
“You know who could tell you that?” I murmured against her skin.
“Don’t say it,” she warned.
“A doctor. Google says you have Lupus.”
But, internet doctors were always prone to wishing the worst on someone with a minor infliction.
Like the time Cameron had a headache and online forums convinced me he was having a stroke.
The emergency room laughed at me that night, but Cameron thought it was sweet I’d gotten so worked up.
Easy for him to say when he wasn’t the one who looked like an idiot.
“What about you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she accused, obviously turning the tides of the conversation.
I was as willing to talk about my nightmares as she was to go to the hospital.
“I need a cigarette,” I mumbled, turning over to grab my pack from the nightstand. “You wanna come with?”
She looked over at her book, then to me, then to the silver and blue cardboard in my hand before agreeing. I climbed out first and helped her up before the two of us snuck toward the front of the house.
The first drops of daylight broke through the sky, casting an orange glow on the world as we stepped out onto the porch.
I hadn’t bothered to check the time, but if I had to guess, it was a little past five.
Sophia and Cameron would be up soon. For now, though, this moment belonged to Mason and I alone.
I flicked the top open and picked a cigarette out before placing it between my lips. She always watched me with the same disgusted look she’d worn when she found out I’d started smoking when I was thirteen. Still, she kissed me regardless, so that meant it couldn’t be too bad.
“I wish you’d quit,” she mumbled, almost to herself.
I cast her a sideways glance as I exhaled; the smoke curling between us. She wasn’t judging me, she never did, not really. She just… cared.
Without a word, I extended it to her.
She hesitated before plucking it from my fingers with a sigh.
Mason had mentioned a few times that she used to smoke when she first moved back to Lyon. Her dad would buy her the packs, insisting they’d help her shed the excess weight she’d picked up in the States.
I nearly rolled my eyes at the memory.
Her habit ended when she shifted from acting to singing, but I had no reason to stop.
She held the filter in front of her lips, and normally this was the point where she would take exactly one puff and hand it back.
It was a strange habit, but it was ours, and that’s what mattered.
Instead, she hesitated before handing it back and mumbling something about not feeling like it.
My brow arched as I took it from her again, the heat of her fingertips still clinging to the paper as I placed it between my lips.
We stood there in silence for a moment, side by side, my arm draped over her shoulders. Together, we watched the sunrise wash pale gold across the edges of the yard. Morning dew clung to the grass, illuminated by the morning glow.
It should have been peaceful.
Instead, I was stuck in the echo of that dream, her white dress, Dale’s rotting smile, the fire.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, barely louder than the breeze.
My fingers tightened around the cigarette.
“Mhm,” I lied.
She had a look in her eye that suggested she was about to press the issue, and I couldn’t let that happen. Before she could open her mouth, I snuffed my cigarette out on the railing and stretched.
“Come on, Mama. The house will be up soon, and we have a routine to keep.”
By the time I finished my shower, the illusion of peace had been completely broken. The house was alive with the chaos that came with five adults, three children, two cats, and a partridge in a pear tree.
Rosie was wailing, probably because someone had dared to sit her down for more than thirty seconds. Juniper insisted that her hair was not wet enough for Lucian to brush yet, while Jasper chased the orange cat with a sock puppet, ignoring Lucian’s warning that he was going to get scratched.
Cameron, somehow, was completely calm at the stove. The air was thick with the smell of bacon and I walked by, kissed him on the cheek, and grabbed a piece off the paper-towel-lined plate. I then made my way to the coffee pot, only stopping to kiss Mason and snag Rosie out of her counter seat.
The infant shrieked with joy before bunching the dark material of my shirt in her slobbery fists.
I hadn’t exactly been fond of Rosemary at first, not with everything else going on at the time of her arrival.
But, the tot had grown on me, and I was her favorite person. At least, that’s what I told myself.
Mason gave me a tired smile before taking a drink of her tea and returning to her stack of lunch boxes.
Pink for Juniper, blue for Jasper, clear for me, black for Lucian. She also made lunch for Cameron and Sophia, but seeing as they both worked from home, she didn’t pack them up. Still, I was sure they got the same, almost obsessive amount of love we got.
Strawberries cut in half and watermelon hearts for Juniper.
Sunbutter sandwiches cut into dinosaurs for Jasper.
Tofu wraps and a stockpile of protein bars for Lucian, he had the same awful habit of forgetting to eat as Mason did, and this was her way of making sure he didn’t pass out.
And mine, in addition to the dairy-free cheese sticks, had a sticky note with a crudely drawn cigarette and the word no beside it.
I huffed out a quiet laugh and put Rosie in her walker, which was surprisingly hard with only one free hand. She immediately began fussing and reaching for me with grabby hands, but I ignored her, taking a bite of my bacon and making myself a cup of coffee.
“Pills, both of you,” Cameron ordered.
In unison, Mason and I let out exasperated groans.
Cameron didn’t even look up from the skillet, instead, he opened the cabinet door. The one beside the stove was too small to be useful for anything other than our medication.
“Groan all you want, they’re good for you,” he said to no one in particular.
Normally, Sophia would grab the pill sorters and hand them to us, but this morning she was mysteriously missing.
I stopped for a moment and looked around as I shoved the rest of my bacon in my mouth.
My brow creased. While her absence was strange, it wasn’t exactly unheard of, so I filled her spot and grabbed our medication from the cabinet.
I shook the containers, enjoying the way the pills rattled against the plastic. Popping the top off of my Thursday slot, I extended it toward Mason.
“Cheers?” I offered.
She rolled her eyes and begrudgingly opened hers. She didn’t like being medicated, and neither did I. But, it helped.
Besides, she should be grateful. All she had was an antidepressant now and birth control later.
I had three or four pills to swallow down.
I wasn’t sure which was which, but if I stopped to think about it, I wouldn’t take them.
Instead, I tipped the sorter back, dumped the contents into my mouth, and swallowed them with a mouthful of coffee.
Mason swallowed hers dry like some sort of fucking psycho.
Mason returned to her task, zipping the lunch boxes before pushing them to the edge of the counter just in time for Lucian to walk in and kiss her.
My eyes shot down to the silver band on his left hand, the one encircled with emeralds.
My stomach twisted, not in jealousy like it used to, but more in a strange sense of longing.
I no longer wanted to marry Mason. We just weren’t like that anymore, perhaps we never were.
Weirdly enough, I had come to view her as a best friend that I fucked and loved with my entire being.
I knew that she and I were meant to be together, but when I pictured my wedding, I didn’t see her walking down the aisle.
Slowly, my gaze shifted toward Cameron. Butterflies erupted in my chest, tickling my heart and making me smile. He didn’t believe in marriage—at least, that’s what he said. But that didn’t stop me from dreaming about giving him my last name.
I covered my mouth to prevent anyone else from seeing my dumb-ass grin as I imagined a world where Cameron would accept my proposal, but my fantasy shattered when my brother opened his stupid fucking mouth.
“What time are you coming to work today?” he asked, plucking a watermelon scrap off the cutting board.
God, whoever taught Lucian to speak owed me an apology.
“Uh, same time as always?” I said slowly, needing to make sure my one and only brother wasn’t having a senior moment.
“Uh, no you’re not?” He snorted around a full mouth of fruit. Juice coated his lower lip, and he wiped it with the back of his hand before swallowing. “Thursdays you have therapy. Why do I have to remind you?”
My stomach dropped to the floor as my lashes fluttered shut.
Oh, yeah. That.