Chapter 16 Sebastian #2
Sure did paint a bad picture of Ashley when she framed it like that.
“We were young. It was a lot of pressure. And yeah, it was shitty. But she didn’t want the life I was headed into.
Honestly, it was my bad. I had talked about taking Lizzie after I graduated, and Ashley always changed the subject or made a comment suggesting that might not be the best idea.
It’s not like she completely blindsided me.
I knew she didn’t want kids. I respected her decision to go on with her own life and let me go on with mine. ”
Gwen made a tsk sound. “You’re a better man than me.”
Not really. Ashley and I had been college sweethearts, but not much else. It never would’ve lasted, and it was for the best that it hadn’t. If we had met at a different time, I would’ve recognized that too. We’d only lasted as long as we did because my grief for my sister had been so fresh.
To Ashley, I was a fun way to pass the time. To me, she was a distraction from the worst pain I’d ever felt.
“We were together for a couple years, but it was never that serious.” I shrugged. “And it’s ancient history now. Lizzie was three when that went down.”
“Fair enough.” Gwen raised a hand in surrender. “So Ashley wasn’t the one who got away, huh?”
“I don’t believe in that.” I rolled my neck from left to right, more annoyed than I had been about our lack of reservation at the hibachi restaurant. “People say that when they’re unhappy in their current relationship or they fumbled a good one.”
Nodding, she wagged a finger. “I like the way you think, Mr. Everett.”
Interesting. She knew my last name. Had she googled me?
“Agree or disagree with the way I think?”
“Agree,” she said. “That sort of philosophy, ‘the one that got away,’ reeks of ‘peaked in high school.’”
The laugh I let out further fogged the window behind her. “So I’ve told you about my parents. What are yours like? Or were?”
“Were, yeah.” Gwen wet her lips, then clicked her tongue. “I don’t know my dad. Never have. But my mom was great. Aside from the crack.”
“That checks out.” When Gwen chuckled, I took a small sip from the soda that sat between us, mindful to leave enough for her. “How did she pass?”
“Also a car accident,” she said. “Luckily, I wasn’t in the same position you were in. She died at the scene. Probably easier than watching someone you love waste away in a hospital bed.”
So many times growing up, I had prayed for that night to happen.
I would fantasize about my dad speeding on an icy backroad, or on one of his many business trips to the beach, and his car flipping over a guardrail.
I wished I felt sorry for that, but my only sorrow was that my mom had been in the car with him.
She hadn’t been a great mom. My big sister had given me most of the affection I’d gotten growing up. The meals I ate were from a maid. The only adult that had ever come to any of my talent shows or school competitions was Rhiannon.
My mom never stood up to him. She never protected us. She allowed him to make all our lives a living hell.
Older now, with a better understanding of how those dynamics worked, I had more empathy for her than I used to. Doubted I would ever completely forgive her, but I would’ve never wished her ill.
Yet, she’d been the first one to die in the hospital.
“I don’t think it’s ever easy to lose someone,” I said. Even if my dad’s death had brought me peace. “Sarah’s death was a lot harder on me. With my parents, at least I got to say goodbye. I didn’t get that with Sarah.”
Gwen studied me for a moment, mouth ajar. Like she was debating asking the question.
What happened to her?
Relief loosened my shoulders when she said instead, “Yeah, I get that. I bet it was hard having to plan their funerals on your own too. You don’t have any other family around, do you?”
“Distant cousins, but no one nearby. The funerals were mostly planned in the wills anyway. I just had to sign off on some documents.” I stretched an arm overhead and hooked it at the back of my neck. “What about you? Was anyone around to help you with your mom’s?”
“We didn’t have an actual funeral,” Gwen said. “She always wanted to be buried, but it cost too much. My savings would only cover cremation. A friend of hers had a nice house though. She let us hold the wake there.”
My heart ached, and guilt turned my stomach. “Weren’t you with your ex then? He wouldn’t chip in for your mom’s funeral?”
“He did. I only had a couple grand in savings, and it was three for the cremation.” Ever so slightly, she squinted. “Would’ve been closer to fifteen for the formal ceremony and burial.”
“Oh. Right.” I nodded, hoping that didn’t come off as rude. “That makes sense.”
Another heartbeat of silence passed. Maybe more than a heartbeat, because now all the windows were foggy, and I couldn’t see the snow falling behind Gwen anymore. I did see her cock her head to the side, eyes like that of a hawk.
I was just about to change the subject, to say that was enough about grief and trauma for the night.
But Gwen cut in with, “You’ve got money, don’t you?”
My stomach ached. “What?”
“Your parents arranged their funerals in advance. They had wills and the whole nine.”
“Lots of everyday people have wills.”
“Middle-class people are also one hospital stay away from bankruptcy, and somehow, you survived two.” Still squinting, her jaw dropped all the way into her lap. “Holy shit. It’s you. You’re the donor. You’re the billionaire donor who funded the ranch.”
Damn it. “Look, I don’t—”
“Don’t lie to me. The ranch grew from a couple cabins to a city about ten years ago.
That’s when Rhiannon got the donation. That’s when your parents died.
You went to some good school in California.
You raised Lizzie while you were in college, presumably without much income.
” Her grin stretched almost up to her eyes.
She’d figured it out. “Rhiannon told me you wanted to stay anonymous, so your secret’s safe with me.
But that’s crazy. I would’ve never thought that you had money.
Not driving this clunker around.” She tapped her hand against the dashboard.
I almost defended my twenty-year-old truck but decided against it. “I’m not rich.”
“Clearly. You gave your inheritance to Rhiannon.”
“Most of it.” A fund that could only be accessed for college had paid for all my tuitions.
Some of it sat in an emergency fund on the insistence of a financial advisor.
Which I agreed wasn’t too bad of an idea.
“Lizzie has about ten million waiting for her when she’s twenty-five.
Obviously, she can use it for college before then.
And reasonable housing. I still felt like that was too much but given what my parents were worth, and how much of that would’ve gone to my sister, then to Lizzie, it seemed like the right thing to do.
I have the feeling she’ll be donating a lot of it when she’s twenty-five, too.
Just didn’t want to leave her without the option. ”
“Ten million.” Gwen let out the words in a near whisper. “Damn. I mean, you don’t have to justify how you spent it, but—”
“I do.” Trailing my fingers through my beard, I searched for the words.
“That kind of money. Billions of dollars… No one needs it. No one can spend it in a lifetime. They just hoard it. That’s what my parents did, and their parents before them, and so on.
They used that money to exploit people and hurt people, and I didn’t want any part of it. The things I have, I like to earn.”
Doe-eyed, I almost thought I saw a tear trickle over. “I get that,” Gwen said, “and I agree, but you didn’t have to, and you still chose to do an amazing thing. You saved so many people’s lives with that money. On behalf of everyone, thank—”
I held up my hand. “Don’t thank me. Please.
It wasn’t my money. And even if it had been, it was blood money.
My however-many-greats grandpa was already rich when he came over here on the boat.
He took advantage of so many people to get it.
With money like that, you have the power to make real change in the world.
All any of the men in my family ever did with it was hurt.
Money was their weapon. I just had to do what they all should’ve done.
Get the hell rid of it. But like I said, I didn’t donate every penny, it paid for my college, and I don’t pay a mortgage on my house. So please, don’t thank me, Gwen.”
She didn’t.
She reached across the center console, grabbed my cheeks in both hands, and tugged me in. Our lips met, and the world stopped spinning.
I had wondered what this would feel like since the moment we’d met, but no fantasy did it justice.
Her lips were as soft as flower petals, and the gloss over top of them, the taste of watermelon.
We’d never been so close before. It was the first time I got to fully appreciate her perfume, like honey and sugar.
My fingers started in those soft red curls and traveled to that beautiful curve in her waist. I had always wondered how it would feel to slide my hands across it, to feel the heat of her body against mine, and there were no words for it.
There was a desperate need in me to pull her closer, to shelter her frame with my own. To never let her go.
Never had I kissed someone and felt all of this. The pathetic ache to stay within this moment where we were together, where we were safe, for the rest of my life.
Inching back, resting her forehead on mine, she breathed hard. “Was that okay?”
I pulled her back in.