18. CHAPTER 18
SEBASTIAN - SEVEN YEARS AGO
“ S ebastian, you don’t have to cook for me. I have people for that.”
I looked over at the fragile man who’d raised me—the man who took care of me when my father couldn’t be bothered, which unfortunately was most of the time.
“Well, your favourite grandson is doing it. No arguments.” I smiled at him.
“You’re my only grandson.” He chuckled.
“That’s why I’m your favourite.”
“Let me help,” he said, getting up from the chair.
I rushed towards him, taking hold of his arms. He hadn’t been well the last few months. He said it was nothing to worry about, but deep down, I knew he didn’t have long. He was my entire world, the only person who’d shown me any love after my mum died.
“Have you grown? You look taller,” he said, looking up at me.
“Last time I checked, I was still six foot two.”
“I think you’ve grown.”
“Sit down, Granddad. I’m looking after you,” I said, helping him back down.
He slowly lowered his body back into the chair, and I sat next to him.
He leaned over, arching his brow. “What are you making, anyway?”
“Lasagne.”
“Trying to butter me up with my favourite. What have you done?” he asked, suspicion running across his face.
I let out a light laugh. He didn’t know anything that I got up to, and I wouldn’t want him to. I couldn’t bear him being disappointed in me.
I got back up and continued with the cooking.
I’d helped my grandmother cook all the time when I was little.
Every Sunday, we’d make the roast dinner and apple crumble.
She used to tell me off for sneaking into the fridge and pinching bits of the crumble.
I couldn’t help it; there was something special about her crumble.
It felt like warmth, a home wrapped up in it. Something I couldn’t get enough of.
“Have you met a nice girl yet? I was married to your grandmother at your age.”
“I’m nineteen. People don’t get married at our age anymore.”
“That’s why relationships no longer last. Don’t be like your father. One day, you’ll meet someone special, and you need to do everything to keep her.”
“You’ll be the first to know if I ever find someone,” I lied.
He wouldn’t be the first, because he wouldn’t be here to see it. A sick feeling rose in my stomach, forcing its way through my body at the thought.
Not that there would be anything to see.
“How’s your friend? What’s his name? Jayden?”
“Hayden.”
“Ah, yes. He seems like a good lad. He grounds you.”
I turned to face him, smiling. “He’ll be over later to raid your rum.”
He chuckled. “Well, I won’t have much use for it.”
I paused, pressing my lips together. That sick feeling returned to my stomach as I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. I could feel my throat getting dry, trying to close up, so I swallowed hard a few times to push it back down.
“Don’t say that, Granddad,” I said, trying not to choke on my words.
“Come, sit with me for a minute.”
I took a deep breath, wiping my eyes so he wouldn’t see anything, then sat next to him.
He turned slightly to face me, taking my hand.
“I know you don’t want it, but promise me you won’t let your father ruin the business.”
He was right; I didn’t want it. I never wanted to run the company or be part of it.
It was my dad who’d forced me into it—sent me to private school, chose my university degree, all to groom me into the company I had no interest in.
Yet after all of that, he was still adamant I’d never be a good CEO.
That I was just a disappointment to him.
“Your great-granddad built that company from scratch. He wanted more than just money to pass down the family. He wanted something to be proud of. If there’s one thing I ask of you, please keep it something to be proud of. Promise me.”
I let out a deep breath. This man meant everything to me. He showed up when my dad didn’t. He was there when I needed him and looked after me. He didn’t have to, but he was a good man.
“I promise.”