Roxie
I hadn’t planned on following him outside. Honestly, I’d spent the last twenty minutes convincing myself that pretending he wasn’t there would be the better idea. But then I’d seen him slip through the crowd, shoulders tense beneath his tux, and something begged me to follow him.
Before I knew it, I was excusing myself from Nate, murmuring something about needing air—not that he minded, he was loving being the center of my grandfather’s attention as they talked about real estate—and my heels were clicking against the marble floors toward the French doors.
Now, I called out Sebastian’s name, with no idea what I planned to do next.
The cold air wrapped around me the moment I stepped onto the terrace, goosebumps racing across my skin despite the gauzy wrap draped over my arms. The night smelled of pine and smoke and of him.
He stood a few feet away, the glow of the mansion casting gold across his profile, his jaw sharper than I remembered last seeing it, his hand wrapped around a cigar like a crutch. Smoke curled upward, disappearing into the black sky.
God, he looked … different. Sharper. Like he wasn’t just the happy-go-lucky guy without a care in the world.
There was a weight on his shoulders now that I could see from having to carry some form of responsibility, and part of me wished I knew what it was.
When his eyes met mine, though, the same storm I used to drown in pulled me under all over again.
“Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight,” he said, his voice rougher than usual.
I forced my expression into something that resembled composure, even though my heart was hammering against my ribs.
“Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.”
Silence stretched between us, heavy and loaded, the years pressing in on all sides. He exhaled smoke, slow and measured, and for a moment I let myself remember nights just like this when we’d sneak out here and whisper about the lives we hoped we’d live in the future.
I don’t think either of us ever thought we’d end up here. Again. Together. Especially after the last time we’d seen each other.
“My mother wanted me to be here,” I told him, feeling the most awkward I’d ever felt with him. The distance between us felt like an ocean neither of us was sure how to navigate.
“So, you just did as you were told?” Sebastian asked, brow furrowed like he couldn’t quite believe I’d give in just like that.
“I did,” I told him.
“With Nate.”
The cigar hovered between his fingers, the ember glowing faintly in the dark. He looked restless. Like he wanted to pace, or run down to the waves crashing against the rocky shoreline. And maybe that was what unsettled me most, because I felt the same.
I suddenly felt like I was retracing steps I’d taken as a kid, reliving moments I’d already been in—where both of us remained victims to the lifestyles we were born into, unable to break free.
Inside, the swell of laughter and music pressed against the glass doors, muffled but still faintly there. Out here, it was just us, and the weight of our entire existences until now.
Sebastian was still looking at me expectantly, wanting some sort of explanation of why I was here with his old college friend as my date.
I lifted my chin, forcing myself not to flinch at the hurt I saw in his eyes. “Yes. With Nate.”
The way his jaw tightened told me he didn’t like that answer, but he didn’t press. Not yet. Instead, he dragged on the cigar, the ember burning hotter as his gaze cut through me.
I crossed my arms, more as a shield than for warmth, though the cold had already seeped into my skin. “Don’t look at me like that.”
Without warning, Sebastian shrugged out of his tux jacket and closed the distance between us to drape it around my shoulders. The fabric was still warm from his body, and the scent of his cologne clung to it—dark spice and something sharp that made my pulse do absurd things.
“I don’t need—”
“Roxie,” he sighed, a warning in his eyes telling me this isn’t a topic he will argue on. “Just take it.”
My fingers gripped the lapels, pulling them tighter as his hands brushed down my shoulders, a fleeting touch that sparked through me like electricity. For a moment, neither of us moved to add some space between us. His green eyes locked on mine, and everything else fell completely away.
He leaned in, not enough to close the distance but enough that I could feel his breath against my temple, warm and dangerous. My heart tripped. If I tilted my chin, if he lowered his head just a fraction …
No. Absolutely not.
I tore my gaze away, stepping back so fast his jacket nearly slipped from my shoulders. “This—” I waved between us, frustrated at the way my voice wavered. “This doesn’t work. It never works. We’re no good for each other.”
His body stiffened. “Roxie—”
“You want all this,” I snapped, gesturing to the glowing house, the manicured lawns, the glittering crowd inside. “The glitz, the glam, the name in the society pages. That’s your world, Sebastian. Not mine.”
“That’s not—”
“You don’t get to argue.” My voice cracked on the words, but I didn’t let him see it. I pulled his jacket tighter around me and turned toward the house. “I shouldn’t have come out here. I’m not doing this again. I won’t.”
“Roxie! Wait, please.”
I didn’t. My heels bit into the flagstones as I strode for the doors, his jacket heavy around me like proof of everything I couldn’t afford to feel. I could hear his footsteps behind me, faster than mine, closing the space until his hand caught my wrist.
“Don’t walk away from me.” His voice was laced with desperation.
I spun around, more from instinct than choice, my breath sharp in the cold. “What do you want me to say, Sebastian? That I’m still stupid enough to ever have believed in us? That part of me even wants to throw myself right back into the same fire I barely crawled out of last time?”
His eyes were aflame as he held on fast to my wrist. “I never asked you to crawl out. I’ve made it very clear that I wanted to give us another try, Roxie.”
I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. “That’s the problem. You never ask. You just live in your world and expect me to keep up. You lead and expect me to follow.”
“You think that’s what I want? This is what I want? The tuxes, the parties, the handshakes with people who don’t give a damn about me unless I’ve got my father’s last name stamped across my chest?” He stepped closer, his breath mingling with mine, his green eyes blazing like I’d struck a nerve.
“Don’t act like that’s not who you are, Sebastian.” My laugh was sharp, brittle. “The drinking, the girls, the late nights. That’s all you’ve ever been. That’s what you’ll always choose.”
Hurt flickered in his eyes, but then it turned into determination and anger.
“That’s not me anymore. I haven’t had a drink in over five months, Roxie,” he said, voice low but steady.
The words cut through me like ice water. My throat worked around a lump I couldn’t swallow, but I forced myself to scoff. “So what, you want a medal?”
“I’m not asking for a medal,” he bit out, his grip tightening just enough that I felt his pulse thrumming against my skin. “I’m telling you because I’m trying. I’m not that guy anymore.”
I yanked my wrist free from his grasp, stepping back and shaking my head, a sudden emptiness blooming in my chest when his touch was gone.
“You’ll always be that guy. And I’ll always be the stupid girl who falls for him and gets burned.
I can’t do it again, Sebastian. I won’t. So please, just stay away from me.”
His voice cracked then, raw in a way I hadn’t heard since we were kids.
“I don’t want anyone else, Roxie. I don’t want to lead.
I don’t want to leave, like I did that morning in the Hamptons.
I never meant to upset you. I would follow you anywhere if it meant I got another chance to make things right. Don’t you get that? I want you.”
The truth in his tone nearly undid me. Nearly.
But I’d built too many walls around my heart to let them crumble just because his green eyes looked like they might shatter. I pulled his jacket from around my shoulders and shoved it against his chest, leaving me cold instantly.
“You don’t really want me,” I whispered, my voice breaking even as I refused to meet his gaze. “You just want the version of us we were too stupid and young to realize wasn’t possible.”
Before he could respond, before he could chase me all over again, I turned on my heel and pushed through the glass doors, the swell of laughter and music swallowing me whole. My chest burned, my eyes blurred, but I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t.
Not when I knew if I looked back, I’d never leave at all.
Nate spotted me first when I reentered the main room. Once I was close enough, his easy grin faltered, and concern etched itself onto his face as he leaned in. “Are you okay? You disappeared for a few minutes there.”
I tugged the corners of my mouth into something resembling a smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I’m fine. Just needed some air.”
If he noticed the tremor still in my hands, he didn’t press. Instead, he turned back to my grandfather, who was already mid-story about a new commercial development in Stamford that Nate’s family was helping with.
“Real estate is where the true legacy lies,” my grandfather declared, his voice booming over the low hum of the string quartet and clinking glasses. He gestured at Nate, clearly in his element. “This one gets it. You should see the project he’s overseeing in Manhattan.”
I slipped into the circle reluctantly, the warmth of Sebastian’s jacket still clinging faintly to my skin like a secret I wasn’t ready to admit.
“Roxie, darling,” my grandmother’s lilting voice cut through. She patted my arm, her eyes bright with pride. “Tell your grandfather about your new business with Hallie. It’s marvelous, isn’t it? I’ve been following all the reviews, and I must say, you’ve both really outdone yourselves.”
I swallowed, my smile feeling like the first genuine one of the night. “We’re proud of it. Some of our reviews have been picked up by larger companies and have gained more coverage.”
My grandfather grunted next to me as if our achievements were simply not worth his time. It silenced me faster than a slammed door, nearly transporting me back to that day in his office where he told me my photography would never amount to anything.
He raised his glass in Nate’s direction. “Now this,” he said, nodding approvingly, “this is what building something looks like.”
Nate chuckled politely, clearly uncomfortable under the weight of the compliment but too polite to deflect.
I stood there, smiling as though my chest wasn’t caving in. As though my heart hadn’t just been torn in two. Smiling, because that’s what Kings were expected to do.
But the question was, what did this King want to do?
I watched Nate laugh along with my grandfather, his eyes sparkling with excitement as they talked numbers and neighborhoods. He looked like he belonged here with his relaxed posture, wide smile, and voice that carried just enough charm to make everyone interested in what he had to say. He fit.
And for a split second, I tried to imagine myself fitting in, too.
Imagine that this was my world—the polished laughter, the perfectly groomed lawns, the parties.
Imagine the version of myself that my family always wanted me to be.
Then I spied my brother across the room, looking far more miserable than I’d ever seen him, and realized that the thought suffocated me.
I didn’t want to fit in here. I never had.
Photography and food and reclamation of my art were who I was. The freedom I’d found behind my camera lens, creating something that belonged entirely to me and not my family.
That was real. That was who I was.
Not this.
If I stayed, I’d end up trapped in the same cycle of empty champagne toasts and fake plastic smiles, forever bending myself into someone else’s version of success.
So, I stood in the middle of my family’s mansion, the chandeliers glittering above and the music swelling around me and made myself a silent promise.
I will break free.
No matter how much it hurt. No matter who I had to leave behind.
Because the only thing worse than walking away from everything I’d ever known was staying and losing myself completely.