Say the Word(79)

“We might never be friends again,” Sebastian acknowledged. “But there’s no reason to be at war. Plus, I can’t imagine Jamie was pleased to hear that we’re acting like enemies.”

I stilled. The air caught in my lungs as Sebastian talked on.

“Actually, knowing him, he’s placed bets on who’ll come out victorious. God, if you’ve told him about any of this, he probably thinks I’m a real * now, doesn’t he?” Sebastian shook his head, a small smile on his lips — one of the first I’d seen from him since our unexpected reunion. “Oh, well. Tell him I said hello and if he’s up for it, I’d love to grab a beer sometime.”

Sebastian looked up at me, that little grin still playing out on his lips, and finally seemed to notice my silence. His smile faltered a bit and something changed in his eyes.

“He’s here in the city, right?” he asked. “I can’t imagine you two would ever live very far apart.”

I took a deep breath, my chest aching with the effort, and felt my eyes well up with tears.

“Lux?” Sebastian asked, finally using my name. Hearing it from his lips only pushed me closer to the edge. “How’s he doing?”

A single tear fell down my cheek as I struggled to find the words. My lips parted but, looking at Sebastian as the hope slipped from his expression, I found I couldn’t speak at all. It didn’t matter, though — my strangled silence said everything he needed to hear.

The realization came swiftly for him, an arrow straight to the heart, and with it a total change in his demeanor. His forehead furrowed in shock and his mouth pressed firmly into the frown I’d come to know so well, but it was his eyes that changed the most. The soft look faded away, replaced by two chips of greenish brown ice that glared at me with every ounce of dislike he could muster.

“When?” He bit out the word like a curse. Another tear tracked down my face.

“Three years ago.” My voice cracked.

He stared at me, a dark look clouding his expression. “Three years.” His laugh rang out in the empty office and I flinched at the bitter, mirthless sound. “How could you not tell me? He was my friend, too. I should’ve been there. I had a f*cking right to be there, Lux.”

He advanced on me and I felt my shoulders hunch involuntarily. Curling in on myself was my only defense — there were no words I could offer him to ease the pain of this loss, of this betrayal. Keeping him from Jamie, though I’d certainly had my reasons, was both the worst and the hardest thing I’d ever done. The regret of it still kept me up at night, an unwanted bedfellow that haunted my thoughts and stalked my memories.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. There was nothing else I could say.

“You’re sorry.” Sebastian leaned into my space, fury radiating from him like a physical forcefield. “That’s just perfect. That makes it all okay.”

My tears dripped faster, spurred by his stinging words and the sharp pain I felt inside. I’d struck a deal, and this was the price, I reminded myself. Choices had consequences. I thought I’d mastered that lesson seven years ago, but it seemed I still had some learning to do.

“You nearly had me fooled a second time.” Sebastian’s voice dripped with disbelief and his eyes flashed with outrage and pain. “I can’t believe you almost drew me in again. Your talents are wasted here — your true calling is clearly as an actress, since you’ve mastered the art of deception.”

I averted my eyes as his words landed against me like lashes, each one slicing deeper into vulnerable flesh.

“Tell me, is there anything but ice beneath that pretty exterior?” he whispered, his face inches from mine.

My gaze lifted to stare at his face, my spine straightened, my shoulders un-hunched and, for the first time, I felt it flutter to life, deep down at the depths of my soul — my own anger at this situation, finally coming alive. I was being treated as the villain here when, in actuality, I was as much a victim as he was. We’d been screwed, the both of us, by the same situation seven years ago. And yes, I’d played a role in the terrible end we’d come to that fateful June. But I couldn’t undo what had been done to our love, anymore than I could bring my brother back to life or travel through time to make my parents quit drinking so my teenage home wouldn’t be seized by the banks and debt collectors.

When I’d worked at Minnie’s as a teen, many nights found me in the back kitchens with Minnie herself, stirring soups or helping her wash and cut vegetables for big recipes. I remember one night, when the diner had been particularly slow, we’d set ourselves up at the stainless steel prep table and peeled about fifty potatoes for a huge shepherd’s pie someone had ordered for some kind of family event — a wedding reception or maybe a reunion. Minnie, wielding a razor sharp knife, had stopped peeling in the middle of a potato and held it up for me to examine.

“See that?” she’d asked, gesturing to the dark brown rotten spot on the side of the potato. “Some people’d throw this one out, thinkin’ it’d spoil the whole pie. But potatoes are hearty — you cut out the rot, the rest is just fine.” With a practiced swirl of her knife-tip, Minnie expertly removed the brown portion. I watched as it dropped to the tabletop, landing in a pile of discarded skins.

“Some people, baby girl, they’re your brown spots. And some of us got more spots than others, a’course. But, point is, they don’t spoil you forever. You cut ‘em out of your life, you gonna be just fine.”