Page 213 of Terms of Exposure
"I didn't want to be a burden," I admitted, clutching Lavender.
"You're an angel," he said fiercely.
The kitchen door creaked.
"Tea's ready," Rosie called softly. "Whenever you two are."
Sebastian looked at me, eyes red-rimmed and shining.
"Stay," he said. "Just for a little while. Have some tea. Let my mom fuss overyou."
"Sebastian—"
He reached for my hand, interlacing my fingers in his. "Please."
I thought about my empty apartment.
The phone buzzing on the kitchen counter.
The quiet waiting for me.
Then I thought about this—
the warm light,
the faint scent of chamomile,
Sebastian's hand wrapped around mine.
Steady.
Certain.
"Okay," I whispered. "Just for a little while."
Rosie's tea was too sweet. Her cookies too buttery. She refilled my cup before I could finish it.
I ate three.
I didn't count a single calorie.
Sebastian sat beside me, his knee pressed against mine.
Rosie talked about nothing—the neighbor's new dog, the leak in the upstairs bathroom, whether Sebastian was getting enough protein—and I let it blur into the background.
No tension.
No tears.
Like everything was normal.
It was nice.
I finally stood to leave when the clock down the hall announced midnight.
"You'll text me when you get home?" Sebastian asked, walking me to the door. His limp was worse now—exhaustion and emotion taking their toll.
"I'll text you."
