Page 64 of Till Forever Falls Apart
He placed his hands on my arms, rubbing them gently up and down. “I know I’ve been distant, so I wanted to do something special to make it up to you.”
My body loosened. “No, I get it. I know work has been hard for you with Caspian around and what happened with the fund proposal. I know you’ve got a lot on.”
“All I want is for Luxe Corp to stay in my hands. You understand that, right?”
“Yes, I do.” I hesitated for a moment. “Are you sure there’s nothing else? You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “No, there’s nothing else.”
“It’s been really lonely without you.”
He held my hands. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like that. It hasn’t helped with my dad being back. I’ve not put you first, and I should have. You’ve always been my priority.”
He ran his fingers across my jaw and placed his hands there, grazing my cheeks with his thumbs. “There’s nothing in this world that would stop me from fighting for you. For us. You, Nyx, are the best thing to ever happen in my life, and nothing will ever keep me from you. I love you.”
My heart skipped a beat, and those butterflies which had been so dormant recently started fluttering in my stomach again. I leaned in slowly and met his lips.
“I love you too,” I whispered.
“I made your favourite,” he said faintly.
“Bacon sandwiches with mayo?”
He let out a soft laugh and smiled at me. “No, a roast dinner.”
“But it’s not Sunday,” I said, biting my bottom lip.
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” His voice was low, like he was telling me a secret.
My stomach filled with warmth. This—this silliness—was what I’d missed with him. He pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me. Then he kissed the top of my head and released me to pull out my chair, and I sat down.
He had literally cooked everything. There was roast beef, honey-glazed parsnips, carrots. His famous roast potatoes that he would never share his secret for getting so crispy. He said it was his nan’s recipe, and he’d be betraying her if he did. There was butternut squash that he’d roasted, cauliflower—my favourite—stuffing, and enormous Yorkshire puddings. Everything had been made from scratch, even the gravy. For a Chelsea boy, I was always pleasantly surprised that he knew how to cook and was so good at it.
“Thank you. This really means a lot to me.”
“I want to be here with you more than anything, I really do, but it’s hard at the moment.”
I took hold of his hand, squeezing it. “I get it. I promise.”
Sebastian put some food on my plate for me, and I soon started to tuck in. The beef fell apart in my mouth and was cooked just enough for it to be tender, without the blood dripping from it. Sebastian knew I wouldn’t eat it if I saw blood.
“I think this has my name on it.”
Sebastian grabbed the crispiest potato from my plate, and I heard the crunch.
I tapped his arm playfully. “Stop stealing my food.”
“Never. Not in this lifetime, anyway.”
“Is this why you left work early today?”
He paused for a moment, not quite meeting my eyes, and took a sip of his whisky before he answered.
“Yeah, it was.”
Shifting in my chair, I realised that he just needed time to get through all of this at work. He didn’t have all of this when we were younger. He didn’t run the company back then with all the added pressure. This had to be hard for him. As much as he tried to hide it, I could tell he was being pulled in all directions, and I wasn’t going to let one of them be me putting demands on him.
I needed to back off and let him deal with it, and I’d be there if he needed me.
