Page 94 of Some Sort of Happy (Happy Crazy Love 1)
He smiled. “You’re too easy on me.”
“I love you. And I once told you I’d give you all the chances you needed.” I took a breath. “Can you…tell me what happened?”
“Yes.” He rolled to his side and propped his head in his hand. As he talked, he played with my hair, twining it through his fingers.
“When I first saw you again, I was doing pretty well, I thought. I’d convinced myself that a solitary life was the only way I’d know peace, and peace seemed like the right goal. But then there you were.” He smiled. “Just as beautiful as ever, and those feelings I used to have for you came rushing back as if they’d never left.”
I blushed. “You hid it well, at least at first.”
“I had to. You terrified me. I felt strong for the first time in years, resigned to a life alone, and then here’s this beautiful angel right in front of me—kissing me. Touching me. Accepting me.” He shook his head. “I found myself wondering what if…”
“Me too,” I said. “It wasn’t only you.”
“And the sex.” He exhaled, closing his eyes. “The fucking sex.”
“I know,” I whispered, heat prickling across my skin. “It scared me too, how good it was.”
“I was able to be myself with you, afraid of nothing. It was so incredible. After that, it was a constant battle between my heart and my head—my heart telling me I’d always been destined to be with you, and my head refusing to let me believe I was worthy of it. I’d never brought anything but pain to women, and I wasn’t sure I was capable of letting you in.”
“But you did,” I said softly. “I felt it.”
He nodded. “I did. But the more I loved you, the more I feared the loss of you—when had I ever been able to hold on to happiness? I didn’t know how it would happen, but in my mind I always knew you’d leave, or something would happen to you, and it would be my fault.”
“Oh, Sebastian. I wish you’d have said something.”
“I couldn’t. Especially not once you told me you loved me. Then I felt this need to protect you even more, but what you needed protecting from was me. I started engaging in all my old rituals, stopped going to therapy.”
My heart ached for him. “I saw it happening. But I didn’t know what to do about it. And some days were so good.”
“They were.” He looked down at my hair twisting through his fingers. “And I should have talked to you on one of those days—I was just too scared. But the messed up thing is that you were right, you know.”
“About what?”
“That subconsciously I knew I was driving you away with my behavior and continued to do it because then at least I’d be prepared. I wouldn’t experience another sudden, shocking loss and feel blindsided and abandoned.”
“Another loss?” It hit me. “Your mom.”
“Maybe.” He kept looking at his hand, and in the firelight his sea-glass green eyes were shiny. “I’m still working through that. I don’t think it caused my OCD, but therapy is helping me to see how my fear of loss and abandonment has caused me a lot of anxiety and grief, and maybe that manifests as OCD related behaviors. Who knows?” He sighed. “For as much as science has taught us about the brain, some things are still a mystery. But I don’t think a kid loses his mom suddenly and tragically and remains unaffected—and when I look at the way I chose isolation and emotional distance from people, it makes sense. And this probably sounds crazy, but I felt like I deserved the loneliness. Like a punishment. Whether it was penance for my mom’s death, my violent thoughts, my cold treatment of women, my breakup with Diana…there was always something in my head I needed to atone for. But I don’t want to be alone anymore. I want to be with you.”
My throat closed up and I threw my arms around his neck, pressing my body against his. “You aren’t,” I sobbed. “I love you and I won’t let you be alone. You deserve to be happy, Sebastian.”
He gathered me in his arms, lying back and letting me weep against his chest. “Thank you. I can’t say there won’t be setbacks, and I’ll tell you right now there will be good days and bad, but I promise to talk about it with you.”
Nodding, I blubbered for a solid ten minutes as he stroked my hair and rubbed my back. I don’t even know why I was crying so hard—relief? Sadness for the child he’d been? The man he was now? Laying my cheek on his chest, I listened to his heart beat and vowed he would never know loneliness again.
“Will you come to therapy with me?” Sebastian asked once my sobs had subsided.
“Of course,” I said, picking my head up to smile at him. “I’d love that.”
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sp; “Good.” He wiped my tears from under one eye with his thumb. “Because this is it for me, Skylar. You’re the love of my life.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’ve spent nearly all my days being dominated by doubt, unable to trust myself—tortured by what my mind says and what my heart knows. But for once, I feel—I know—this is right. You’re the one.” He smiled. “And that is the only time the number one will ever sound good to me.”
I laughed. “I want to be the one.”
