It took a village…
And it hurt to be excluded from it. It hurt like hell.
“During these three months, Dylan will also be able to work more,” she told me. “He’s talked to his boss too, and the promotion is his at the end of the year. Dylan’s become too valuable. They won’t let him go.” She reached over and extended her arms, palms facing up on the table. “I need you with us on this, Sebastian.”
I frowned at her. “You’ve made it this far without me.”
She flinched at that and withdrew her hands. “It would’ve made a lot more sense if Blake hadn’t left without a word.” Her annoyance was clear. “It snowballed at the end. I should’ve told you about the program even when it was just a notion I kept rejecting, but I felt embarrassed for caving. I acted on past hurt and didn’t want their idea to be good.”
Their idea.
I put the pieces together.
“Blake told your mother about the aid being cut,” I stated.
She nodded once.
“So he’s been pushing for this,” I went on.
“Yes.” Something softened in her gaze. “He told me he was gonna talk to you about it, but I realized pretty quickly he never did.”
Not a fucking word.
“I still need you with me, Sebastian,” she repeated. “Until I can fly with Isabella or leave her with Dylan for a weekend, I can’t go visit Teddy. We’ll have daily FaceTime chats, but I’d feel a lot better if maybe you flew out once or twice. Mom and Dad are compassionate on that, at least. They’ll pay for everything. Dylan will fly out a few times too. And then, at the end of the program, I will be there for a week.”
“Christ.” Everything was going too fast. I scrubbed my hands over my face and wanted to punch a goddamn wall. “It stings to admit that I don’t know what’s best for Teddy.”
“Welcome to my world, hon. But with his needs, we have to include an expert’s opinion every now and then.”
I clenched my jaw and shook my head, my thoughts returning to Blake. “He didn’t say a single word about this. Not even a hint.”
It turned me bitter, especially after our banter about being enemies. And his insisting that he wasn’t. He was just here to visit—yeah, right, until an opportunity presented itself and he got the chance to ship Teddy off to Georgia.
Fuck, I got angrier for every second I thought about it.
He’d come over to my place, be all sweet and affectionate, spend the night in my bed, bending over for me, and behind my back, he…fucking stabbed me.
Soph opened the envelope and held out a blank card. “He left this.” It included only four words.
Tell Sebastian I’m sorry.
“Ha!” I became fucking livid, but all I could do was grin and shake my head. That motherfucker. That coward. That piece of shit.
“I didn’t see it at first,” she admitted. “When we came home yesterday and he wasn’t here, I assumed he was with you. Mom let me know he had landed in Atlanta.”
It didn’t matter. He wasn’t man enough to have an honest conversation about Teddy with me; he wasn’t man enough to look me in the eye and say goodbye—he could fucking rot.
I had to push him out of my head. Blake was gone. He’d been a mistake.
My priority was Teddy and keeping my adopted family together.
“This program,” I said and cleared my throat. “I get it. It would probably be good for him. But so we’re on the same page—it would be even better if he was enrolled in one here, right?”
Her brows knitted together. “Well, of course, but they’re ridiculously expensive.”
Good, then I knew what I had to do. Pops had wanted Marlene and me to set aside Nana’s artwork—the unsold paintings, the unfinished drawings, even the damn doodling—for a rainy day or our retirement. I’d inherited the beach house, Marlene the time-share in Key West, and we’d divided the art. Pops wanted no part of it. His artist was gone; the paintings meant nothing to him. A sentiment that I shared, though I had a couple drawings of hers that I’d never sell. But the rest… If it would keep Teddy on this side of the country, there was no question. My retirement was decades away.
“What’re you doing?” Soph asked as I got up from my seat.
“I’m gonna get the money,” I said, heading toward the hallway. “Give me forty-eight hours.” I knew just who to call first. There was a gallery owner in Seattle who had called Marlene two weeks after Nana died. If that didn’t display interest, nothing did.
“I don’t understand—how would—”