Even though you might never personally be able to predict it, there are cycles to things, patterns; a beginning, a middle, and an end.
Cycles like the moon, like Earth’s journey around its sun.
I glanced at the digital clock standing on my desk. It was past midnight. Past my usual hour. I leaned back and pushed my fingers against my forehead.
“Ugghhh.” I groaned.Why couldn’t I predict that? That…that kiss shouldn’t have happened. It should never have happened.
Our contract clearly stated that we were not to engage in any intimate contact. I had even underlined that point twice. And made it very clear to Elly…
I switched off the computer. My head couldn’t take it any longer, anyway. My eyes were beginning to blur, turn inwardly into my thoughts, and I didn’t want to be in my thoughts. There was one thing on my mind and I needed to do everything in my power to distract myself from it: the kiss.
I stood up to fling open the window and carefully stick my head out and take in the cool breeze. The air still smelled like the freshness of rain, of sticky sand and salt melting on people’s skins. Damp grass, and wet bark.
There wasn’t much of a moon. The one back at my brother’s wedding had been awe-inducing, the rich reds, oranges, and yellows all in abundance. Tonight’s moon was dull, uninspiring. A mockery, almost.
Yet, between these two moons, so much had happened that stopped me from spending my whole night balancing numbers and formulas.
You see, Sebastian, what happens when you mix business with pleasure? You see the mess you have made? You lose one. You can’t keep both.
“From now on,” I told myself, returning to fix myself a drink from my cupboard and mini fridge. “From now on there will be no more mixing. There will be a hard line between us.”
Because I had a bad feeling that if we crossed that line one more time, that would be over. For both of us.
CHAPTER29
SEBASTIAN
I’d known it was coming. I had it all synced with my calendar and had even ordered a few choice wine bottles to be delivered to Mom’s doorstep on the day of. Elly had already picked out her dress, and I had a suit waiting for me at the dry cleaners. All of that to say, Mom didn’t really need to call to invite me to the family dinner. But she had to act the part of the pestering parent. And I had to play the reluctant son.
“Oh, Sebastian but you have to come. I’m cooking all of your dad’s favorite foods, so you really can’t miss it,” Mom insisted on the other end of the phone. She was doing the calls, presumably, to me and Elonzo to make sure we attended her monthly get-together.
“When is it again?” I yawned. Mom tended to call around so early that people had only just gotten out of bed.
“Write it down, Sebastian. And not in a notebook or scrapbook because you will lose them and then what are you going to do when you miss the party?” Mom was definitely in mom mode.
“I’ll just add it to my calendar on my phone and set up five alarms so that I will remember the date and time even when I don’t need it.” My head was killing me. The air-conditioning unit was still on full blast. Yes, that was probably the culprit.
“Oh, Sebastian, why do you have to be so sarcastic? Now, are you typing?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Good. The fifteenth of this month at five p.m. And get that etched in your brain. Now please bring Elly along too. We haven’t seen her properly since that lunch we had on your father’s name day.”
I gritted my teeth. I was angry, but I couldn’t quite figure out why.
“Sebastian?” My mother was tutting, a clear sign her patience was waning.
“Yes. I will bring Elly.” I rose from the bed and punched the button for the air-conditioning a little too hard. The remote went flying, banged against the wall, and broke in two on the floor.
I swore. And then I swore again when I remembered my mother was still on the line. I could imagine her face. Indignation didn’t even begin to describe it. She was going to let me have it. Never mind that I was a grown man; swearing was never acceptable in her books.
“Sebastian, I pray to God you don’t use that sort of language with Elly.” Her voice was icy.
“No, Mother. Of course not. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her feelings.”
When she finally put the phone down, the nagging feelings began.Was that really true? Am I really trying not to hurt Elly’s feelings?
Sticks and stones are the only thing that hurt, they say, but is it just something we say to each other to make us feel better about the knives we throw out with our letters and commas?