Some Sort of Happy (Skylar and Sebastian): A Happy Crazy Love Novel (35 page)

“You’re welcome.” She sat across from me. “Now spill. What happened?”

I shrugged and stared at my coffee. Where did I even begin?

She was quiet a minute, and I could feel her eyes on me. “I hope you don’t think she betrayed a confidence, but Skylar has mentioned your OCD to me.”

“I figured. I know you’re close.”

She picked up her coffee and blew across its surface. “Does this have anything to do with that?”

I sighed, feeling completely defeated. “Yes.”

More silence. “Do you have a therapist?”

“Yes. But I haven’t been honest with him about my relationship with Skylar. And I’ve been avoiding him for a month.”

“Why?”

I exhaled heavily. “Because when she told me she loved me, I relapsed, and I was too scared to admit it.”

She tilted her head. “Scared of what? Don’t you love her?”

I met her eyes. “Of course I love her. Look, I can’t even begin to explain the fucked up circuitry in my brain, but suffice it to say, I thought I was protecting her by saying nothing. By doing the things I did.”
Solid thinking there, asshole.

Nodding slowly, she sipped her coffee. “What about now? Can you talk to him now?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if he can help me.” I swallowed hard against the bitter bile rising in my throat, so sick and tired of that voice in my head I wanted to scream. Why wouldn’t it just leave me the fuck alone? “I don’t know if anyone can help me.”

“I’m sorry.” She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Because Skylar is crazy in love with you, you know. Every other word out of her mouth is your name. And I don’t think she’s going to let you go.”

“I love her too. But she already left me, and she was right to do it.”

“Says who?”

The voice in my head.
“Me.”

“You’re right. That is fucked up.” She sounded so much like Skylar, I looked up sharply. “Sorry if that’s harsh, but I agree with you. I’m the first person to say I think Sky’s a great catch, but she’s a handful too. Ever tried to share a bathroom with her? Good grief, she’s a slob. Makeup and hair shit everywhere. And her shoe collection—good grief! Those boxes! Good luck to any man who needs any closet space at all in her house.”

My lips tipped up a little. “Yeah. She does have a lot of shoes.”

“She’s a cover hog too. Ever notice that?”

I had, but it didn’t bother me. I’d subject myself to subzero temperatures before letting her be cold at night.

“And she’s pretty and all but have you ever seen her funny little ears? They stick way out from her head like a monkey’s.”

I found myself smiling at a memory—Skylar surfacing after jumping into the lake the first time we went swimming together, hands over her ears. I thought they were adorable, of course, but she hated them. “Yeah. But I actually like them.”

“What about the way she’s so obsessed with wine now? I never thought I’d get bored with wine, but Jesus, if I have to listen to her talk about
vines
and
terroir
and
fruit on the palate
any more, I’m going to strangle her.”

I straightened up, feeling the need to defend her. “She’s dedicated to her new job. I love that about her.”

“Well then, I’d suggest you try harder to get over feeling like you don’t deserve her, because believe me, all she wants is you, and any man that can put up with her bathroom mess and her closet hogging and cover stealing and fruit-on-the-palating
and
the Nixon ears…” She shrugged. “Seems like you guys should make this work.”

Miserable, I slumped back in my chair again and regarded Natalie. “Her faults are so small compared to mine. Mine drive us both crazy and they probably would for the rest of our lives.”

She tilted her head from side to side. “Maybe. Guess you won’t know until you try it. But nobody’s perfect, Sebastian. Give yourself a break.”

I sat there for a minute, my hands on the table, wondering what to do next. “She won’t even talk to me.”

She pressed her lips together. “She’s being stubborn. Of course she wants to see you, she just won’t say that. Her exact words were, ‘Not until he gets his shit together. And I can’t be the one to get it together for him.’”

I frowned. She was right about that—I had to fix this on my own, if I could. But I was so worried about her. “What about her injuries? They’re not serious?”

“No. Like I said, a broken wrist and a bump on the noggin, that’s all. Since she lost consciousness briefly, they’re keeping her for observation, but she seems fine.”

The thought of her slender wrist broken and a bump on her head infuriated and saddened me. I wished there was some way I could bear it all for her. “Is she in pain? Will her new insurance cover this? She just got benefits last month,” I worried.

Natalie scrunched up her face as she set down her cup. “Yeah, we’re waiting to hear. Our parents might have to help her out.”

My hand shot out and I grabbed her arm. “Please let me pay for it. I want to. I want to take care of her.”
Forever.

Forever.

Forever.

Forever.

Forever.

Forever.

Forever.

Forever.

I didn’t even feel that bad about counting it out. I’d have kept going, to infinity, but Natalie shook her head. “She’ll never let you.”

I set my elbows on the table and buried my head in my hands. I had so much work to do. So much ground to regain.

Natalie touched my wrist. “Go see your therapist, Sebastian. And try again. She’s worth it.”

“She is worth it.” I looked up at Natalie, totally sure of what I was saying. “She’s the one.”

I woke up to the sight of Natalie reading a magazine in the chair near my bed. “Hey,” I croaked.

“Hey. You’re up.” She set her magazine aside. “How do you feel?”

I made a face, tried to shift positions. “Haven’t been this sore since I fell off the mechanical bull. Achey. Wrist hurts.” I lifted my left arm gingerly. “God, I’m such a klutz. This really sucks.”

Natalie nodded sympathetically. “How’s your head?”

“Hurts. But still attached.” I tried to move my neck, which was stiff as hell. “How come you’re not at work?”

“I had Michael open for me.”

“Did you talk to Mia?”

“Yes. She and Lucas are both very worried about you and said not to concern yourself with anything at Abelard. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mia came by here today, or by your house tomorrow, if they let you go. She wants to see you.”

I nodded, but that hurt, so I just lay still and moaned. “Uuuuuuugh, why did I have to wear those damn expensive shoes?”

Natalie laughed ruefully. “It was probably a damn expensive fall. Think your insurance will cover it?”

I groaned. “I hope so.”

“If it doesn’t, Mom and Dad will help you. Mom will be here shortly.” She was quiet for a second, fiddling with the hem of her hoodie. “Sebastian was here last night.”

At the sound of his name, my breath caught. “He was? He hates hospitals!” For a moment, I was sad I’d been so adamant with Natalie about not seeing him.
He must have struggled to walk through those doors, but he did it. Maybe there’s hope.

“He offered to pay your hospital bill.”

“No. I don’t want his charity.” The offer was sweet, and so like him, but I’d never take him up on it. We were broken up right now, as far as I was concerned. The thought made my throat hurt. My chest. My heart. Everything.

“He was very upset. He wanted to see you.”

Carefully, I turned my head to look at my sister. I could tell from her voice there was more. “What else did he say?”

She shrugged. “Not much. Just that he’d messed up. He seemed to agree with you about getting his shit together.”

“Really? He talked to you about it?” Closing my eyes, I exhaled, scared to let myself be too optimistic but wondering if maybe the things I said last night had gotten through to him. The truth was, I didn’t want to be without him in my life, and I’d do what it took to help him—but he had to
let
me.

“I think he was going to talk to his therapist. He said he would.”

“He did? Thank God.” Relief eased some of my pain, at least the emotional grief. Going to therapy was the best first step. My eyes filled. “He’s so hard on himself. And I was really hard on him. But I love him—and he doesn’t understand how frustrating it is for me to see him struggling and not know what’s in his head.”

“I don’t know what’s in his head, Skylar. But I know what’s in his heart—you are.”

My throat closed up completely, and my head began to throb with the need to cry. I closed my eyes and the tears slipped down my cheeks. “Was I wrong to walk out? Oh God, I’m awful. I should have stayed with him. Then I wouldn’t have fallen. It’s a sign I’m a horrible person after all.”

Natalie stood, grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and dabbed at my cheeks. “Stop. I don’t think you were wrong to leave. In my opinion, he needed that wake up call. And loving someone doesn’t mean you have to love everything they do. But it does mean you forgive them a little more often, a little more easily.”

I sniffed. “I once told him I’d give him all the chances he needed, and he called me a fool.”

“We’re all fools for love, aren’t we?” Her voice was wistful.

I looked up at her. “Things aren’t any better with Dan?” Last I’d heard, he’d admitted to a flirtation at the office, but nothing more.

“I don’t know. I guess they are. He claims the fling or whatever it was is over and begged for another chance, and we do have a lot of history. I don’t want to just throw that away.” She sat on the edge of the bed and chewed her lip a moment. “But I also don’t want history to be the
only
reason to give him another chance. When I see you talk about Sebastian, when I listened to him talk about you, when I saw the expression on his face when he said you were the one, I—”

“Wait, what? What did he say?” I didn’t mean to interrupt Natalie’s thought, and I did care deeply about her feelings, but I couldn’t just let her gloss over that thing about
the one
. Had I even heard her right? My head was so foggy.

“He said you were the one.” Her face contorted with worry. She put her hands on her head. “Oh no, I hope I didn’t just blow what was supposed to be a really nice moment between the two of you by telling you that. He’s never said that to you before?”

“No,” I said slowly, my heart beating fast. Wasn’t
the one
kind of a forever thing? “He doesn’t believe in the one. Plus it’s an odd number. He hates those.”

“What?” She dropped her hands, her expression confused.

“Never mind. Just one of the quirks that makes Sebastian who he is.” But right then, I actually found his number quirks kind of endearing. “So he really said that?”

She nodded. “Yes. He definitely said, ‘She’s the one.’ But you can’t tell him I told you first!” Her eyes were wide and panicked.