Happily Letter After

by Keeland, Vi

  “But something I couldn’t quite figure out changed before he left. I think maybe what happened really hit him.”

  “What do you mean . . . like the fact he fucked you?”

  “It’s not the first time he’s had sex since his wife died. But I get the impression it was the first time it was with someone he might have feelings for. I think maybe either he started to feel guilty or maybe he regretted it. I can’t be sure.”

  She sighed. “Of course it can’t be simple, right?”

  “No. And in this case, I wouldn’t expect it to be. To be honest, I’m still a little shocked that it actually happened. So I can imagine how he feels, all the emotions he might be going through once the reality of what we did sets in. I just hope he’s okay.”

  She swirled her wine around in the glass and shook her head. “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “Most women would feel neglected in your shoes. But you’re actually thinking about his feelings? You really care about him, don’t you?”

  I didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes. Yes, I really do, and it’s scaring me because I stand a very real chance of getting hurt because of that.”

  The way our texts read, anyone picking up my phone might’ve thought this man was my brother. I sighed and scrolled back to reread our messages from the last couple of days.

  Late Sunday night, after Devin had left, there had been:

  Sebastian: Hey. Sorry I had to run this afternoon. I had a really nice time.

  Nice?

  That wouldn’t be the word I’d use to describe earth-shattering sex. Phenomenal? Amazing? Incredible? “Nice” . . . was more like something your great-aunt said to you. Thanks for stopping by the nursing home today, Sadie. It was so nice to see you.

  Yet . . . I’d followed his lead and typed back.

  Sadie: No worries! I had a nice time, too.

  Then on Monday evening, I just couldn’t stop wondering what was going on in Sebastian’s head. So I decided it was my turn to initiate contact this time. I figured I’d be funny. So I typed:

  Sadie: Hey. How was your lay?

  The dots had moved around a bit, then stopped, and then started again. Eventually, he’d typed back.

  Sebastian: Busy. How about yours?

  I’d been disappointed he didn’t take the bait with my intentional typo, yet I replied back:

  Sadie: Good!

  Tuesday and Wednesday, we had no interaction, then last night I got my hopes up when my phone buzzed with an incoming text:

  Sebastian: Are you busy Saturday evening?

  I’d been thinking . . . dinner . . . a movie . . . sex maybe?

  Sadie: I’m free after seven!

  But my heart sank reading his response.

  Sebastian: Think we can do training at 7:30 or 8:00? Birdie has been bugging me. Apparently she taught Duke a new trick, and she can’t wait to show you. She won’t even show it to me first.

  I smiled at Birdie’s being excited. Though again I felt disappointment that the text didn’t mention anything about the two of us. Yet still, I said nothing. Instead, I’d answered:

  Sadie: That sounds good. Can’t wait!

  Half an hour later it was still irking me how innocuous our texts had been. So I decided to see if maybe I could get a rise out of him. It was dumb, a spur-of-the-moment reaction to my feelings being hurt, and I regretted it right after I hit “Send.”

  Sadie: It might be closer to 8:00, but I’ll come straight after my . . . work thingy.

  I chewed on my nail, waiting to see how he’d respond. He knew what type of work things I often did after business hours. This time, I had a combination happy hour and six minute dating with a friend event. After everything that had transpired between Sebastian and me the last two weeks, the truth was, I felt weird about going at all. Eight six-minute dates with men consuming copious amounts of alcohol wouldn’t have sounded appealing even if I’d never met Sebastian Maxwell. But I’d signed up two months ago because the with a friend part intrigued me, and I’d thought it would make for a fun article. In regular speed dating, you spent five to ten minutes talking to a stranger and then moved on to the next. At the end of a session of six or eight different mini dates, you wrote down if you were interested in an actual date with any of the men. If they also wrote your name down, then your contact information was given to each of you by the host. That was all true with this event, too. Only tomorrow night’s event had a twist. Both the man and woman seeking the dates brought a friend, and it was the friends who did the talking on the six-minute dates. They each asked questions about the prospective date to the prospective date’s friend. It sounded a little nutty, but I knew bringing Devin would make it interesting. Plus, months ago, I’d had no idea the Maxwells would be in my life. Which was pretty surreal to think about now, since I felt like I’d known them so much longer.

  I watched my phone as my text went from Sent to Delivered to Read. The little dots started to jump around, and I held my breath, waiting to see Sebastian’s response.

  Sebastian: Work thingy?

  I smiled to myself. I’d gotten his attention, but as I started to type back, I became nervous. Why? I didn’t know. It wasn’t like we were in an exclusive relationship or anything. Though to me, things with Sebastian weren’t exactly casual, either. I regretted poking the bear even after I’d gotten exactly what I’d been after. How would I feel if Sebastian told me he had a date? Ugh. I needed to backtrack a bit . . . rewind and put Jack back in the box.

  Sadie: Yeah. Just some research for an article.

  But Sebastian wasn’t having it.

  Sebastian: A date?

  Well, technically I had eight dates. Though I didn’t think I needed to clarify that small point at the moment.

  Sadie: Technically yes. Though not really. Just a new kind of speed dating for an upcoming article.

  I braced myself, waiting for the response. While we’d been texting back and forth conversation-style, suddenly Sebastian went radio silent. It was a full ten minutes before my phone buzzed again. And when it did, my heart stuttered to a halt as I read his words:

  Sebastian: Have a good time.

  “So. What does Tyler do for a living?” Devin said, sipping her second Cosmo.

  Tyler’s friend Ethan answered. “He’s a pilot. Does long hauls between here and Sydney.”

  “Wow. That’s a cool job. Does Tyler get discounts for friends and family? If so, I might be willing to skirt the rules and give you Sadie’s number right now.”

  We all laughed. It was our fifth date of the night, and Devin had gotten really into her role of vetting prospective dates. Though the fun of the evening had nothing to do with any of the men, because let’s face it, I had no interest in any of them. The fun was the outlandish shit that came out of Devin’s mouth. Maybe if I’d been more into the night, I’d have noticed how cute Tyler was.

  “Does your friend have any nicknames?” Devin asked.

  Tyler flashed Ethan a menacing warning look.

  “Oh no you don’t,” she said. “Spit it out. Now we need to know.”

  Ethan grinned. “His nickname is Tink.”

  “Tink? Like in Tinker Bell?”

  Ethan shook his head. “No, Tink because the first time he ever got drunk, we were about thirteen, and he got so shit-faced that he wet the bed after he passed out.”

  We all laughed while Tyler punched his friend’s arm. “You’re supposed to be helping me find a date, not scaring them away, jackass.”

  “What show does your friend watch that he wouldn’t want you to tell me about right now?”

  Ethan’s smile grew wide again. Tyler just shut his eyes. This was going to be good.

  “He watches that show Something and the Restless.”

  My eyes widened. “The Young and the Restless. The soap opera?”

  Ethan cracked up. “We had a roommate in college who watched it. Tyler here was madly in love, but she had a boyfriend. He started to watch it just to sp
end time with her. For Christmas he even got her tickets to one of those fan meet and greets where you meet a celebrity at a bookstore.”

  “Aww, that’s so sweet,” Devin said. “What happened with her?”

  Tyler groaned and mock banged his head on the table before Ethan answered. “She hooked up with the dude from the show after the meet and greet. The next day, she dumped the boyfriend and started to go out with the actor. Last I heard, they have two kids.”

  “Oh my God.” I laughed. “Is he kidding?”

  Poor Tyler just shook his head. “I wish he were.”

  His smile was lopsided and modest but adorable and seemingly genuine. I smiled back, and we shared a connection for a brief moment. A minute later, the host yelled that time was up and instructed the women to move one table to the right. Tyler and I shook hands, and he caught my eye. “It was really nice sharing six incredibly embarrassing moments with you.”

  I laughed. “You too.”

  Shuffling to the next table, Devin bumped her shoulder with mine. “He was really cute. I hope we match with him.”

  The next three speed dates were on the painful side. One guy slurred his words, and the other two definitely didn’t get Devin’s sense of humor. I was thrilled to be done. Devin took out the match cards they’d given us when we walked in.

  “I vote for one, three, and five,” she said.

  “I don’t think the man you live with is going to be happy with three dates. Maybe you should cut it down to one.”

  She frowned. “I’m serious.”

  I sighed. “I don’t want to go out with any of these guys, Dev.”

  “I know, honey. But you said yourself that you didn’t know where things stood between you and Sebastian. So why not give some of these guys a chance? At least number five. He was adorable.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  The host came around to collect the card that I was supposed to list my dates on. I handed it to him.

  “You didn’t fill it out yet.”

  I smiled. “Yes, I did. Thanks for a fun evening.”

  Outside, I hugged Devin goodbye and thanked her for coming with me.

  “At least I can write a good article about it. This was actually fun. The other time I did speed dating, it was so awkward. But having your friend there keeps things so much more relaxed.”

  “It wasn’t having me here that made it relaxed. You had no intention of going out with anyone before you even stepped foot in the place. So there was no pressure for you.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “You know I was Team Sebastian from the very first day.”

  “I know. What happened? You went from encouraging me to go after him to wanting me to go out and date.”

  She squeezed my arm. “I don’t want a heart that isn’t available to love you to keep you from finding one that is.”

  I frowned. “I won’t let that happen. I promise.”

  While I meant the words when I said them, the problem was, falling in love wasn’t something I actually had any control over.

  “Can I try one more time?” Birdie jumped up and down.

  I looked at Magdalene, who had been a good sport all night, and she nodded. Birdie clicked the clicker twice then yelled, “Speak! Marmaduke. Gib laut!”

  The overgrown puppy began to bark nonstop. Tonight we’d started to train him to bark on command. Since the doorbell was something that always made him yap anyway, we incorporated it into the training. Magdalene would go outside, and on the count of ten, she’d ring the bell and I’d click the clicker and tell him to speak. When he barked, I’d scratch behind his ears while telling him he was a good boy and rewarding him with a treat. After doing that five times, I could just click the clicker and yell for him to speak, and Marmaduke would start barking, even without the doorbell. The only problem was, sometimes we couldn’t get him to stop. He’d take the biscuit, practically swallow it whole, and then go right back to barking again.

  Which was exactly what had happened again this time. While the loud bark didn’t bother Birdie at all, it was starting to drive me nuts, and poor Magdalene sat at the dining room table rubbing her temples again. Desperate to stop the piercing sound, I opened the end-table drawer, where we’d hidden the stuffed toys he had taken a shine to, and tossed a stuffed unicorn at him. He stopped barking but only because he was now too busy humping. I sighed. Note to self: This week watch YouTube videos on how to stop barking once you get it started.

  Magdalene’s phone started to ring, and she laughed answering it.

  “Oh, hi, Mr. Maxwell.”

  My ears perked up more than Marmaduke’s did when he saw the shell of a tortoise.

  “Yes, sure. She’s still here.” She paused and then: “Hold on a second.” I tried to look busy when Magdalene called to me. “Sadie, Mr. Maxwell would like to speak to you.”

  “Oh. Okay.” My heart started to flutter as she walked over the phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey.”

  His voice sounded tense. “Is everything okay?”

  “I was trying to reach you, but you weren’t answering your phone.”

  “Oh. It was . . . in my bag, I guess. I probably didn’t hear it because of the barking.”

  “Barking?”

  “We were teaching Marmaduke how to speak.”

  I heard Sebastian blow out a deep breath through the phone. “Listen. I was trying to get out of here by eight thirty so I could make it home before you leave. But that’s obviously not happening. I could probably get out in an hour or two. Do you think you could . . . hang around until I get home? We need to talk.”

  My pulse quickened. “Sure. Of course. Why don’t I tell Magdalene she can go?”

  “If you don’t mind. She’s been staying pretty late all week. So that would be great.”

  “Of course.”

  “Let me run. We’re down a few people.”

  “Okay. See you later.”

  I ended the call and handed the phone back to Magdalene. “Sebastian asked me to stay so we could . . . uhhh . . . talk about Marmaduke’s training. Why don’t you go home? He said you could use a night of getting out early.”

  She smiled and looked over my shoulder at Birdie, then leaned in to whisper. “Mr. Maxwell has been cranky this week.”

  “Has he?”

  She nodded and winked. “Hopefully your talk about Marmaduke’s training will have him feeling better.”

  “Oh . . . it’s . . . not what you think.”

  She raised both her eyebrows.

  I sighed. “Okay . . . so maybe it is what you think. But it’s . . . it’s . . . I don’t know what it is, Magdalene.”

  She smiled. “He’s a good man. Have patience with him.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so instead I just nodded.

  After Magdalene left, Birdie took a shower. She came out to the living room and asked if I could braid her hair. About nine thirty, she yawned, and I tucked her into bed. Then I sat in the living room waiting for Sebastian. I kept replaying what he’d said to me on the phone over and over. “We need to talk.” No good news came after an opening line like that. A horrible feeling of dread loomed over me as I waited. I felt hurt, and he hadn’t even ended things yet. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure what exactly he would be ending. It wasn’t like we’d defined anything. All I knew was that we had started something, and to me that something was special.

  By ten thirty, I was still sitting on the couch but now bobbing my knee up and down, feeling like I might jump out of my skin. I hadn’t heard from Sebastian again. On the phone, he’d said an hour or two, so hopefully that meant he’d be here any minute. Deciding I needed to calm down, I went in search of wine in his office.

  I knew where the key was kept, because I’d watched Macie raid the locked cabinet last weekend. But when I went to grab it from the desk drawer, a framed picture snagged my attention. I picked it up and stared at a photo of Sebastian and Amanda. It had been taken
in the hospital. Sebastian had one arm around his wife’s shoulder while she cradled a newborn Birdie. They were both smiling and looked so happy.

  Was this how it would be if we were together anyway? Framed photos of his first love all over the house? Living in the shadow of another woman? How exactly would that work if he got married again? Would the photo of his new bride slide into the frame right over the one from his first wedding? Maybe him dumping me tonight was for the best.

  Yeah, definitely for the best.

  “She was born three weeks early.”

  Sebastian’s deep voice startled me and I jumped. Unfortunately, the frame slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor, landing facedown with a loud clank.

  The hand that had been holding the frame flew up and covered my heart. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  “Sorry.”

  Nervous, I bent to pick up the frame. I felt nauseous when I turned it over.

  Cracked. The glass was cracked.

  I shook my head. “God, I’m so sorry. It’s broken. I’ll replace it.”

  Sebastian walked toward me and slipped it from my hand. “It’s fine. No big deal.” He set the frame facedown on his desk and our eyes caught. “Sorry I’m so late.”

  “I wasn’t snooping. I just came in to see if you had any wine and . . . I guess the photo caught my attention.”

  Sebastian nodded. He walked around to where I stood and pulled open the drawer. Taking out the key, he unlocked the liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of red wine. He tilted it to show me the label. “This okay?”

  “Does it have alcohol?”

  He chuckled. “Got ya. Fill your glass to the brim.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sebastian uncorked the bottle and filled one glass, then stuffed the cork back in.

  “Aren’t you having any?” I said.

  He handed me the very full glass. “Maybe later. I need to keep my head clear right now.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “Come on. Let’s go sit in the living room.”

  Together we sat on the couch. While I sipped my wine and waited, Sebastian held his head in his hands and stared down at the floor. It made my heart hurt that he looked as pained as I felt. The man had been through so much; I needed to make this easy for him. So I took a giant gulp of liquid courage and set my glass down on the end table before moving closer to him.