Enchanting Sebastian

by Kristen Proby

  “We’re not perfect,” I mutter. “And she reminded me of that often.”

  “She can’t hurt us anymore,” Christian reminds me.

  “I think she loved us, in the only way she could.”

  “I don’t,” he says. “She chose the way she behaved. Her need for attention and fame in her own right overtook her instincts as a parent, and it cost her the love of both of her children.”

  “And isn’t that a shame?” Sebastian says softly. “Because she lost out on two wonderful people.”

  I glance up at him and squeeze his hand. “Thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome. It’s going to be a rough couple of days. What do you two need from Jenna and me?”

  “Yes,” Jenna says, “what can we do?”

  “Just be here,” Christian says. “The moral support is the most important piece. I honestly don’t know what we’re walking into. We’ll go directly to the coroner’s office from the airport. They want us to identify the body.”

  “Christian.” My voice is a squeak. “No one’s identified her?”

  He swallows hard. “They know it’s her because she was found at home, but they need a family member to confirm.”

  “Who found her?” Jenna asks.

  “I’ve had a home health nurse looking in on her since her heart attack. She goes twice a week.”

  I’m staring at my brother, dumbfounded.

  “I didn’t know that.”

  He shrugs a shoulder. “I thought it was best to hire someone to look in, make sure she was taking her meds, had groceries, that sort of thing.”

  “She never mentioned it.”

  “Of course, she didn’t,” Christian says with a humorless smile. “She wanted to keep painting herself as the victim, and me the bad guy. I can only imagine the things she’s told you about being alone and unable to go places.”

  That’s exactly what she told me.

  “It was a lie. Sandra went twice every week, and sometimes more if Mom had appointments or other things she needed.”

  “I can’t believe she didn’t say anything.” I rub my hand over my eyes. I’m not wearing makeup. I cried it all off, and adding more seemed a waste of time.

  “I’m sorry, darling.” Sebastian kisses my temple.

  “Me, too.”

  We land in L.A. and are immediately ushered into a limo and driven to the coroner’s office, where we enter through a back door.

  Liam and Nick were constantly talking into their phones during the journey from the airport and are all business as they escort us into the building.

  “This way, please,” the doctor says, gesturing for us to sit in a conference room at the end of a hallway. “I’m Dr. Garcia. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  Number one.

  There will be hundreds of sorry for your loss platitudes coming our way.

  I hate that expression.

  “Thank you for coming all this way,” Dr. Garcia continues. “As you know—”

  “We don’t know anything,” I interrupt. “Can you please tell us how she was found, and what happened?”

  “Oh, of course. Your mother was found yesterday afternoon at around two.” He frowns and looks at his hands on the table.

  “You can be frank with us,” Christian says.

  “We think she was deceased for about four days before she was found,” he says at last.

  “How did she die?” I ask.

  “Your mother was on blood thinners after her heart attack, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Her doctor recently changed her medication, but we think she was confused. Rather than switching to the new med, she began taking them both. Which was catastrophic for her. It seems she cut herself on something and bled out rapidly. There was no way to save her, even if someone had been with her.”

  “Oh, my,” Jenna says on a sigh.

  “So, it was an accident?” Sebastian says.

  “Yes, sir,” Dr. Garcia replies. “There was no evidence of self-harm, or of anyone else being there. It was an accident.”

  I stand, pushing the chair out from under me. “I’ll identify her now.”

  “No, Nina, I’ll do it,” Christian says, but I’m already shaking my head no.

  “You haven’t been in the same room with her in years.”

  “I was there when she had the heart attack.”

  “Briefly. And I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty or to hurt you. I’m not angry at you. I just think it should be me. You don’t have to do this. She did enough to you.”

  Christian stands and takes my hand. “She did enough to both of us. We’ll go together.”

  I blink rapidly, not willing to let the tears fall as Dr. Garcia leads us down the hall to another room that’s empty aside from a gurney and a body covered with a sheet.

  Sebastian, Jenna, and the others wait in the hallway as we go into the room and stand next to the gurney. Dr. Garcia stands across from us as he grips the sheet.

  “We just need a positive identification,” he says and then peels back the linens.

  I don’t know what I expected, but it isn’t this.

  She looks…peaceful. Pale. Her lips are blue. Her eyes are closed, and maybe for the first time in my life, she doesn’t look angry.

  “It’s her,” I say.

  Christian nods in agreement and then escorts me back to the hallway. Sebastian takes my hand, and we leave out the back door, headed to the limo.

  “Let’s go home,” Christian says. “My house is ready for us.”

  “I need a nap,” Jenna says. “And maybe a swim in the pool.”

  “What about you, Nina?”

  “I need a stiff drink.”

  “We can do that, too.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nina

  “YOU SHOULD EAT something.”

  I’m sitting across from Sebastian at a small table by the pool at Christian’s house. It’s early in the morning. The sun has just barely risen.

  I didn’t sleep much last night. I couldn’t get her face out of my mind, so I spent hours tossing back and forth. I even got out of bed for a while and sat out here by the pool, watching the moonlight shimmer on the water.

  At least I’ve stopped crying.

  “I’m okay.”

  He frowns at me over his iPad. I’m not sure what he’s been reading.

  “You haven’t eaten in almost two days.”

  “Thanks for counting.”

  His icy blue eyes narrow on me, and I know I’m being horrible. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t eaten, I’m just not hungry.”

  “We all need to eat,” Christian says as he and Jenna join us, carrying trays of fruit and pastries. They each choose a seat, and we nibble in silence, half-heartedly choosing from the platters of food. “Did you sleep at all?”

  I shake my head no. “You?”

  “Not much,” he admits and pours himself a cup of coffee. Nick and Liam join us on the veranda, sitting nearby, looking refreshed and ready to go. “We should leave early this morning so there’s less press.”

  “Why would there be press?” I ask and immediately regret the words. “Never mind. I know why.”

  “Why?” Jenna asks. Jenna’s always put-together. Always. But even she looks a little worse for wear this morning.

  “Because he’s Christian Wolfe, and I’m married to him.” I point my thumb at Sebastian. “Which means, this is a story. So the press will be camped out, wanting comments.”

  “If we go early, there’s less chance the press will be around,” Christian says.

  I turn to Sebastian and reach for his hand. “You don’t have to go with us.”

  I’d rather you not go with us.

  This is the part of the trip I’ve been dreading the most. If I can avoid it by making it sound like I’m protecting him from the press, all the better.

  “Of course, I’m going,” Sebastian replies. “I’ll be wherever you are, you know that.”


  “Sir,” Liam interrupts. “The princess is right. The press could get difficult on this one—”

  “Fuck that,” Sebastian says, his voice raised in agitation. “I’ve never questioned the security detail and the importance of you being with us. I follow the rules. But goddamn it, you’re asking me to not be with my wife when she’s going through one of the most difficult times in her life. If you think I’m going to stay here in case the press gets difficult, you don’t know me at all. You’ve been hired to keep us safe. Just do your bloody job, and we’ll be fine.”

  Liam’s jaw tics when he nods stiffly. “Sir.”

  “We’ll go after breakfast then,” Christian says. He’s watching Sebastian with a new light of respect shining in his eyes. “I like you, man.”

  “At least someone does. I think Liam might want to throat punch me.”

  “I won’t let him do that, sir,” Nick says, making us all laugh.

  ***

  “I don’t want you to see this,” I admit as we park in front of Mom’s house. There’s no press parked outside, so we’ll call that a win.

  “What do you mean?” Sebastian asks.

  “It’s a shit hole. Not the house itself, but what she’s done to the inside of it. It’s embarrassing, Sebastian.”

  He squeezes my hand and kisses my cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Right.

  I am going to worry about it. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

  He hasn’t seen it.

  But he’s about to. And not just him, but Jenna and the security guys, too.

  Liam unlocks the door, and each of us has to squeeze through the opening, following a path that leads to the living space where Mom had a chair that faced the big windows that look out onto the surf.

  “Jesus,” Christian whispers, looking around the packed room. “I knew she was a hoarder, but I had no idea it had gotten this bad.”

  It looks like something from the TV show, Hoarders. She never threw anything away, even garbage. And she loved to shop online. Not only is there a pile of clothes still in their plastic in the dining room, there’s a pile of opened and empty boxes in the corner of the living room.

  It’s a mountain of cardboard.

  “I don’t want to know what’s in the kitchen,” Jenna says, covering her nose with her sleeve. The stench is bad enough to make your eyes water. I don’t know if it’s from her lying here dead for four days, or if it’s from all of the garbage. “This is a gut job, you guys. Christian, if you want to get your money back from this house, you’ll have to—”

  “I know.” He kisses her head gently. “I know, babe. Nina, is there anything here that you want to keep?”

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe she had jewelry or something? I don’t know.”

  “She pawned all of it.” Christian’s eyes widen in surprise. “I know I should have told you. She couldn’t hang on to money, you know that.”

  “So there’s nothing of sentimental value here?” Sebastian asks. I can’t help but acknowledge how damn incredible the man is. We’re standing in a shit hole, surrounded by blood stains from where she died, her filth, her mess, and it’s as though he’s not even affected by any of it.

  “No,” I confirm.

  “Wait,” Jenna says, “I saw a box in the hallway marked: pictures. You might want to take that.”

  “I’ll have it shipped to Montana,” Christian says with a nod. “And I’ll hire a team to go through the house. Anything of sentimental value like that will be sent to us. Everything else will be donated or trashed.”

  Christian is carrying a small purple velvet bag that contains her remains. They’re in a plastic box.

  We opted out of the urn since we planned to bring her immediately here.

  “Should we go outside?” he asks.

  “Yes.” I nod and follow him out onto the deck and down the steps to the beach below. It’s nice just to breathe some fresh air. If I can help it, I’ll never step foot back in that house.

  We’re definitely not alone on the beach, but this isn’t a popular spot for recreation, especially not this early in the day, so we’re not fighting any of the crowds common on the beach in southern California.

  We all kick off our shoes and walk down the warm sand to where the surf kisses the shoreline.

  “We’re here to say goodbye to our mother, Karen Jean Wolfe,” Christian begins, speaking loudly enough for us to hear him over the ocean breeze and the waves. “She was a complicated woman. I hope that after so many years of discontent, she’s resting peacefully in the afterlife.”

  He turns to me. “Would you like to say anything?”

  I look out on the horizon where a sailboat is drifting past. Do I have anything to say about my mother? I probably have too much to say. And not much of it is nice.

  So I just shake my head no and hold onto Sebastian’s hand with all my might.

  Christian opens the box and shakes the ashes out onto the sand. We watch as the water washes over them, sweeping them out to sea.

  And just like that, my mother is gone.

  ***

  “I hate watching you struggle like this.”

  Sebastian’s voice is a whisper in the night. We’re lying in bed in Christian’s house, and neither of us has slept. I feel him turn onto his side so he can watch me in the moonlight.

  “Your skin is beautiful under a full moon. Have I ever told you that?”

  “I don’t think so.” I turn to face him. We’re hugging our pillows, watching each other. Only our legs touch, tangled together under the covers. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me over the past couple of days.”

  “I haven’t done anything.” I hear the frustration in his voice. “All I’ve done is be with you, but I haven’t been able to help you feel better, or solve anything.”

  “There’s nothing to solve.” I offer him a small smile. “And you being here is the best thing you could do for me. I would have been an even bigger mess without you.”

  He reaches out and drags his fingertips down my cheek. “You still look like you’re torturing yourself. Her death wasn’t your fault, Nina. The doctor said so himself.”

  “I know. But I still feel guilty.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we stood out there today and dumped her ashes into the ocean, and I couldn’t even come up with one nice thing to say about her. Not one, Sebastian. I should have said something in that moment. I regret not doing it.”

  He pulls back, stands up from the bed, and pulls me up with him. “Then let’s go.”

  “What?”

  He pulls on some pants and a T-shirt and then tosses the sundress I wore earlier at me. “Let’s go back so you can say something.”

  “It’s three in the morning.”

  “So?”

  I blink at him. “So…we’ll have to wake up Nick and Liam. That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “They make a bleeding fuck ton of money to go where and when I tell them to, darling. Trust me, they’ll be fine.”

  And then he’s gone, out of the guest room to knock on Liam’s door.

  I hear them murmuring as I pull on my dress and slip into my sandals.

  “Let’s go,” Sebastian says when he returns.

  There’s not much traffic to speak of at three a.m., so getting back to Mom’s house doesn’t take long. We avoid walking through the house by instead walking on a path that runs beside the building and down some steps to the beach below.

  Nick and Liam both carry flashlights, illuminating our way down to the water. They hang back, just as they had this morning, and wait for us.

  “Go ahead,” Sebastian says, holding onto my hand. “Say whatever is on your mind.”

  “I’m so angry at you,” I begin. “For a thousand different things. For being a shitty mom, and for treating us like we were a meal ticket instead of your children. For making me feel guilty every single damn day of my life because you thought
I should do more for you.

  “And I’m angry at you for dying.” I swallow hard. “You’re going to miss so much, and I don’t even know if you would have cared. I mean, your son is an Oscar-winning actor, and your daughter is a successful publicist and married a freaking prince, and you didn’t care. Not really.

  “So, yeah. I’m angry. And I’m a little sad. I wish you’d been a happier person. I wish your life had been different, and you could have been happy. So I’ll just say this: I hope that wherever you are now, you’re finally at peace in your own mind and in your heart, Mom. I really do wish that for you. Because you were a tortured soul, and that had to be exhausting.”

  I take a deep breath, pulling in the salty ocean air.

  “How do you feel?” Sebastian asks.

  “Better,” I admit. “I should have said some of that when she was alive.”

  “You didn’t know she’d be gone so soon,” he says. He’s been amazing about soothing me. Trying to calm me. Just being available to listen. “And I truly believe that what they say is true, that everything happens for a reason.”

  And just like that, he’s pissed me right off.

  There’s going to be hundreds of platitudes from strangers. I don’t want them from Sebastian.

  I’m just so angry.

  But I don’t want to snap at him because he’s been so good to me. So swoony. So loving.

  “You’re quite patient with me, you know.”

  He smiles and kisses my forehead. It’s started to rain, but it’s warm and feels good.

  “It’s not difficult to be patient with you.”

  I frown. “Maybe you’re a little too calm.”

  He raises a brow. “Someone has to be calm.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” I pull away from him, ready to have a fight. I want a fight. I don’t care if it sounds fucked up, or that I most likely need about ten years of therapy.

  Bring it on.

  “That in times of crisis, someone has to stay calm,” he explains.

  “We’ve all been pretty calm, considering. And I appreciate you being nice to me.”

  “Darling, being nice to you isn’t a chore.”

  “Okay, I don’t know what your problem is.” I pace away from him in the sand, in the dark and the rain. It’s the middle of the night, and I’m starting a fight with a prince on the beach, but I don’t give a shit. “I don’t understand how it is that I’ve told you I don’t love you, and here you are, acting like the dutiful husband.”