The good news was, Sebastian and I were pros at the whole friends with benefits thing. And despite the knowledge that these things never worked when one party (me) had feelings, it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. As long as we agreed to keep it casual, everything would be fine. Probably.
Another thing I knew, something I could barely acknowledge, was that I couldn’t let him stay for us. As much as I wanted him to, I couldn’t see a way for it to work out long term. One day he would regret staying if he did it for me and-or for Priscilla.
I’d seen the look on his face when he talked about his time in the Peace Corps—the same look he had on his face in that exact moment as his story continued. That was where he wanted to be. That was his future.
I’d rather pine over him from the other side of the world than live through the possibility of him resenting us for stealing the life he wanted. He’d ended a marriage over this very thing, and I didn’t think so much of myself that I’d be exempt from the same fate as Marnie. Of course it’d be different, but the bones were still the same.
If I brought it up, he’d deny the possibility. He’d argue. But he couldn’t erase over a decade of staunch insistence that this was not the life he wanted. And I didn’t want to be on the hook when he figured it out.
More than that—I didn’t want Priscilla to endure that rejection.
He couldn’t stay here out of obligation or we’d both regret it.
So I had to keep him at arm’s length, knowing I couldn’t have him, not like I wanted. But that just so happened to be my specialty.
“I’m glad you didn’t work this morning,” he said, plating hash browns.
“Me too.”
“And that your mom was okay keeping Priscilla.”
The sound of him saying her name did something curious to my uterus. “You know Mom—she’s always the first to help. Plus, the two of them love their Nonnie time.”
“Nonnie, huh?”
“I don’t know where it came from, but it’s what grandmas have been called in my family since ever. I think it might be Italian.”
“Wonder how my mom will feel about being called Abuela,” he mused.
“I have a feeling she’ll like it.”
“Me too.” Once the eggs and bacon were in place, he strode over and placed one of two plates in front of me. “What time should I come over?”
My heart pitter-pattered. “Well, I need to get home and prep my family—it was too late last night and early this morning—but any time after that.”
“Are you going to tell her before I get there?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “What do you think?”
A pause. “I think I have no idea how to handle this. I’ve gotta defer to you on this one.”
I thought about it for a moment, ignoring that sad, sinking feeling at what he’d said. “It might be easier if I tell her first and let her know you’re coming over. That way I can field her questions, and you can come in once she’s settled down and just hang out.”
“Works for me.” He salted his eggs and tucked in.
Say it. Say it and put an end to the anticipation.
“So, I was thinking about us,” I started.
But before I could continue, he said, “Me too.”
I smiled sadly at him. “Our timing sucks.”
He smiled sadly back. “It does.”
“But I … well, I don’t know how to be here with you without being with you.”
“Neither do I.”
Oh, sweet relief. I smiled. “As per the usual, if we want to be together, it’s got to be temporary. Nothing serious. So, if you’re interested, I think we should do what we always do. Friends with benefits.”
Something in his face shifted with a slight quirk of one of his brows, but I couldn’t quite read him. He was thinking a hundred things, but only said, “Why?”
I drew a painful breath, but I did what I always did when things got real—I cracked a joke. “For starters, Marnie might actually chuck a bucket of pig’s blood on me in town square when she finds out about us.”
That earned me a chuckle, but he still had that look on his face. “I’d be more worried about a voodoo curse than pig’s blood.”
“I’ll make sure we’ve got a black rooster and plenty of goats on the farm, just in case.”
“You know it’s over with her and me, right?”
“Of course. But—as she made sure to point out—you’re technically still married. And you’re leaving in a few months.”
The curious look turned into frown. “I don’t know about that anymore.”
I felt the heat on my face and swallowed hard, but I put that smile on like the goddamn professional I was. “Come on, Bas—you’re not going to throw away the Peace Corps and your dream. That’s crazy.” He didn’t look convinced, so I kept going. “You have to go.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” he countered.
“Fine, but you should go.”
He watched me for a minute. “Do you want me to stay?”
“I want you to be happy, and leaving will make you happy.”
“What if there are other things that will make me happy here?”
The fluttering in my ribcage wasn’t butterflies—it was a cauldron of spooked bats. “You don’t know how long staying here will make you happy. What you do know is that leaving will. We’ll be here when you get back.”
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“Well, I’ve had a little more time than you to process. So remember when you deferred to me about Cilla?”
He nodded.
“Trust me on this one too. And let’s spend so much time together this summer that we want to choke each other by the time you leave.”
When he laughed, I breathed a little easier. “I don’t hate the thought of spending all my time with you. And Priscilla too.” He paused. “She goes to bed early, right?”
“Yes,” I said on a laugh.
“Perfect—nights are mine.”
He leaned in for a kiss, and it was almost sweeter than it’d been last night, now that the unpleasant business of the future was behind us.
When he broke away, it was to gaze at me with depthless eyes. He swept a lock of hair over my shoulder.
“Friends with benefits, huh?”
“Better than just friends, right?”
“If those are my options, then yes.”
I smiled, sliding closer. “It’s going to be a summer for the books.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less, not when it comes to you.”
I didn’t know what else to say, so I kissed him to cover my heartache.
It’s better this way, you’ll see.
I only hoped I was right.
9
Little Girl
PRESLEY
Priscilla eyed me. “You messing with me, Mama?”
I laughed, though my eyes were teary. “I’m not messing with you, baby.”
“I has a daddy?”