Parliament is going to a vote on Friday, and word has it that Sebastian is going to be elected as the next Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.
Tonight, we are meeting the gang at a restaurant for dinner. I’m ready, dressed, and waiting to go.
Where is he?
My phone beeps with a text from Sebastian.
Sorry babe, running late.
Kevin will pick you up in five minutes.
I’ll meet you there.
I reply.
Okay xo
The headlights swing into the driveway, and I grab my coat. Well, this is new, meeting his friends without him beside me. He’d better not be too late. I make my way out and smile at Kevin before I get into the backseat.
“Hello.”
“Hello, April. Lovely night, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
He reverses the car out and we pull into the street. I watch the traffic zoom by, and I think back to all those years ago when I was hiding around the side of Sebastian’s house while he went inside with Brandon.
Brandon, now, there’s a blast from the past. Sebastian hasn’t mentioned him to me at all. Hmm, I’ll have to remember to ask about him later.
Twenty minutes later, we pull up at the curb. Kevin parks and gets out of the car. He then opens the door for me.
“Have a lovely night,” he says with a warm smile.
“You, too. Thank you.” I make my way inside and look around. The restaurant is bustling. Chatter and laughter fill the space. There’s a big bar in the center of the room with chunky metal stools around it. Huge brass lights hang down low, creating a trendy vibe. I catch sight of Spencer at the back of the restaurant. On closer inspection, I see the others are sitting with him. I make my way over.
“Hello.”
“Hi.” They all smile.
Spencer pulls out the chair beside him and taps it.
“Thanks.” I slide into my seat. “How are you feeling?” I ask Bree.
“Oh God.” she winces. “I’m still not right, and I am never drinking again.”
“Big week, huh?” Julian says.
Spencer fills my glass with wine and passes it to me.
“I’ll say,” I agree.
“How’s he going?” asks Spencer.
“He’s okay.” I shrug. “Very busy and stressed, but that’s to be expected.”
“I still can’t believe that Theodore has died. Do they know any of the details? Was he murdered?” Charlotte asks.
“Good grief.” Spencer huffs. “Murdered? This isn’t an action movie, Lottie, calm down. Why do you think everyone is fucking murdered? If I go missing, you’ll all know who did it.”
Everyone laughs.
“I’m not sure about any of the details,” I lie. I don’t know what Sebastian has told them but I’m not oversharing.
Julian’s eyes hold mine and, once again, I’m reminded that if Sebastian knows something, Julian and Spencer do, too. He tells them everything.
The group continue to talk conspiracy theories. I look around the restaurant, it has a really cool vibe. My eyes roam over the crowd and then stop when I get to the bar. I see a familiar person sitting with another woman.
My blood runs cold.
Helena.
What is she doing here?
Sebastian walks through the front door, towering over everyone around him, and flanked by security. Wearing a dark suit and a pale blue shirt with tie, he looks as handsome as ever.
Sebastian Garcia cannot hide in a crowd and it has nothing to do with being the Prime Minister.
My eyes immediately drift back to Helena to see if she notices him. Right on cue, she glances up and sees him. Her face lights up, and she smiles softly.
Huh?
That doesn’t look like the face of the woman who hates him.
My skin begins to crawl.
I watch on as she stands and walks toward him. He glances up and his step falters when he sees her. She approaches him. Her face is hopeful, and then she smiles and says something. His security guards step forward and Sebastian holds his hand up to them as a warning to stay back.
Helena rises on her toes to kiss his cheek, but he turns his head away from her.
Cold and hard, in front of everyone who is watching.
My stomach twists. I know how much his dismissal hurts.
Helena drops her head.
God…
And for the first time ever, I feel sorry for her.
It’s one thing to have a marriage break down, but to fuck it up so badly with a man like Sebastian Garcia must take you to a new level of regret.
How would you ever forgive yourself for losing him?
I watch her, watching him.
“Shouldn’t it, April?” Brielle asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Oh, sorry.” I return my attention to her. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t hear you.”
“I said that sangria should be used as a weapon in war.”
I giggle and raise my glass to her. “Agreed.”
Sebastian appears at our table. “Hello.” He smiles and loosens his tie.
“About time, fucker.” Spencer smiles.
Sebastian sits down beside me and leans over to kiss my cheek. “Hello, sweetheart,” he whispers, his finger running up the back of my neck. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Hi.” I smile bashfully. God, he’s a beautiful man. I glance up to see the rest of the table and the restaurant for that matter, are watching our interaction. I blush, embarrassed. Sebastian reaches over and, in one sharp movement, pulls my chair toward him. He takes my hand and places it over his thick quad.
He picks up a menu. “Just so you all know, I’m eating everything in the house tonight. This is my breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
“You haven’t eaten at all today?” Charlotte gasps. “Sebastian, that’s so bad for you.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure he had a liquid lunch,” Spencer mutters dryly, raising a brow.
They continue talking, and my eyes fall back to Helena. She’s sitting back at the bar now, watching our interaction.
Have his friends seen her? Do they shun her, too?
Once upon a time, this would have been her sitting at this table in my place.
I wonder what it feels like to watch us from the outside.
I can’t imagine.
And for the first time, I get it. I get why she won’t walk away and leave him alone.
I understand why she’s hanging around and trying to cause trouble to gain his attention.
Because any attention from Sebastian Garcia would be worth it.
She’s still in love with him.
It's late, and we are lying in bed. Sebastian is watching the news, and I’m pretending to read. The reporters on the television are speculating about Theodore's death, going on and on and on about the possibilities and who will be voted in as the next Prime Minister.
But my mind is firmly on Helena.
I’m not sure if I should bring this up, but the poison is burning a hole inside of me. I have to say it out loud.
“Why didn't you tell me that Helena is still in love with you?” I ask quietly.
He pauses before answering, his gaze firmly on the television. “Because it doesn't matter.”
“To who?”
“To everyone. Least of all her.” He continues watching the television.