Chapter 525 Don’t have to pretend

—

Viola couldn’t tell if he could actually see her from this distance, but he stared anyway, their eyes locked together for a long moment, and she felt warmth settle inside her before he dismissed whoever he’d been speaking with and made his way inside, looking away from her.

Viola set down the hot cup of coffee she’d been holding and went to find him, knowing he wouldn’t come to their penthouse yet, even though he was back early. Maybe she’d put this off for far too long already, giving him all this time and space when what he really needed was someone to make him face what he was feeling.

“It’s time we talk some sense into your father, babies. He’s hurting himself, punishing himself over something he never could have changed, no matter what he did,” Viola murmured to her babies, or perhaps mostly to herself.

She grabbed her coat and stepped out buttoning up.

—

Sebastian hadn’t gone back to their penthouse. He hadn’t gone anywhere near the people still mourning downstairs either, unwilling to hear another word about how no one could seem to move past it and be reminded of things he didn’t want to be reminded of.

People grieved in different ways, and Sebastian had stayed far away from Silver the whole of today, wanting to avoid them along with his relatives and his wife’s guests who had filled the entire place. If it weren’t for her alone, Sebastian knew he would have thrown everyone out, but for his wife, he was allowing a lot of things he normally wouldn’t have tolerated.

She had not only invited his grandmother but also his aunties, his mother’s sisters, whom he hadn’t spoken to in a long time.

His wife found him out on the balcony, long after everyone else had already gone down to the big hall for dinner.

He stood with his elbows braced against the railing, a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers. The night wind carried most of the smoke away from him, though a faint trace of it still lingered in the air as he watched the snow continue to fall.

Viola stopped in the doorway, watching the smoke drift and curl around him, and her brows shot up.

“Since when do you smoke?” she asked quietly.

He glanced down at the cigarette, almost as if he’d forgotten it was even there in his hand, before turning to look at her over his shoulder.

“Since recently.”

“You never used to smoke,” Viola said, walking up to join him and coming to stand beside him on the terrace to watch the snow fall together.

He shrugged. “People change, honey. Pick up new habits along the way. And mind you, I tried smoking in my teenage years but quit because Alex doesn’t smoke, and it would make our switch then complicated.”

Viola turned toward him, studying his face and noticing how calm his expression stayed, the same calm he always carried around her specifically, even while everyone else described him as a ticking time bomb some people had started actively avoiding because one wouldn’t know when he would snap now.

“So now you want to pick the habit back up, I see,” Viola muttered, looking at the cigarette between his slender fingers.

“You don’t like it?” He arched a brow at her, and she shook her head.

“It doesn’t bother me, but it makes me wonder why all of a sudden you picked the habit back up.”

The corner of his lips curled up as he took a drag from the cigarette and blew the smoke away from her direction.

“What are you implying by that, wife, hmm?”

Viola watched him, the smoke curling around him and making him seem more distant to her, like he wasn’t her Sebastian and she pursed her lips.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Seb. I’ve given you plenty of time to come out and talk to me about it, but I think that might’ve been a mistake. I should have pushed us to talk about this sooner. I know you’re hurting, and—”

He let out a quiet breath that came out almost like a laugh.

“I’m not hurting, amor. I’m perfectly fine, just stressed that Nick’s body, dead or alive still hasn’t turned up. What makes you think I’m hurting?” He glanced at her sideways.

“You lost a family member. That’s bound to hurt somebody, unless they’re completely heartless. I hurt too, Seb. Will you please talk to me?” she asked softly, studying his profile.

His face turned toward her almost instantly at her words, their eyes locking for a long moment as the wind howled softly somewhere behind them.

His jaw tightened, and for a second, Viola noticed something close to pain flicker across his face, but he looked away before she could hold onto it. The cigarette slipped from between his fingers, and that same hand reached out to take hers instead, their fingers interlocking, his thumb moving slowly over the back of her hand.

Viola watched his profile and slowly moved closer until he pulled her back against his front, bringing their joined hands to rest over her stomach. Right at that moment, one of their babies kicked, and his hand jerked away from the spot as though startled. Viola would have smiled at that if the moment hadn’t felt so heavy, if he’d been smiling too, but he remained serious.

This was the closest they’d come to holding each other intimately in months, and she let her back settle against his chest as he stared down at her stomach from behind her, as though only now realizing how much of its development he’d missed entirely.

But rather than returning his hand to her belly, he wrapped both arms around her instead, pulling her into a hug, his jaw settling against her shoulder.

“Have you eaten?” he asked quietly, and Viola realized, a beat too late, that he was steering the conversation away from his own feelings yet again.

“Not dinner yet. I was hoping we could eat together tonight. Everyone is having a public dinner, but I am not in for it. However, first, tell me what you’re feeling. You’re allowed to cry, you know. It’s perfectly normal. Everyone cried today in that hall,” she told him, feeling his breath fan warm against her neck, tickling her a little.

Sebastian looked back out into the snowy night, and when he finally spoke, his breath came out visible in the cold air.

“I don’t feel like crying. It’s like I’ve lost the ability to do it altogether, amor. I don’t even know how anymore. You can’t pour water from an empty cup.”

“Don’t you feel sad about losing her?” Viola asked, realizing he was referring to himself as the empty cup, as though there was simply nothing left inside him to pour out anymore.