Happily Letter After Page 32
“Do you see yourself staying at that job?” he asked.
“As much as I might complain, I really do enjoy it. Couldn’t really imagine myself with a typical nine-to-five.”
“What happens if you find someone you want to spend your life with? Do you still do the dating column?”
His question made my heart flutter a little. “I’m not betting on that with my luck . . . but if it were to happen, then I wouldn’t do the dating column. It has to be organic. If my heart belonged to someone else, what would be the point in faking it out there? It wouldn’t work, and it wouldn’t be fair to my partner, either.”
“So you’d ask for a reassignment?”
His curiosity on the topic gave me what was probably a delusional sense of hope. “Yes. I’d probably just write in one of the other departments if they’d have me.”
“Like the Santa column . . .” He smiled. For the first time, I noticed he had subtle dimples.
“That’s seasonal, so it wouldn’t cover me for the whole year . . . but that one I’ll stick with regardless, as long as they’ll have me. It’s so gratifying.”
“I’m happy you love your job,” he said.
“Yeah, you know, because the dog-training thing . . . well, that’s not going anywhere.”
He chuckled. “Exactly.”
I finished off my wine and sighed. “Things could always be worse, you know? I’m not exactly where I thought I’d be at almost thirty. But I’m fortunate to be happy overall, healthy, and to have one part of my life right—my career.”
“And the other parts?”
“Well, I always thought I’d be settled by this age, maybe have a child. I’m not sure if that’s in the cards for me.”
He stared at me for a few moments, then said, “But you want it? You want the family, the house, the dog . . .”
Without hesitation, I said, “I do . . . but only if it’s with the right person.”
He nodded and seemed to be deep in thought. I wondered if he was thinking about Amanda, how he had had all those things at one time . . . the house, the family, the beautiful wife. But now she was gone. None of it really came together without your significant other, the one you love. And not having her around meant that he had to be both the mother and father to Birdie, which couldn’t have been easy, given his demanding job.
“Are you okay, Sebastian?” I felt compelled to ask. “I’m not referring to this moment, but I mean . . . in a general sense, handling the single-dad thing?”
“You mean, am I just pretending to hold it all together while really being depressed inside?” He stared off. “Honestly? Sometimes. But I make sure I keep going so fast that I don’t get swallowed up by the depression part. It’s just there in the background.”
I gulped, not sure what to say. “It must be hard to move on when you had such a great marriage. I know it was hard for my dad.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Birdie thinks her mom and dad had the perfect marriage. But my wife and I had our fair share of struggles. When my daughter was two, we actually separated for a while.”
My eyes widened. That was the last thing I’d expected him to say. I’d thought he had the perfect little family. “Wow. I had no idea.”
“Obviously, my daughter doesn’t know. And I’d really like to keep it that way.”
“Of course. I’d never say anything to her.” I shook my head. “Can I ask what happened?”
“I’m going to need more wine for this.” Sebastian refilled his glass and poured me another. Sighing, he said, “The restaurant took a while to become what it is today. We both worked a lot of hours, had a new baby. We put all our energy into the business and our daughter, and I guess at the end of the day, we didn’t have enough left to give our relationship the focus it needed. I’m partly to blame for that. But . . .” Sebastian sipped his wine. “I guess my wife needed someone to talk to about something other than money problems or diapers. And, well, she got close to a waiter at the restaurant. One night, they had a little too much to drink, and they got a little too close.”
“Oh God. I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “We tried to go to counseling, but I couldn’t seem to get past it. So after a few months, we separated. I moved out and got a small apartment nearby so I could still be near my daughter. We were just starting to adjust to living on our own when Amanda found out during a routine exam that her ovarian cancer was back. It put things into perspective. I’d never stopped loving my wife, and she needed me.”
“So you got back together?”
He nodded. “We had good years after that. But Amanda always thought the only reason that I made things work was because of her cancer diagnosis.”
“But it wasn’t?”
Sebastian smiled sadly. “I don’t know how things would have worked out had she not gotten sick. But it doesn’t matter. Sometimes in life you need a little push to get where you should be. Her illness was my push. We made it work, and I was in awe of the strength she had, watching her fight every day. I have a lot of guilt that she died thinking I only stuck around because she was sick.” He shook his head. “I did love her. I really did.”
I didn’t want to cry, but I had no control over the tears that seeped out.
When he noticed, a look of alarm crossed his face. “Oh shit. What have I done? I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Wiping my nose with my arm, I sniffled. “No. I’m sorry. It’s just . . . it’s sad but it’s beautiful, Sebastian. To have had someone you love in your life even for a short time is beautiful. It’s amazing that you found forgiveness for her and rekindled that love. And she’ll always live on through Birdie.”
“I don’t know what it is about you that makes me want to open up.” He rubbed his eyes. “Let’s move on to something lighter . . . okay?”
I searched my brain for something “lighter.” “Birdie swears that Marmaduke can say ‘hi.’”
His mouth transformed into a slight smile. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. We actually recorded it. Hang on.”
Taking out my phone, I pressed “Play” on a video I’d taken displaying Marmaduke making a noise that did sound suspiciously like “Hiiiiiiiiii.”
He chuckled. “I asked to move on to something lighter, not utterly ridiculous.”
We were both cracking up now, and thank God the sadness in the air seemed to have eased up a bit.
“Can I use your restroom?” I asked.
“Of course.”
My legs felt wobbly as I stood up and made my way to the bathroom. Splashing some water on my face, I looked at myself in the mirror. The wine was starting to hit me, and the physical and emotional toll of the night was as well. My attraction to Sebastian was almost painful. I just wanted to make him forget about everything for one night, but more than that, I also wanted him to want me. I was pretty sure he was attracted to me, but I was also pretty sure he respected me. And that meant he wouldn’t look at me as a one-night conquest. The latter very well may have been all he had the mental space for right now, which meant there would likely not be any room for someone like me in his life.