Chapter 4

"Stop being difficult." Sebastian held up the bag. "Here. I bought you some soup. Drink it while it's hot."

I brushed his hand aside. "No need. I already ate at the hospital."

He let out a small sigh and shoved the bag into my hands before sprawling onto the couch. My tiny sofa could barely contain him.

"Oh, right." He leaned back, completely at ease. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

I didn't respond, but that didn't stop him. "Vanessa's actually pretty interesting. I want to try dating her seriously for a while. So stop giving her a hard time, and I'll make sure she stays out of your way."

'Don't get angry. Don't ruin your health over a cheating bastard.' I repeated it silently, barely suppressing the urge to dump the soup over his head.

She had clearly been the one at fault, yet in his version of events, I was the one deliberately making trouble. 'What kind of person does he think I am?' I wondered.

"I'm tired. You should go," I said flatly, rising to usher him toward the door. But Sebastian insisted on watching me take at least one sip before leaving.

Reluctantly, I untied the bag. Instead of a bowl, a sticky note slipped into view, the handwriting instantly recognizable as Vanessa's.

Before I could react, Sebastian snatched it from my hand, crumpled it, and tossed it into the trash. "Girls are always like this when they're in love. Don't take it so seriously."

The atmosphere grew heavy. The note made it clear that Vanessa had wanted seafood chowder. Sebastian bought it for her and, at her suggestion, picked up an extra portion for me as well.

Without taking a single bite, I swept the untouched bowl straight into the trash.

I pulled out the garbage bag and handed it to him. "You're leaving anyway. Take this with you."

"If you didn't remember," I added evenly, "you could've just not bought it. I don't eat things meant for someone else."

"What do you mean by that?" Sebastian snapped. "What's that supposed to—"

I pressed a hand to my abdomen and sank back onto the couch, cutting him off. "If you don't want me back in an ambulance, take the trash and leave. Now."

Sebastian stood there in silence for a long time. Finally, he said something almost considerate. "Get some rest."

The door closed behind him.

Moisture seeped onto my toes—one drop, then another. I leaned back against the couch, drew in a shaky breath, and wiped away the tears.

The first time I met Sebastian, it was the dead of winter.

My foster father had been drunk again, as usual, taking out his anger on me. This time, he lifted a stool. Terrified that I might die, I mustered every ounce of courage, shoved him away, and ran.

Barefoot, I sprinted across the snow, his furious shouting echoing in my ears. Years of malnutrition made my vision blur almost instantly.

I slipped into filthy slush, and the enraged man dragged me back. In that moment, I knew what awaited me was nothing but endless darkness.

I screamed and struggled, panic clawing through me.

That was when Sebastian appeared. A backpack hung from his shoulder, as if he had just returned from the youth center across the street.

He was my age, yet without hesitation, he threw himself at a man several times his size.

Even though he didn't know me, and even when my foster father struck his forehead until it bled, he never let go. Instead, he yelled, "Run. Get out of here."

I've carried that moment in my memory for eighteen years.

Fortunately, a couple of adults passing by intervened. My foster father was taken to the police station, and Sebastian and I were brought home by his mother.

Sebastian's mother was an incredibly kind woman. His father had died early, and she had raised him on her own.

Mrs. Hayes helped me sever all ties with my foster father, gave me clean, comfortable clothes, and freed me from the nightmares. She even arranged for Sebastian and me to attend school together.

At school, Sebastian became my protector. Outside of school, his mother watched over us both.

They pulled me out of the mud. For ten long years, they gave me love, safety, and a life worth living until I could finally live like a normal person.

Falling in love with Sebastian felt inevitable, like it was always meant to happen.

I don't think anyone could have resisted the boy he was back then, especially someone who had never known warmth.

Even now, I still dream of him, the boy I knew back then, the one who saved me.

When I woke the next morning, most of my pillow was soaked.

I sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment, letting the remnants of the dream fade before I fully came to my senses.

My phone buzzed. I picked it up and saw Adrian's name. Swiping to answer, I heard his slightly hesitant voice.

"I-I made an extra pot of chicken noodle soup by accident," he said. "I happen to be nearby. Want me to bring some over?"

The lie was obvious. Whether he was heading to the office or going home, there was no way he'd actually be in my neighborhood.

"Sure," I said, though I wasn't sure if it was my imagination, but it sounded like he let out a quiet sigh of relief on the other end.

"I'll be there soon. Go wash up first," Adrian added.

I walked to the window, drew back the curtain, and saw a black Maybach parked by the curb, looking like it had been there for a while.

He really seemed to think I wouldn't remember anything about him.