For now, it was enough to hear his voice. I found that at night, while I was alone, that I longed for him to be beside me.
Unfortunately, his own feelings were a complete mystery. For all I knew, he could have been glad to be away from me. He never said anything to the contrary, not did I risk asking him. I was too afraid of his response.
Karina even seemed to be warming to me, though our relationship was tepid at best.
I could tell that the news of George's swift engagement rocked her, as their lawyers were still ironing out the details of their divorce. I felt sorry for her, and though she talked about her feelings as often as her son did, I could tell that she was grieving the loss of her own relationship. She talked about her 'Bast' often. How he was as a child, his first day on the job, and when he left for college.
It was the only time I saw her truly happy. To be honest, I enjoyed those conversations. I liked hearing all about how my husband was a child. An impudent little thing, and obstinate, he’d always been at the top of his class in marks, he’d always spoken about taking over George’s business.
‘Budget’ was his first word, Karina remember, and it was one of the few times I saw her actually chuckle.
We stayed up late one evening, right around the three week mark, drinking wine and planning a small party for Sebastian's return.
We'd both had a bottle each, and Karina had actually managed a smile here and there. It was a foreign look, coming from her. I wasn't even sure she knew how to do it anymore. When she did smile though, she looked unmistakably like her son.
"I know that I've been harsh on you." She finally said, swirling her wine glass thoughtfully, "It's only because I stood where you are now thirty years ago. I thought I could change George, leash him, make him mine." She turned her head to watch me, familiar frown on her face, "Some men are never to be tamed, however."
"I don't even know where Sebastian and I stand, honestly." I responded with a sigh, sinking lower in my chair as I crossed my ankles, "It's all so confusing."
Karina smirked and lifted her glass, "Here, here." She chimed, downing the entire goblet of red wine. Shiraz, her favorite.
"Do you think there's hope for me and him?" I asked her honestly.
Sure, this was a conversation I should be having with my husband and not his mother, but it had been niggling so much in the back of my mind. I wanted answers, and it boiled inside of me like a pot threatening to overflow. A month had been too long to wait.
I wanted to know if Sebastian had any feelings at all for me, I wanted to know if we would ever fall in love, I wanted to know if he and I were meant to be.
I wanted to know if I was going to be stuck in an emotionless marriage forever. Surely nights like the steamy one we spent together were indicative of something positive, right?
Karina stood, walking to me and taking my empty glass, "I think you two will come to some sort of compromise." She responded with a firm nod, smiling at me as though that were supposed to be comforting.
Then, she walked away, dropping the glasses on the kitchen table and leaving me alone.
That night, I slept restlessly, going over the conversation I wanted to have with Sebastian endlessly.
I would demand to know where we stood, I would demand to know if he cared for me at all, I would demand answers instead of vague deflects. Unfortunately the hardest part of this was waiting the week for him to return. A conversation like this was something I wanted to discuss face to face, not over a five minute phone call window.
The next morning, I woke sick to my stomach with nerves. By the time I walked down to the dining room for breakfast, I was a bundle of anxiety and Sebastian wasn’t even due home yet. I could have almost puked all over the table.
Perhaps my queasiness was just from the vast amounts of wine I'd consumed with Karina.
Speaking of my mother in law, she was nowhere to be found. Maybe she was laid up in bed with a hangover too.
"Just tea." I told Tricia, gratefully accepting the minty drink.
It eased my stomach a bit, though thoughts of Sebastian’s return in a few days sent it into a flurry again.
How was I going to make it through a whole week of this?
A knock on the door made me turn to look over my shoulder. One of the staff opened the door, and a blond head strode in through the front door.
"Is Macy home?" Lewis Carson's deep voice ran through the hall.
I stood, confused, setting down the cup of tea as I walked into the foyer.
"Lewis?" I said, "Is everything alright?" My heart raced, imagining my bakery up in flames or Harry having a heart attack or some terrible, awful, horrid thing happening.
"Everything's fine." Lewis replied quickly as my face pursed in fear. He held up his hands, dimple in his cheek popping as he smiled, "I just need to talk to you for a moment."