“I didn’t really assault you, did I,” he said, confidently. “You were just saying that to get back at me.”
Is that why he’d begged me to come here? To call me a liar? A fantasist?
“No, Sebastian, you really did,” I replied with some heat. “You were drunk… I couldn’t… couldn’t stop you.”
I closed my eyes, and shivered at the memory.
“If you hadn’t passed out when you did… you scared me,” I said, looking him in the eye. “It reminded me of your…”
I bit my lip to stem the flood of my hasty words, but it was too late. He gasped.
“I reminded you of… of my father?”
I nodded, and his expression was stricken.
“You were really afraid to let me in your room just now? I scared you that much?”
I didn’t reply, leaving an appalled silence hanging in the air.
“Oh God! Caro… I never… I couldn’t…”
I stared at him doubtfully. The boy I’d known would never have hurt me – but he was long gone. I didn’t know who Sebastian was any more – he was a stranger.
“Fuck, Caro! I’m so sorry.”
He dropped his head into his hands again.
I beat back a long-dormant urge to comfort him, to hold him and tell him it would be okay. Instead I continued to stare at him, tracing the memories of ten, long years in the past.
My cellphone rang, which was a very welcome interruption.
“Chérie! I have been calling and calling you! Are you alright?”
“Oh, shit! Sorry, Marc. Yes, I’m fine. Really. You don’t need to worry.”
“Hmm, okay, you are still with him?”
“We’re just sitting in the lobby at my hotel. I’m good, really.”
“Bien, ma chère. If you say so. Call if you need me.”
“I won’t, but thanks, Marc. Have a safe flight and look after yourself – I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. Ciao.”
Sebastian frowned. “Was that your friend?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
I laughed, but without humor.
“Marc is a good friend. He was just… being concerned.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Actually, I think you’re more his type.”
Sebastian looked surprised. I’d known for years that Marc was gay, but he didn’t broadcast the fact – it wouldn’t have been good for his career.
“Did you… tell him about me?” he asked, quietly.
“Which bit?” I sighed. “It doesn’t matter: the answer is ‘no’ – it’s not anyone’s business but mine.”
I looked pointedly at my watch.
“Sebastian, it’s late and I’m tired. If you’ve got anything else to say to me, say it quickly. Otherwise I’m going to bed.”
He stared at his hands again.
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk,” he said, his voice quiet, almost humble. “It was just… a shock… seeing you again.”
“For me, too,” I said, softly.
He looked suddenly hopeful, and I regretted giving him a reason.
“Let me make it up to you, Caro. Let me take you out tomorrow. I could show you the city. I’ve been here for months – I know my way around pretty well.”
“I don’t think so…”
“Caro, come on. I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise – I know your travel permit hasn’t come through.”
I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know that?”
“Well…” He paused. “That was just the impression I got. You’d have been packing otherwise.”
There was something off about his tone, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. On the other hand, this whole conversation had been more than usually fraught.
“Please, Caro, I know some great Italian restaurants. It’ll be like…”
He hesitated, so I finished the sentence for him, “…old times?”
He gave a small smile. “Do you have anything better to do?”
I sighed, giving in. “No, I don’t. Fine. But one false move, Hunter, and you’ll regret it.”
He grinned hugely. “Yes, ma’am!”
I couldn’t help smiling back.
I was exhausted by the heated emotions that had been superabundant lately. A glass of wine sounded damn fine. I looked over towards the bar.