The Education of Sebastian

“I haven’t got anything of yours, Caro, please!”


“Sebastian!” I shook my head in disbelief.

“Please, Caro!”

“Fine! But you owe me, Hunter. That’s the second bra that’s gone missing in action on your watch.”

He grinned and threw my T-shirt at me.

When we were both dressed, he pulled open the door and we tiptoed down the stairs. Well, I tiptoed; he walked normally, glancing at me and shaking his head like I was a little crazy. I’d never snuck out of a boy’s bedroom before: it was more fun than I’d imagined.

Once we were out of the confines of the house and in the yard, I began to breathe a little more easily. Sebastian insisted on rolling the water barrel over to the fence to make it easier for me to climb over.

There was the faintest hint of gray light in the east and the air was chilly and scented with pine.

We leaned against the car, holding each other before the inevitable division that always came.

“Your buzz-cut is growing out,” I said, absentmindedly running my fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, I guess.”

It was clear his mind was elsewhere. “Can I come over tomorrow morning before work?”

“It is tomorrow,” I reminded him.

“Can I?”

“I guess so, but let me text you.” I frowned when it occurred to me that I had to face David now – or at some point soon. “Just in case.”

He sighed. “Okay. Love you, Caro.”

I hugged him more tightly then let him go. “I’ll see you later.”

“We’re always saying goodbye. I hate it, Caro.”

“It won’t be for much longer,” I said, with as much conviction as I could muster.

Getting in my car and driving away from him was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.



A few minutes later I was home: or rather, at the house where my soon-to-be-ex-husband slept. I certainly hoped he was asleep as I crept through the back door.

But then I froze. From the kitchen I could see a leg hanging off the end of the couch; it was clad in dress uniform.

Shit!

I took off my shoes and slunk past him barefoot, hardly daring to breathe. His snoring remained deep and regular, so when I reached the top of the stairs without incident, I gasped, feeling faint with relief.

Glancing into our… his bedroom, I noticed that the bed hadn’t been slept in. He’d come home so drunk he’d never even made it up the stairs.

Just like Estelle.

The clock on my bedside table informed me that it was 6 AM; I still had an hour before the alarm. I peeled off my T-shirt and jeans and slid under the cold sheets. I missed Sebastian’s warm body next to mine and couldn’t relax; instead of sleeping, I found myself staring dry-eyed at the ceiling for the best part of an hour.

Five minutes before the alarm was due, I gave up and headed for the shower. The hot water soothed and revived me, and then I spent a few minutes rubbing in moisturizer and body lotion. I’d better start looking after my skin more carefully if I was going to have a boyfriend who was so much younger than I was. It didn’t seem likely that a bit of palm oil could help enough, but I was prepared to try pretty much anything – anything that I could afford – which wasn’t saying a lot.

As I stared in the mirror, examining the fine lines around my eyes and searching for any gray hairs, I noticed a small, oval bruise above my left breast. Oh, my God! A hickey! I hadn’t had one of those in years! Well, make that over a decade. In fact I wasn’t completely sure that I’d ever had one. What was that boy’s name who’d asked me out the semester before I met David? Kevin? Colin? I remembered he’d tried to make out with me in the movie theatre, but I’d been more interested in watching the film.

I made a mental note to remind Sebastian that biting was out until we’d got to New York. Pity.

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