“Just what?”
“Just some shit my dad was talking. It’s nothing.”
“Tell me!” I said forcefully.
Sebastian looked at me angrily.
“My dad said you were a hot piece of tail and that you wouldn’t be such an uptight bitch if your husband had been fucking you properly.”
I felt sick.
I walked to the kitchen sink, and leaned over it.
“Is that… is that what people think of me?” I murmured.
“No! God no! My father is an asshole, Caro. No one thinks that. Mitch, Bill, Ches: they all think you’re great. I mean, yeah, they think you’re gorgeous, who wouldn’t, but I promise they’ve never ever said anything like that.”
I straightened up slowly and turned around to face him. He was standing with his arms out-stretched as if he wanted to touch me but was afraid to.
“Are you hungry?”
He was confused by the sudden change of topic, away from my self-flagellation.
“Hungry?”
“Yes. Did you eat at the club tonight?”
His hands fell to his side and for a second he closed his eyes tiredly, before walking towards me and taking me into his arms.
I tried to resist, still raw from his father’s words.
“Caro, don’t push me away.”
He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held me.
“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry I told you what that asshole said. Hell, you should hear what he calls me sometimes… well, maybe not. I don’t listen anymore. All that matters is that we’re together, okay?”
I didn’t answer.
“Okay?” he said again, more forcefully.
I took a deep breath.
“Okay,” I agreed, quietly.
He kissed my hair and smiled down at me.
We stood there for some minutes, just enjoying a moment of peace.
“So, are you hungry?” I said at last. “Did you eat tonight?”
He rolled his eyes at me and I had to smile.
“No, we were slammed – I didn’t have time.”
“I’ll fix you something to eat: linguini, pesto and pine nuts okay?”
“You don’t have to cook for me, Caro,” he said frowning slightly.
“I want to. Besides, you haven’t eaten… and you’ll need your energy.”
I grinned up at him and he gave in with good grace.
“Well, in that case, yeah, I’m starving.”
He pulled out a chair and sat at the table watching me.
“So, how was work? Anything interesting happen today?”
I was determined that we would have some normal conversation.
“I did that First Aid training certificate this morning. It was all stuff I’d done at the surf lifesaving club, so it was pretty easy. I’ll be mostly working poolside with Ches from now on.”
“You don’t like waiting tables?”
“Not so much: I’d rather be outside.”
“Are you sure it’s not just a chance to impress bored, horny Navy wives with your gorgeous body?”
“There’s only one woman I want to impress,” he said, returning my smile.
“How’s that going for you?”
“Well, it was a bit-touch-and-go for a while, but she’s making me dinner, so I guess it’s going okay. How was your day?”
“Good. I finished another article and have planned out three more. I was afraid I might run out of material, but I’ve got enough ideas to write a whole book, I think. Oh, and I looked up some photography courses at NYU. Have you decided which classes you want to take in the Spring?”
When he didn’t answer, I looked up from the chopping board: Sebastian was sitting, rocking back on the chair, a huge smile on his face.
“What?”
“I love it when you talk like that?”
It was my turn to be confused.
“Like what?”
“When you’re talking about stuff we’re going to do together: about our future.”
I dropped the torn basil leaves and looked directly at him.
“Sebastian, I didn’t have a future until you got me thinking about one. God knows how long I’d have carried on drifting. But you have to promise me something…”
“Anything: I’ll promise you anything.”