Which was why she wanted to kick herself when she had doubts.
They never talked about their relationship. Never discussed if it was a real marriage, or if it was still pretend-with-bonus-sex-now-included. They were friends, of course. She’d stopped texting Pisa her every thought as they hit her and instead found herself spending more time with Sebastian, asking him about new soap orders or sharing a derby anecdote with him. It was Sebastian who went skating with her at the park. It was Sebastian who held her when she woke up at night from a nightmare flashback. It was Sebastian who assured her that things would be all right. Her world was full of Sebastian, and it was wonderful.
But was she just clinging to him because Pisa had left her? Was she a sad sack who had to cling to someone and he was just her most recent someone?
More than that, she worried she was attaching way too much to the relationship. That she was the one with the feelings. Sebastian was a private sort of person, and he tended to keep things bottled up. She still hadn’t approached him about doing Gretchen’s portrait. The last time she’d mentioned his art, he’d grown so uncomfortable that he’d shut down and she’d switched subjects. He had trouble opening up, and she got it. She knew that Pisa had a hard time talking derby with people, especially after being dumped over it.
And Chelsea had her own skeletons in her closet. She’d never judge him.
But every time he called her “love,” she wondered. What of their relationship was real and what was in her imagination?
*
Sebastian was at one of his rock-climbing meet-ups with Hunter when Chelsea got a mysterious text from Sebastian’s mother. She’d opted to go shopping for more soap supplies, looking for different strains of rose scents to make some test soaps for Gretchen as requested. They were still a long way off from the wedding, of course, but Chelsea liked to plan ahead. Plus, okay, she liked experimenting with her soaps, and this was going to be an especially fun experiment.
They hadn’t heard from Sebastian’s mother since the big “confrontation” on camera. How she’d gotten Chelsea’s personal phone number, Chelsea wasn’t sure. But there was no mistaking that the unknown-number text was from her.
Unknown: We need to have a private conversation, away from Nugget. I need you to meet me at this cafe. Come in disguise. This is urgent. Don’t tell my son we’re meeting, either. That will only be worse for you.
Well, gee. That was all kinds of ominous. The cafe was just around the corner, though. Chelsea quickly texted her back, saying she was on her way. It might be a mistake, but since she was already out, she might as well see what the woman wanted.
Then she could tell Sebastian all about it, and he could step in, if needed. But Chelsea wasn’t afraid of a little confrontation. If she had to personally tell “Mama Precious” Cabral that she needed to step off, she would.
Chelsea entered the restaurant and looked for a familiar head of gray hair streaked with bold colors, and a cluster of cameras. She didn’t see anything, so headed for the bar to wait. Rufus was her ever-present shadow. He never talked to her, just kept a few paces behind. She watched as he sat at the other end of the bar and nodded at her. She must have gotten there ahead of Mrs. Cabral. Chelsea set her bags down on the stool next to her and smiled at the bartender, but before she could order a water, someone approached from the other side.
“Psst.”
Chelsea turned, and stared.