SEBASTIAN’S POV
His words were polite enough, but the tone left no doubt that there was more he wasn’t saying. Sasha glanced at me, her worry evident.
“Sebastian’s a good man, Dad,” she said, her voice firm. “I know you’re protective, but you don’t have to be so”
“It’s fine, Sasha,” I interrupted gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I understand where he’s coming from.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed slightly at my words, as if he were trying to determine whether I was genuine.
For now, I held his gaze, refusing to flinch under his scrutiny.
The tension lingered in the air as Sasha helped her father settle back against the pillows.
I busied myself unpacking the containers of food, arranging them on the small table. The act gave me something to focus on, a way to avoid the weight of her father’s gaze.
Sasha chatted with him as if trying to bridge the gap, her voice light and cheerful.
But I could feel her unease, the way her words came a little too quickly.
Her father’s responses were measured, his tone cautious. He didn’t say much, his attention shifting between Sasha and me as if trying to piece together a puzzle.
Finally, Sasha turned to me, her smile a little strained. “Sebastian, why don’t you tell Dad about the diner?”
It wasn’t a question so much as a plea, a subtle nudge to try and win her father over.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Of course.”
I launched into the story we’d agreed on, describing the fictional diner as if it were real.
I talked about the menu, the regular customers, the long hours. Sasha chimed in occasionally, adding little details that made the story more believable.
Her father listened, his expression unreadable. When I finished, he leaned back against the pillows, his gaze steady on mine.
“You’ve got quite the operation,” he said finally.
“Thank you,” I replied, keeping my tone even.
He nodded slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line. “But tell me something, Sebastian. A man running a business like that… how does he have time for my daughter?”
The question caught me off guard, but I didn’t let it show. “I make time,” I said simply.
“Sasha is important to me. I wouldn’t let anything get in the way of that.”
Her father’s gaze didn’t waver, but I caught the slight twitch in his jaw. Sasha stepped in before he could say anything else, her voice firm.
“Dad, Sebastian’s been nothing but wonderful to me,” she said. “I know you’re worried, but you don’t have to be. He’s”
“I just want what’s best for you,” he interrupted, his tone sharper than before.
“And I have that,” Sasha replied without hesitation.
SASHA’S POV
The sterile scent of antiseptic stung Sasha’s nose as she sat at the edge of her father’s hospital bed.
The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor filled the room, each pulse reminding her that he was alive but fragile.
For days, she had prayed for him to wake up, to see his eyes open again, and now that moment had come.
Yet, as she gazed into his weary but piercing eyes, the weight of his words threatened to crush her.
“Sebastian,” her father rasped, his voice hoarse and cracking from disuse, “he… shot me.”
Sasha blinked, the room tilting as her world began to unravel.
“What are you talking about?” she whispered, her voice trembling as her throat tightened. “Dad, you’re confused. You just woke up. You’ve been through so much”
Her father’s weak hand gripped hers, halting her frantic words. His touch was frail but firm, grounding her in the devastating truth he was about to reveal.
“I saw him, Sasha,” her father continued, his voice gaining strength with each syllable.
“I saw him kill a man. He saw me watching, and then… he turned the gun on me.”
Sasha’s heart plummeted. The walls seemed to close in on her as her father’s revelation settled in her mind. Her thoughts raced, each one more horrifying than the last.
No. It couldn’t be true. Not Sebastian.
Turning her gaze to Sebastian, who stood silent at the foot of the bed, Sasha searched his face for denial, for anger, for any sign that her father’s words were a cruel mistake.
But Sebastian’s expression was unreadable, his jaw clenched tightly as if holding back a storm of emotions.
“Sebastian,” her father said again, his voice sharper now, demanding an answer. “Who are you? Are you even really her husband, or was it all a lie?”
Sebastian remained silent, his dark eyes locked on Sasha’s father. The tension in the room grew unbearable, a suffocating weight pressing down on all three of them.
“Say something!” Sasha snapped, her voice breaking under the strain of her emotions.
She rose from her seat, her hands shaking as she turned to face Sebastian fully. “Tell him he’s wrong! Tell him you didn’t”
Sebastian opened his mouth as if to speak but hesitated, his lips pressing together in a grim line.
That hesitation was all the confirmation Sasha needed. Her breath hitched, and she stumbled back, as if his silence had struck her physically.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
Sebastian looked away, his silence deafening.
“Get out,” Sasha’s father demanded, his voice weak but filled with venom. “You’ve done enough damage. Get out of my sight.”
But Sasha was already moving. She grabbed Sebastian’s arm, her fingers digging into his suit jacket, and pulled him toward the door.
“Let’s talk outside,” she hissed, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.
Sebastian followed her without protest, his usual commanding presence diminished as if the weight of the accusation had finally caught up to him.
Once they were in the hallway, Sasha released him and took a step back, putting as much distance between them as she could.
“Tell me the truth,” she demanded, her eyes blazing with anger and betrayal. “Did you shoot my father? Did you put him in a coma?!”
Sebastian stared at her, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. For a moment, Sasha thought he might deny it, might try to salvage what little trust remained between them.
But then he lowered his gaze, his silence speaking louder than any words ever could.
Sasha’s breath came in shallow gasps as the full weight of his betrayal crashed over her.
This was the man she had trusted, the man she had married. The man she had fallen in love with despite all the warning signs, despite all the secrets he kept.
“How could you?” she whispered, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face. “How could you do this to me? To my family?”
Sebastian finally looked up, his expression one of anguish. “Sasha, I”
“No!” she interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him.
“I don’t want to hear it. Whatever excuse you have, whatever reason you think justifies this” Her voice cracked, and she took a shaky breath.
“You shot my father, Sebastian. My father.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” he said quietly, his voice laden with guilt.
“Didn’t have a choice?” Sasha repeated, her tone incredulous. “There’s always a choice! And you chose to pull the trigger!”
Sebastian stepped closer, his hands reaching out as if to comfort her, but Sasha recoiled, shaking her head.
“Don’t,” she said, her voice trembling. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them.
Sasha’s mind raced, memories of their time together flashing before her eyes. Every kiss, every promise, every moment of vulnerability,
they were all tainted now, overshadowed by the revelation of what he had done.