Darling

XXXI

Sebastian

The picnic had started out as something simple. A break from the usual routine, a chance to enjoy the day with his daughters, and, he had hoped, some time to unwind with Clem. But even in this calm moment, his mind couldn't fully settle.

The twins were darting around, their energy endless, laughter ringing out in the bright afternoon. He watched them with a small, unreadable smile, but his attention was inevitably pulled back to Clem.

Her question earlier about his late wife had stirred something deep within him. It had been so long since he'd let himself think about her openly. He had told Clem so little about his past, about the woman he had once loved, about the life they'd shared, the life that had been ripped away too soon.

The rawness of that loss still lingered in him, a phantom pain he rarely allowed himself to feel. But Clem's curiosity, her subtle persistence, made him wonder if he could share more. If maybe, with her, he could confront it.

She was sitting now, watching the girls with that soft, thoughtful expression she often wore. Clem wasn't his wife, of course, but something about her reminded him of the way his wife had once looked, calm and full of quiet understanding, taking in the world with a kind of peaceful acceptance.

He shook his head, clearing away the thought. That wasn't fair to Clem. She wasn't someone to be compared to the past. She was her own person, a woman who was shaping a place for herself in his life, for reasons he still couldn't fully explain.

He moved toward her, his steps purposeful, and sat down next to her. His hand brushed against hers, almost accidentally. She looked up at him, as if startled, then smiled gently.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice softer than usual, the weight of the unspoken hanging between them. He wasn't sure if it was her question about his wife or the unsettling thoughts that came with it, but something about this moment felt fragile.

She tilted her head, her eyes locking with his. "Yeah, just thinking," she said, her voice low, almost like she was holding something back. "About us. About everything. How things have changed."

A sharp pang hit him, right in the chest. He wasn't one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but in that moment, Clem's honesty had disarmed him. She was right. Things had changed. A lot had changed. And for the first time in years, he couldn't tell where those changes were leading.

He exhaled slowly, taking her in. The way she was here with him, her presence an anchor he hadn't known he needed. "Things are changing, Clem," he said, his voice dropping even lower, a subtle tension threading through his words. "But not just for you. For me too."

Her gaze softened, and she leaned in, her hand resting lightly on his arm. She didn't speak right away, but he could feel the weight of her words, even if they weren't said out loud.

She understood. She didn't push him to say more. She just... waited.

The moment stretched on, and Seb realized with a strange clarity that he didn't want to lose it. The comfort of this quiet, unspoken understanding between them was something he didn't know he needed. And now, in this small corner of their world, he wasn't sure how to navigate it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the twins laughing, shrieking as they ran across the park, their childish joy breaking through the tension. He glanced back at them for a moment, feeling a shift in the air, a sudden lightness that reminded him how much he wanted to protect this. To protect her.

"Come on," he said, standing up, holding out his hand to her. "Let's get you something to eat. You need to keep your strength up."

She hesitated for just a second, but then took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet.