Page 44 of Best Kept Vows (Savannah’s Best #6)

Sebastian

I watched as Lia, lost in thought, swirled the pinot noir in her glass, the red liquid dancing slowly in graceful loops.

We were having dinner at home. I’d cooked steak with parsnip puree, and spicy collard greens.

It was ironic how my idea of home had transformed.

That once-grand house—an opulent sanctuary that I had spent years striving to preserve at any cost—had become nothing more than a distant memory, a relic of a life I had easily left behind.

Our evenings had settled into a comforting rhythm. Dinners filled with gentle conversation, moments of unrestrained laughter, and stretches of contemplative silence where the unspoken was as meaningful as words.

Amidst the comfort of our shared routine, I had unraveled and learned more about myself.

I lifted the glass to my lips, taking a measured sip of wine before placing it back with deliberate care, my fingers tapping lightly on the delicate stem. “I want to go back to school,” I confessed.

Lia’s eyes lifted to meet mine, and she asked softly, “To…?”

“Study psychology. I haven’t figured out the exact path or specialty yet, but I feel this pull—this need—to help people live fuller, more meaningful lives.

” I let out a small, self-conscious laugh.

“It sounds kind of lofty, I know. But working with Dr. Ryan…the way she helped me see myself, to change, to actually feel happy—it made me want to do that for someone else. To be that kind of light in someone’s life. ”

Lia regarded me thoughtfully. “I think you’ll make an excellent therapist.”

“You do?” That surprised me. “I didn’t pay any attention to you or your needs, so?—”

She placed a hand gently over mine. “Sebastian, honey, we can’t keep living in the past. You do listen to me.

You’re a wonderful listener. Just last week, you helped me pull together that presentation—took the whirlwind in my head, all abstract—and shaped it into something clear, something I could actually share. ”

Her compliment gutted me and built me up all at the same time.

I remembered the days when I didn’t stand by her, didn’t support her—and now I was proud of myself for being her friend, confidante, and lover.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I ran into Stacy the other day,” Lia suddenly said.

“Where?”

“At the Savannah Wine Cellar. She told me things weren’t great at Boone Metals. She heard it from some people.”

Stacy left two weeks after I resigned, whereas Marek and the others walked out on the day of the executive meeting. Bryce had tried to bully them, demanding a two-week notice, but since their contracts didn’t require that, he only succeeded in pissing them off more.

I released a weary sigh. “The company is falling apart. Bryce is driving it into trouble faster than even I imagined.”

I knew that Bryce would be a disaster, and he was.

“It’s so bad that he tried to hire Jane back. She said, ‘ No thank you .’”

Lia drank some wine. “What was going on with Jane?”

“I have no fuckin’ idea, baby. I don’t know how she got the wrong idea, simply because we worked together. But her behavior was so unprofessional and inappropriate that she’s lucky we didn’t sue her for sexual harassment. That would’ve made her virtually unemployable.”

Jane had landed on her feet. It had taken her a couple of months, but she’d gotten a job in Michigan and had left Savannah. I was happy to know that there wouldn’t be any accidental run-ins with her.

“Were you attracted to her?” Lia asked.

I frowned. “Why do you ask? ”

Lia shrugged. “Just…she’s a good-looking woman.”

I smiled. “I noticed. Jealous?”

She rolled her eyes and then added thoughtfully, “Not of how she looked, but yes, of the time you spent with her.” She raised a hand when I was about to speak. “I know. I know. It was only work. Still, she had you, and I didn’t.”

I weighed my words before speaking. “Baby, not once, since I met you, have I wanted another woman sexually…well, not counting Scarlett.”

She burst out laughing.

I chuckled. “Do you know that Scarlett Johansen is considered beautiful by men and women because her face is bilaterally symmetrical?”

“I did not know that.” Lia’s eyes brightened. “Has someone been brushing up their psychology basics?”

“Yes. And, according to how our brain works, a woman who is symmetrical makes men think, subconsciously, that she experienced relatively low oxidative stress in the womb, meaning she is more likely to be healthy, which means that she is more likely to be fertile, and that if the man breeds with her, he will have a higher chance of spreading his DNA.”

“ Breeds with her?”

I raised my hands, palms up. “What can I say? That’s what the?—”

My phone rang, and I saw Hendrix’s name. I answered immediately and saw concern flash in Lia’s eyes. My father was fading. We saw it when we visited with him—and were waiting for the call that either said his time was close or that he had passed.

Lia’s hand reached gently for mine, her squeeze conveying silent support as I talked to Hendrix.

I exhaled a long, shaky breath, the comfort of my wife’s presence helping to steady me amid the storm of my emotions.

According to Hendrix, the great Abraham Boone was taking his last breaths and had asked his family to come to him.

I closed my eyes briefly, and said, “We’ll be right there.”

Lia didn’t need clarification. She carefully laid her napkin on the table, rose gracefully, and moved to take my hand.

“I’ll drive,” she murmured.

She called the kids on the drive over to let them know that their grandfather was probably on his last leg.

“Dad, you want me to come over?” Ada asked.

“Yes, please.” I needed my family with me.

“It’s going to take me an hour, but I’ll be there,” my daughter assured me. “Mama, is he okay?”

By he , I knew she meant me.

“He will be,” Lia replied.

“I’ll check on flights,” Tristan whispered. “You take care of each other.”

I felt their generosity, their love, their affection, and their warmth.

I was one lucky motherfucker, I thought, to have this. I was never going to squander it again, never neglect it. I would nurture all of us, I vowed, as my father had never been able to do his family.

I wouldn’t make his mistakes—instead, I’d learn from them.

When we arrived at the house, the ambiance was heavy, almost suffocating, with every corner steeped in unspoken grief.

Hendrix met us at the door and led us quietly to my father’s suite.

The room was dimly lit, with drawn curtains muting the outside world. It was also filled with the constant, low hum of a medical device—a stark reminder of the fragile line between life and its inevitable end.

Dad lay in bed, frail and diminished—a shadow of the man who once commanded boardrooms and inspired unwavering perfection. His skin was as pale as worn parchment, his breaths shallow and uneven, each inhale a quiet surrender to time.

“Where are my mother and sister?” I asked softly.

Hendrix tilted his head toward the hallway. “In the parlor. He’s already talked to them.”

“And?”

“Dolly was upset. Bryce got angry. Coco was crying.” Hendrix’s tone was flat. He didn’t like how we all treated our father—but then, he hadn’t known Dad in his prime. He’d only seen him after the stroke.

Dad had affairs. He wasn’t a good father—in fact, he was completely absent from our lives except when he ordered us around .

He’d approved of Bryce, partly because of his old Savannah family name but also because he hadn’t known that they’d squandered the generational wealth.

He hadn’t approved of Lia—no Savannah old money there. Ultimately, he’d estranged himself from all of us except Lia, who had a heart so big that she’d shamed us all.

It was time for me to learn from her—to be the bigger man.

I sat next to my father on the bed, gently taking his hand.

To my surprise, his feeble fingers responded with a determined squeeze, a tender yet final connection that reached across the gulf of fading strength.

Lia settled herself at the other side of the bed, her hand resting gently on Dad’s arm as if to offer a final measure of comfort.

With great effort, his eyes fluttered open. Their once-bright blue had dulled, yet they still held a focused clarity as they found mine. A faint twitch of his lips hinted at a smile—a nostalgic echo of a time when joy was more abundant.

I’d hated this man even as I had loved him, and measured my manhood against him—given into ego and pride. But he’d been the one who had set me free when he told me to take care of Lia and sell the company.

The word caught in my throat, but I still choked out, “Dad.”

His voice, ragged and barely above a whisper, struggled to form words. “Proud…of you,” he managed, each word drawn out in deliberate, painful fragments.

“Not…because of Metal,” he continued haltingly, as if ea ch syllable was a monumental effort. “But…because…you chose happiness.”

I tightened my grip around his weakening fingers, desperate to hold onto that whispered affirmation.

“Lia, thank…you,” Dad said, turning to look at my wife.

She smiled through her tears. “You take care now, Abraham. And sleep well.”

He chuckled—actually, chuckled —and my heart eased a little. He was happy as he was dying, and no one could ask for more than that.

“Seb…as…” His breathing became erratic.

“Dad—” I began, but his hand squeezed mine one last time.

Then, with a final, shuddering breath, his chest rose slowly—then fell—and it never rose again.

Lia wrapped herself around me, her touch serving as a lifeline amidst the overwhelming emptiness.

I bowed my head, pressing my forehead tenderly against my father’s lifeless hand, my body shaking with grief.

Time became an indistinct blur as I sat with him, minutes stretching into what might have been hours.

Despite the pain, a profound, bittersweet relief, unexpectedly, stirred within me. He was no longer bound to a failing body.

Turning my gaze to Lia, who offered me an understanding look, I admitted hoarsely, “I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”

Her fingers curled gently around mine as she whispered, “ I know.”

I exhaled a shaky, sorrowful breath, nodding in acceptance. Then, with quiet sincerity, I added, “Thank you for being here, Lia.”

Her hand tightened in reassurance, and she vowed, “I’ll always be here, Sebastian.”