Page 46 of Best Kept Vows (Savannah’s Best #6)

Sebastian

I t had been a few months since my father’s death, and the heavy cloak of grief had slowly transformed into a more bearable presence that no longer devoured my every thought, but instead sculpted who I was becoming.

Life itself now radiated a subtle, newfound brightness.

It felt different.

It felt better.

The once formidable Boone name no longer held its intimidating influence.

Boone Metals had crumbled into bankruptcy exactly as I had foreseen, and surprisingly, the expected crushing guilt never took root.

Bryce had driven the company straight into ruin, leaving my mother—clinging to her idealized dreams of family legacy —to confront the consequences of having supported the wrong man.

There was no bitterness in my heart, no surge of revenge.

Instead, a liberating sense of freedom had unfurled within me.

I had enrolled in psychology classes at the local community college—something I wouldn’t have even considered a year ago. The experience was humbling, invigorating, and, at times, frustrating. But with every lecture, and every discussion, my conviction of becoming a therapist deepened.

“So, are you the oldest student in your classes?” Tristan teased.

He was visiting from New York for spring break, and we were all somehow managing to fit into the apartment, for which we’d happily signed a one-year lease.

“Actually, Gillian is two years older than me,” I said.

The rich aromas of garlic and rosemary danced through the apartment as Lia carefully placed a steaming dish of roasted chicken on our dining table.

Every Saturday, the four of us—Lia, me, Tristan, and Ada—gathered together to share stories, laughter, and dreams. When we were lucky, our conversations unfolded over a hearty meal; other times, they resonated through the telephone when the children couldn’t join us in person.

Yet, no matter the medium, the bond was uniquely ours.

As Tristan poured wine into each glass, he turned to me with an impish smirk. “So, you geriatrics stick together?”

I laughed. “Yeah, we do.”

Ada’s face lit up with a bright grin. “I think it’s cool. My friends all say it’s awesome that my dad is in college—but then my mama was also in college…I have the coolest parents. ”

“You bet,” I agreed.

Ada popped a perfectly roasted potato into her mouth. “Mama says you’re obsessed with your classes.”

I glanced at Lia, whose eyes crinkled with a smile.

“I wouldn’t say obsessed,” I muttered, slightly embarrassed.

Lia raised an amused eyebrow. “Says the man who spent three hours last night studying because he wants an A in every test.”

“Well, hell, I want to be a good student, you know,” I said, chagrined.

After dinner, we cleared the table together. Tristan and Ada filled the dishwasher while Lia and I finished the wine.

“Okay, for real,” Tristan mused, “Savannah’s kind of perfect. If I lived downtown like you guys, I wouldn’t complain.”

“You sure about that? I thought Savannah was so boring compared to New York,” Ada quipped.

“Boring it may be, but it’s also affordable, and I’d rather be bored than share a Queens basement apartment with a roach named Clarence,” he muttered.

The apartment was loud, messy, and full of clashing voices—and I loved it. It was small compared to the house, and Tristan had to sleep on the couch, which he said he didn’t mind.

“Just no early morning cardio in the living room, you two. I don’t want PTSD.”

Lia tossed a cloth napkin at him, laughing. “Grow up. ”

“I’m trying!” he protested, grinning. “This is my growth era.”

Since it was Tristan’s last day in Savannah before he headed back to New York, we played tourists, which we had never done before in our own city.

We strolled down River Street, taking goofy selfies by the Waving Girl statue, even doing a ghost tour that amused all of us, except Ada, who thought she felt a presence in one of the old houses.

For lunch, we went to Collins Quarter, sat under the string lights in the courtyard, and ate like we hadn’t had Lia’s roasted chicken the night before.

“This is the happiest I’ve seen you both in years,” Tristan told me that evening when we were at a bar. Lia and Ada had stepped out to investigate a dress store.

“Thanks, son. I don’t think we’ve ever been this happy.”

“Good thing you quit that company.”

“Best thing.”

Warmth flickered in Tristan’s eyes. “Ada and I worried that you wouldn’t be able to find your way back to each other and…that you’d miss the corporate hoopla.”

“You know, I’d worried about that as well,” I remarked. “But surprisingly, I don’t. I thought I’d miss the house, but I like the apartment. I wouldn’t mind a little more room and a bigger balcony…but it’s good for us.”

Lia and Ada returned then with two shopping bags.

“Tristan says he’s never seen us this happy.” I kissed my wife’s cheek.

“That is true.” Ada sat on a stool next to her brother .

“We are deliriously happy,” Lia admitted, cuddling into me.

At times, we felt like an almost newlywed couple, and we truly enjoyed this stage of our lives as empty nesters.

“I think we’re finally living life on our terms,” I said to our kids.

Ada nodded slowly. “It suits you.”

That night, we all crammed into the tiny living room of the apartment for a movie night with bowls of popcorn balanced on our knees. I stretched my legs out on the ottoman, one arm around Lia’s shoulders, the other holding a half-empty glass of wine.

“Why did you pick a horror film when you get scared, Ada?” Lia admonished when Ada closed her eyes and poked her fingers inside her ears, asking us to tell her when the bad part was over.

“ Because ….”

Tristan shook his head. “She’s a masochist, is what this is.”

As they bantered, I watched my family with pride.

Life, I had to agree, had never been better.