Page 54 of Time After Time (Golden Sands #1)

I nearly had a heart attack when Sebastian suddenly turned around, glancing over his shoulder.

He headed toward where we were hiding, and Sylvie reacted fast, grabbing my hand and dragging me to sit on a bench next to Mr. McCall.

She snatched up two newspapers and held them up to shield our faces, making the whole situation feel even more surreal.

This was probably one of the worst ways to hide—films had taught everyone that.

Mr. McCall gave us a look like we had lost our minds, but thankfully, just shook his head and went back to his usual routine, selling the town’s newspaper from his favourite bench.

Sebastian slipped into the bookstore. A few minutes later, he came out empty-handed, which wasn’t surprising.

He had a habit of doing that—wandering in, checking the shelves, leaving, and coming back days later to actually buy the books he wanted.

That was why he always asked Cynthia to set aside certain editions, promising he’d return for them as soon as he could.

“Where do you think he’s going now?” Sylvie whispered as Sebastian glanced around once more, then headed to the end of the street, slipping through the narrow passageway between two stores and leaving the town square.

My sister immediately stood up and hurried after him, jogging a little, afraid we would lose sight of him. Our feet moved quickly, but not nearly as fast as my heart pounded inside my chest, racing through my mind and every part of my body. Anxiety prickled through me with sharp, relentless pulses.

“How did he even fit through this tiny space?” Sylvie grunted, twisting her body sideways to squeeze through without hurting herself. “He could have just walked around the store.”

“We could have too,” I muttered, gritting my teeth as I followed right behind her, moving as fast as we could and hoping that once we got through, we’d still be able to see where Sebastian had gone.

“Or perhaps you could have stayed home and not followed me.” The voice startled me.

Sebastian was waiting at the end of the passageway, leaning against the back wall of one of the stores, his right arm resting against his chest in its brace and his left hand planted on his hip.

Shit . “Why am I being followed, or should I say spied on, by the St. James sisters?” I had never seen Sebastian look so serious, a deep displeasure etched across his face, his eyebrows fighting the urge to furrow.

And the worst part? Even though he was addressing both of us, and his gaze flicked between me and Sylvie, I could tell the anger—the disappointment—was mostly directed at me.

My heart slammed against my ribs as if trying to escape, and my throat went dry, thick with the sudden sting of guilt.

It was like standing on the edge of a crack, the ground shifting beneath my feet, and knowing that one wrong step could shatter everything between us.

I wanted to speak, to fix it, but the words caught in my chest.

“Just seeing if Gen would make a good private investigator,” Sylvie said with a wide, careless grin, folding her arms across her chest like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“Neither of you could pull that off. I can assure you that,” Sebastian said flatly.

“Sebastian, I—” I started, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Why were you following me?”

“Because you lied to your mum, Robert, and her.” Sylvie scoffed.

“So you decided to follow me instead of, I don’t know, calling me or waiting until we saw each other to ask about it?”

His gaze locked onto mine, unwavering and intense, burning into me in a way that made me want to shrink into myself. The weight of his stare made my chest tighten. I hated he was upset, and even more, I hated it was because of my actions.

“I just…” My voice faltered, trembling under the pressure of his stare.

His eyes were so dark I had to blink twice to make sure the person in front of me was really Sebastian Ventura.

“I just found it strange, and I got a little worried. You left your phone at your mum’s house, and…

and I was worried. You never lie. You never hide anything from me and?—”

He scoffed, shaking his head. The timing of that motion made my heart feel like it was being squeezed, like a lemon. Did he hide other things from me?

“Is that a good enough reason to follow me? To invade my privacy? To do whatever it is you both were trying to do with this? Because if I haven’t told you or anyone, it’s probably because I’m not ready to.”

I unintentionally gasped aloud. Sylvie’s head snapped toward me, but I didn’t meet her eyes.

I was frozen, caught by what had just slipped out between my lips.

Sebastian’s eyes were glistening, and despite the anger I could see etched in every tight muscle of his face, there were tears threatening to spill over, tears he was desperately trying to hide.

“You don’t have to lie about it. You could just say something happened, and that when you’re ready, you’ll talk about it.” Sylvie’s feet tapped against the ground as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest.

“I would have said that, and you both would have still followed me. Tell me I’m wrong, Sylvie. I know you both.”

At that, Sylvie grimaced, knowing he was right. If he’d told us something had happened and that he would talk about it when he was ready, we would’ve been worried too. We would’ve tried to figure out what was going on, guessing and questioning, especially after his accident.

“Therapy.”

The word hung in the air, simple but heavy, and we both stared at him, waiting for more.

“I decided to start therapy. My body isn’t healing like I thought it would, and that’s been harder than I expected. Happy now? Well, I’m late for my appointment.”

Without another word, Sebastian turned and walked away, his back straight, his footsteps sharp against the pavement. He didn’t glance back, didn’t offer a single sign of what he was feeling.

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach.

I had fucked up.

An hour and a half had passed since Sebastian disappeared into Kennedy’s house.

The one therapist in Golden Sands I’d discovered during my research while I waited for him.

I sat on the bench, my eyes drifting up every few minutes toward the spot where I expected him to appear.

He would have to walk through the square to get back to his cottage or Cora’s house, so I stayed put.

I’d told Sylvie she could leave once Sebastian was out of sight, but here I was, still lingering.

Waiting. Hoping for a chance to talk to him, to apologise.

A deep sigh startled me, pulling my attention away from my phone, where I had gathered all the information on mid-shaft fractures. It was the same information I’d researched and copied into my notes the moment I learned what had happened to Sebastian’s arm.

“It’s hot. What are you still doing here?” He didn’t sit, just asked.

I opened my mouth to answer, but no words came out. Not even the ones I knew I needed to say the moment I saw him. The apology. The words I truly felt because it hadn’t been my intention to make him angry, to make him feel like I didn’t trust him, even though my actions had clearly said otherwise.

“I’ve been irritable since the accident, and I want to stop being like that.”

I looked up at him, squinting against the light. He noticed and pulled my sunglasses down from the top of my head, settling them over my eyes without saying a word.

“I started realising I wasn’t just being hard on myself,” he said, voice low.

“I was shutting people out too—my parents, you… everyone. I snapped without meaning to. I let things slide. I didn’t take care of myself, and I definitely wasn’t taking care of the people who matter to me.

That’s not who I want to be. That’s not who I am. ”

He let out a shaky sigh, his head falling between his slumped shoulders.

“I’m so sorry, Gen. The way I talked to you… I hate it. I hate I reacted like that, and…”

His body trembled slightly. He stopped and closed his eyes, drawing in a slow, steady breath. I wondered if his therapist had taught him to do that.

“Sebastian… It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have talked to you that way.

I’m sorry,” Sebastian said, his voice softer now, as he sat down next to me, just a little too close.

Before I could respond, he spoke again, his words tumbling out as if he needed to say them all at once.

“I didn’t want my mum, Robert, or you to think that your words didn’t matter to me.

That you weren’t giving me the support I needed. ”

He didn’t look at me. His eyes stayed glued to his feet, shifting slightly, but not meeting mine.

His shoes bumped against mine in a playful, almost nervous motion.

“Everything you all said meant something. It helped, even if it didn’t feel like it at the time.

But I guess... I needed more than just words.

I needed someone to give me tools, something to help me—” His eyes flicked to his right arm, and instead of the sadness I expected, I saw a spark of determination, followed by the faintest curve of his lips.

I reached out without thinking, placing my hand on his thigh and squeezing.

“To accept it, and to make the little voice understand that I’m still me, and that I can still do the things that matter to me,” he finished, his voice almost a whisper.

“Why didn’t you say anything? You know we would have supported you every step of the way, right?”

He nodded slowly, his gaze still on the ground.

“And therapy is completely normal, Sebastian. It’s something that will do you good. We… I don’t think any of us would have ever thought we weren’t enough for you.”

His shoulders tensed, and he exhaled sharply. “It made me feel… I’m not sure. I’m having a hard time knowing how I feel.”

My heart sank at his words. “What do you mean?”