Chapter 44
When I get to my room, I pick up my phone, calling the one person I never thought I would.
“Sebi? Are you okay?” his gentle tone is enough to snap what’s left of the hold I have on my emotions. I begin sobbing into the phone, unable to speak.
He murmurs words of consolation while I sob, but he gives me the space I need to cry myself out. When I finally stop, I feel completely wrung out, exhausted, and more broken by the look of betrayal on Shane’s face than any feeling of mediocrity could have made me feel.
“I want to come home, Christian,” I whisper.
“Absolutely not, Sebi. You are not a quitter. Talk to me.”
“They used us against Shane, Christian.”
“I know. He called me earlier. I could tell he was angry, but he wouldn’t talk to me.”
“I can’t do it Christian. I can’t spend six months having him look at me like I betrayed him.’
“This is hell week Sebastiana. It will get better.”
“1
“YOU DIDN’T SEE HIM! You didn’t see the look in his eyes, Christian. You’re not here, you don’t have to face it. He didn’t even show up to sex class tonight. There’s breaking someone, and then there’s breaking them beyond repair.”
“Sebi …”
“I have to go, Christian,” I say, hanging up before the next round of tears begins.
Christina POV
“You need to talk to her, Mom. I’ve never heard her like this. She said she wanted to come home. I told her no, but I’m not sure she won’t walk away,” Christian says. “Whatever they did to Shane, it broke Sebi too.”
I growl softly. “I’ll handle it.”
I hang up and dial my daughter. When it immediately goes to voicemail, I know she rejected my call. I try again and the same thing happens.
I look at my mate. “What are you going to do?” he asks in the calm tone that he always has. Usually, my mate can calm me, but this is my baby girl.
I dial another number.
“Christina? What can I do for you?”
“We’ll get to that later, Dane. Put my daughter on the phone.”
“She’s not here with me, Christina. It’s late.”
“I’m well aware of the time. Find my daughter and put her on the fucking phone. NOW, Dane.”
He sighs, but I hear him getting up and walking. “Give me a minute,” he says.
I wait, drumming my fingers on the table.
I hear a knock and then when it’s not answered, a louder knock. “Open the door, Sebastiana.”
I hear the door open.
“Your mother wants to speak with you. You can return my phone in the morning,” he says and passes the phone to Sebastiana.
I hear the door close, and I hear my daughter breathing into the phone, but she doesn’t speak.
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