Page 84 of Almost
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Sebastian
EVERYTHING FEELS RIGHT in the world.
Thalia is sitting at my side, trying not to laugh as Owen grows increasingly flustered as he argues with his father about the pass he fumbled in our season opener. Blake is smiling widely, shaking her head at her husband as he gestures wildly with his hands, Owen’s face turning a brighter red.
Thalia hasn’t helped matters by turning Owen’s error into a GIF that she loves to send out of the blue in our group chat. Unfortunately for Owen, the cameras caught Owen letting the football slip right through his fingers, bouncing off his face mask as he stared at his hands in horror. I’ve heard plenty about this small mistake that ended up making no difference in our game, so I can only imagine how much he’s talked Blake’s ear off about it.
He’ll be fine, and eventually his massive ego will recover.
Their father isn’t helping matters as he eggs Owen on, pointing out what a great pass it was, as Mrs. Lewis shakes her head at them.
“Owen, you’re being ridiculous. Everyone makes mistakes—learn from it and move on,” she chides, and I cover up my laugh with a short cough.
He turns to look at her in disbelief. “Who said anything about it being a mistake? Maybe Bash just made a shitty throw.”
Lia is quick to pull her phone out, already having the replay queued up. “Well, according to this, he threw it right at your face. You dropped it.”
I rest my hand on her leg underneath the table, squeezing her knee to silently communicate that we don’t need to play it right now. She catches my meaning, putting the phone down before playing her role as the antagonizing little sister.
“Honey, just let it go. It was three games ago, and no one is talking about it anymore except for you. If you stopped bringing it up, everyone would forget,” Blake says with a gentle smile, and his face softens. Thankfully, she understands him in a way I never thought anyone would.
“How’s work going, Blake? Any big projects coming up?” Mr. Lewis asks, taking the opportunity to change the conversation.
Thalia nods excitedly, her leg bouncing underneath my touch. “I swear I never see her anymore unless it’s a home game.”
“You’re also gone every other day taking day trips for that magazine, so that’s another reason why you haven’t seen me.” Blake snorts playfully. “I’m working with an orthopedic surgeon to design a new model for artificial hip replacements that will hopefully have a longer life span to reduce the need for more surgeries,” she explains.
Owen immediately picks up where she left off, talking animatedly about the difference between titanium and ceramic. This is way over my head considering my degree focused on the parts of the brain instead of the parts of the body. Sometimes I forget he was also an engineering major in college.
Lia leans into me, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?”
“Hip replacements?” I whisper hesitantly, and Thalia rolls her eyes.
“I knew that much, but I thought maybe you knew more than I did.”
“Sorry, we’re stuck in the same boat of cluelessness. When do you fly out tomorrow?” I ask, changing the topic abruptly. I love that she’s freelancing again, but I’m a little disappointed she’s leaving for a few days this time, as opposed to the day trips Lia’s been taking.
“Late evening instead of midday; I switched to a later flight because Chris asked if I would take Henry in the morning. You know I can’t say no to him, especially not when it means getting to spend time with my godson.”
She’s had Henry for a few hours every week since Chris has had so many meetings with his lawyer, and I love watching the two of them interact. She’s so good with him, and every time I see them together, it has my brain impulsively jumping ten steps forward until I rein it back to reality.
“What does Chris have going on?” Last time I spoke to him a few days ago, he hadn’t mentioned anything new coming up.
Thalia hesitates, ducking her head, immediately raising a flag in my head. “He asked me not to say anything.”
“Is he okay?” I ask, watching her features carefully.
“Bash,” she says my name quietly, before sighing. “Allie flew into town tonight, and he’s meeting with her in the morning.”
“What about Chris?” Owen asks, catching part of our conversation. I’ve been so engrossed in our conversation that I hadn’t realized the discussion about hip replacements had ended. Thalia’s face pales because I gather that if Chris asked her not to tell me, then it’s definitely not meant to be a conversation at the dinner table.
“Nothing,” Thalia says, and Owen’s eyes narrow suspiciously, but he doesn’t press her further.
“How’s Henry handling everything?” Blake asks, and she shrugs, taking a drink of her water.
“He’s doing good. He hasn’t asked for Allie, but I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.”