The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline (39 page)

“Of course I understand
—I’m not a fucking idiot!”

“Good. Then please tell me why you’re here, making a scene in front of that receptionist, when Ches was looking after me?”

Every emotion was transparent as it scrolled across his face: surprise, anger, hurt—again—and then understanding and shame.

“I’m sorry. It’s just … I go a little a crazy when I think you’re hurt.”

“I know, tesoro. I understand, but can you see how that makes things harder for me?”

“Yeah, I get it. Sorry.”

“Okay. Then just hold me.”

He pulled our bodies together and we stood in silence, feeling the tension ebb and flow.

“Okay?” I asked, stroking his cheek.

He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He didn’t look fine: he looked stressed out and worried.

“Okay. I’ll text you later—hopefully to tell you that I’ve found a room.”

He sketched a smile.

“Stay out of trouble till then?” I said, softly.

“I’ll try,” he said, forcing a grin, “but I’m not making any promises.”

I kissed him gently and walked back through the lobby, avoiding the over-curious eyes of Nancy.

I was so distracted that I narrowly avoided walking smack bang into Brenda as she sashayed through the main doors.

“Hi, Barbara!” I called cheerfully as I walked down the steps.

“It’s
Brenda!
” she snarled.

It really is the little things in life that matter.

CHAPTER 17

The first room to rent was a shithole that I wouldn’t even have let David sleep in. Well, probably not.

Apart from the fact that the landlord answered the door in a knit undershirt that looked like it had last month’s breakfast down it, and talked to my cleavage rather than my face, the room he showed me smelled of cabbage and cat wee, and the carpet was tacky under my shoes. I didn’t even want to think about the stains on the bare mattress that was introduced to me as the bed but in fact was nearer to something that had been plucked from a landfill site sometime during the last year.

The second room in a hip part of downtown was perfect—small but clean, in a house shared with two mature law students, Phyl and Beth. I put down a $60 retainer and drove away two parts happy, promising I’d be back tomorrow.

They hadn’t probed too hard into why I was looking for a room, but they were bright women and I was sure they’d put two and two together during our brief conversation.

When I got home (and I wouldn’t be using that word for much longer), I was surprised to see that David had been back—the evidence being dishes in the sink and a full basket of his dirty clothes next to the washing machine. He’d obviously waited until I’d gone out to make a stealthy return. That made two of us then. Two cowards locked in a loveless marriage.

But not for much longer.

I ignored the washing, faintly amused to think he’d have to learn how to wash his own damn clothes, or continue living in some hotel, as I guessed he must be doing.

I filled my suitcase with all the clothes I could squeeze into it and shoved everything else into black garbage bags. What I removed from the house made almost no difference
—it was only if David looked in my closet that he’d notice any major changes. That my 11 years with David had made such a small indentation was a sobering thought. I hadn’t been a bad wife, but I hadn’t been a companion to him either. Although it seemed doubtful that he’d ever wanted one. Still, it was a lonely way to live—for both of us.

Six o’clock came and went
—still no sign of David. I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to tell him I was leaving him if he wasn’t even around himself: leave a note, send a text message, call his office, or even … drop by in person? None of them seemed particularly palatable. When I’d imagined telling him, I’d always assumed it would be in the privacy of our own front room.

Just after 10
pm
I got a text from Sebastian.

* How’s it going? Did u get a room?

Is the a*hole there? *

I knew if I told Sebastian that David was AWOL, he’d want to come over. But without knowing where David was, or his intentions, it was risky. The smart thing was to wait another 24 hours. But being smart and being in love, well, that was oil and water.

* By myself. Can Ches drop you downtown?

Need to get out of here. *

He replied immediately, as I knew he would.

* 30 mins, jazz plaza. r u ok? *

I didn’t know how to reply so I just sent a quick text agreeing to meet him where we’d seen the jazz band earlier in the day.

The city felt very different at night. Once the sun had disappeared the laidback aura was tinged with a frisson of excitement, and an intangible air of possibilities. I was so close to being free, so close to restarting my life—it was a heady feeling. I was dizzy with unaccustomed recklessness—and I was going to see Sebastian.

We had three more months before we could escape to New York—it was going to be a time of austerity, not that I cared about that, but I thought we deserved one night to really celebrate. So when I found myself outside a low- to medium-priced hotel, I hesitated less than the length of a heartbeat, booked a room, paid cash and put the keycard in my purse with a sense of abandonment.

My impulsive decision made me slightly late getting to the plaza. My phone started ringing just as I spotted him scanning the crowds and running a hand through his hair.

I watched him from a distance, enjoying that moment of seeing before touching. Dressed simply in washed-out denim and a plain, black t-shirt that emphasized his strong, slim build, he was a still point of light, surrounded by the swirling crowds.

“Hi!” I said into my cell phone.

“Where are you?” he said, sounding worried.

“On my way,” I said, softly as I snuck up behind him and ran my hand over his toned ass.

He jumped and turned around with a scowl on his face which broke into a huge, sexy smile when he saw me.

“I’ve got to go now,” he breathed into the phone, “a beautiful woman is feeling me up.”

“Is that right?”

Hidden by the crowd I ran my hand up the front of his jeans.

“Yeah,” he said into his cell phone, “I don’t know what she wants.”

“She hasn’t given you a clue?” I asked, rubbing my hand over him again and feeling his body respond.

“I think I’ll have to call you back,” he said, and snapped his phone shut.

We stood staring at each other as I slowly lowered my cell phone.

He took a pace forward so our bodies were nearly touching then he ran his hands lightly over my arms and rested his mouth on mine. I felt his warm breath wash over my face and his lips parted.

It was hard to remember we were in a public place as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. Tasting him, touching him, losing myself in him—the world fell away. Eventually I pulled back, aware that there was a time and a place—and tonight we had both.

“God, Caro!” he whispered and closed his eyes, just holding me to his chest.

“Come on,” I said, after a long moment, “let’s go for a walk.”

He frowned, looking puzzled. “Are you okay?”

“Sure, why?”

He shrugged. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you tonight. I mean, I’m glad you’re here, but…”

“Well, I’ve got everything packed up in my car. I … I just need to tell David. I was going to do it in the morning, but, well, he didn’t come home. And I wanted to see you.”

“Good,” he said happily.

I smiled up at him.

“Are you hungry or is that a dumb question?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I could definitely eat something.”

“Let’s head to Little Italy.”

“Yeah! We can pretend we’ve got that motorcycle and we’re on our road trip!”

We didn’t get quite that far before we found a small Sicilian café serving couscous al pesce, one of my favorite dishes—I was finding it hard to walk on by.

“I don’t know, Caro,” said Sebastian, scanning the menu hanging up outside, “it’s not that cheap.”

“I know it’s not, but tonight I don’t care—tonight I start my life over. Thanks to you.”

He smiled down at me and his eyes glowed with love.

“Really?”

“Truly. We’re celebrating … and I’ve got another surprise. But that’s for later.”

I tried to tug him into the café but he resisted. “Tell me!” he said his voice suddenly husky.

I shook my head and smiled. “No, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

“Caro, you’re driving me nuts! Please!”

“Well, okay, as I don’t want to be the cause of your insanity … I’ve booked a hotel for us.”

His breath hitched in his throat and his eyes widened. “A hotel?”

I nodded and had to swallow when I saw his expression change from love to lust.

“Let’s go now,” he said, pulling on my hand.

“No, I want to eat—and you said yourself that you’re starving.”

“We’ll get take-out!” he growled, tugging me down the street.

I planted my feet and tugged back. “Sebastian, no!”

He stopped, staring at me in hurt surprise.

“Why not?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the expression on his face, but my voice was serious. I’d spent quite a while thinking about this.

“Because after tonight we won’t be able to afford to do this again for ages and for tonight, at least, I don’t want to hide. I just want to have a nice meal in a nice café … I just want to have … a date. With you.”

He grinned. “A date? Yeah, I’d like that. With sex after?”

I laughed. “Oh, yes.
A lot
of sex after.”

We sat at a table in the window and the elderly waiter lit a candle and stuck it in an old wine bottle encrusted with wax.

I spoke to him politely in Italian and he smiled hugely.

His accent was very strong and he explained he was from Trapani on the toe of Sicily. I could tell Sebastian was finding it hard to follow the conversation so I switched to English.

“We hope to visit Sicily one day soon,” I said, throwing a quick glance at Sebastian who grinned back.

“Ah, then you must visit my home town and wish her well for me,” said the old man, “and you will weep before the beauty of our Madonna di Trapani.”

He wandered away, happily chattering to himself, as he reminisced about his home town. I smiled at Sebastian as he held my hand across the table, but then his eyes widened in shock.

“You took off your rings,” he whispered.

I nodded silently.

It was true: earlier, while I was pacing around the house, I happened to glance down at my hand and saw the rings—I mean really saw them, and everything they stood for. I slipped off my engagement ring, three small diamonds in a channel setting, and then took off the plain, gold wedding band. I held them in my hand, wondering what to do with them. I considered leaving them on the kitchen table, or on the cabinet next to David’s side of the bed, but in the end, I dropped them into my change purse.

My hand felt so light without my wedding rings, it was as if it could float away, but Sebastian held my left hand to his cheek and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“You’re really leaving him,” he said and I wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question.

“Yes. You didn’t think I would?”

He looked ashamed. “I did and I didn’t. I kept hoping but … I knew how much you’d be giving up. And … and I knew I couldn’t offer you anything…”

I held up my hand to stop him.

“That’s not true, Sebastian. You’ve already given me so much—you just don’t realize it.”

He shook his head impatiently. “Don’t try to make me feel better because…”

I interrupted him again. “I’m not! You’ve given me back my self-esteem and you’ve given me hope for the future. You’ve given me love. You’ve given me yourself. There’s nothing else I want.”

He reached across the table and held his hand against my face. I leaned into him and closed my eyes.

“I love you,” he said.

The waiter interrupted us with a polite cough, a smile and a wink at Sebastian who grinned back.

Sebastian pointblank refused to order antipasti and I couldn’t tell if it was because he was anxious about the cost or because he wanted to get back to the hotel as quickly as possible. Either way, I couldn’t persuade him to change his mind so I had to abandon my thoughts of caponata and ordered the couscous for secondi with half a carafe of the house red.

I didn’t mind: he wasn’t the only one who was thinking about a king-size hotel bed with crisp, white sheets and a double shower. Hmm, sheets I wasn’t going to have to wash—what a treat. Hmm, soapy, wet Sebastian in a double shower. Wait! Wasn’t there a large bath, too, or did I just dream that? Damn! I couldn’t remember. That was really going to bug me.

“What’s the matter? You look kinda pissed,” he said, worriedly. “I don’t mind if you have a starter.”

I looked up, confused, then I smiled at him.

“No, that’s fine
—I was just trying to remember whether or not there was a bath in the room.”

“That’s what you were thinking about?”

For a second he looked slightly shocked then a wicked grin lit up his face.

“Cool!”

I was distracted momentarily when I caught sight of someone turning away from the window, a glimpse of long blonde hair…

“What were you thinking of doing if there is a bath?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Well, I thought I’d start with getting really dirty. And then getting really clean.”

He swallowed and blinked several times. “How dirty?”

Now he had me on the back foot because I really didn’t know. David was nothing if not traditional. It was only over the last few weeks with Sebastian that I’d begun to explore the possibilities of pleasure.

I looked directly at him. “Let’s find out together.”

His answering smile was glorious.

The waiter arrived with our half carafe and poured a glass for each of us. I could see Sebastian was taken aback and then I remembered his age. How ridiculous that I could forget it, given the unusual circumstances of our relationship. Clearly the waiter was quite prepared to believe that Sebastian was over 21—he hadn’t even given us a second glance. It made me feel—hopeful.

Sebastian picked up his wineglass and ran his finger around the rim. For a second I imagined him dressed in a black tux and white shirt, sitting in a private box at La Scala. I picked up my glass and angled it toward him.