Until New Year’s Eve, Sebastian still didn’t return. As the hours ticked by, the emptiness in the house grew unbearable, and Abigail made another call.
This time, when she was about to give up, he answered.
“Hello, what’s the matter?” His voice was cold, impatient, as if her call was an inconvenience.
Abigail’s heart clenched, but she forced herself to speak softly. “Sebastian, can we celebrate the New Year together today?”
A beat of silence followed, then his tone turned sharper. “Did I tell you not to call me that again? I find it disgusting. And New Year’s Eve? It’s just part of an agreement. Don’t take it seriously.”
The dull ache in her chest sharpened, piercing her like a knife. She swallowed hard, trying to push back the tears threatening to spill.
“Sebastian, I—”
Before she could say more, a cheerful voice interrupted. Gabriella’s voice, bright and carefree, was unmistakable.
“Sebastian, the fireworks are starting! Come quickly!”
“Okay,” he responded, his tone so gentle it was unrecognizable from the one he’d just used with her.
And then, without another word, the call ended.