AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I am so overwhelmed by the positive reviews and messages I've been getting in response to this story! Thank you! I'll admit that I was initially nervous about publishing this story, as it had been so long since I last wrote anything of my own that I was afraid that all of my old readers would have lost interest in the characters and their stories, but I'm pleased that this doesn't seem to be the case! So, thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the support!

I just wanted to pop in here and say that the chapter you're about to read goes more in-depth with the topics shared in Chapter 12 of my story "Sibling Rivalry". It surrounds parent loss, so I wanted to put a trigger warning here in case anyone needs one.

- QA

Chapter 5: As If We Never Said Goodbye

SEBASTIAN

"Well, I don't know what it's like to have an older brother to coach me and turn me into some kind of child prodigy in any sport, but I can relate to the part of having an overprotective mom," Sebastian shared with Griffin, Artie, and Ella after Ella finished telling her story about how her success in gymnastics and cheerleading was largely thanks to Artie's influence, dedication, and insistence on being her personal coach over the years. "My mom was always hovering over me too. I mean, she was as overbearing as you could possibly be while working full-time and raising an overly independent city child."

"Was your dad that way too?" Griffin wondered. "I don't know him all that well yet, but he seems pretty chill."

Sebastian shook his head. "My dad was a stay-at-home dad when I was little. He had always wanted to go to law school, but he studied abroad during his senior year of college and met my mom outside a café. They fell in love, and after he graduated, he decided to put law school on hold, and instead, he moved back to Paris so that they could be together."

"A Parisian love story!" Ella squealed, clapping her hands excitedly. "It sounds like the plot of a romance movie!"

Sebastian smiled and nodded. He'd always loved this story too, and when he was a kid, he had often begged his parents to tell him the story of how they met.

"So he worked as a server until my mother's designs really took off and she began making enough to support the family. After that he decided to stay home with me until I was old enough to begin school, which was when he started taking his law school classes," Sebastian explained. "Mama was always busy, so my dad was the one who always made my meals, took me to the playground, and helped me practice my piano… We were close, and he rarely disciplined me when I got into trouble, which is why I think I got away with so many things I probably shouldn't have. My mom was the hardass. She was a stickler for proper manners, and polished and put-together outfits… He was always the more laid-back parent out of the two of them, and when my mom died, I think he realized he needed to step up and change his ways or else I was gonna turn into a terror."

"Hmm. Well, you ended up one anyways," Artie noted, the smirk on his face letting Sebastian know he was only joking. Despite Artie's snarky comment, Sebastian's heart soared. He'd always longed for this teasing relationship between siblings, and now it was finally happening!

"Griff's right, you are an asshole," Sebastian replied, even though he was unable to suppress the grin he now wore. He could tell that this was Artie's way of welcoming him to the family, and even if it was slow, it was progress.

"Your mom died?" Ella asked gently, and the look of concern on her face reminded Sebastian that the only one out of the three of them who knew close to anything about him was Artie.

"Oh. Yeah. It was cancer. When I was eight," Sebastian answered, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the direction in which this conversation was inevitably heading.

The first time he'd ever really gone into the story of his mother's death for anyone had been with Artie a few weeks ago. Artie had gotten vulnerable first, by opening up and telling Sebastian all of the details of his car accident and the long road to recovery that followed, even when it was hard for him to tell. Sebastian had just figured he owed Artie the same courtesy. But before that, the topic of his mother's death had really never come up– at least, not in a way that would require Sebastian to fully reflect on the saddest day of his life. Even after eight years, it still felt foreign for him to tell somebody about his mother's passing; as if by mentioning it, it would become more final– more real.

"Jesus. We're all just dumping our trauma and heavy stories tonight, huh?" Griffin observed, shaking his head and taking a sip of his drink.

"Well, that is what the parents sent us here to do, right?" Artie said back, a hint of annoyance in his voice as he addressed his brother. "They want us to get to know each other, beneath just surface-level conversations. So that's what we're doing. So go on, Seb. The floor is yours."

Paris, France

February 2004

Valentine's Day was one of Sebastian's favorite days of the year. They call Paris the City of Love, and there was nothing Sebastian loved more than celebrating this holiday in his beautiful city. The heart-shaped everything, the pink and red decorations in all of the storefront windows, the way that tourists from all over flocked to the city this time of year to celebrate… He loved it all.

He had already made his mother and father a Valentine's Day craft at school that consisted of construction paper, a doily, and an abundance of glitter, but this year, at nearly nine years old, stubbornly independent Sebastian wanted to do something extra special for his parents: surprise them by making them a special breakfast all by himself.

Pancakes were his dad's specialty– he made them for Sebastian every morning before school, and after watching him make them a million times, Sebastian felt confident in his abilities to make them on his own, even with the hot griddle involved. Usually, the pancakes his dad made were chocolate chip, or sometimes blueberry. But strawberry pancakes were reserved for Valentine's Day, and they were his absolute favorite holiday treat. He set his alarm clock extra early to allow himself time in the kitchen alone before his parents got up so that his creation could truly be a surprise.

At six forty-five, Sebastian drowsily rolled out of bed and slipped on his fuzzy monogrammed bathrobe and his slippers before tip-toeing down the hall to get started. He climbed onto the countertop to retrieve the box of pancake mix from a high cabinet and read the ingredients on the back, then began running back in forth in their small kitchen gathering all of the other materials he's need: a mixing bowl, dry and liquid measuring cups, water, and a handful of strawberries. Then Sebastian dragged a stepstool over to the counter and got to work.

After measuring the correct amount of pancake mix and water and mixing them together, he got started with cutting his strawberries up into tiny pieces. His fluffy orange cat, Pierre, joined him on the counter, attempting to 'help' by sniffing all of the ingredients. Setting his pile of fruit to the side, Sebastian began the difficult part: pouring the batter onto the hot griddle, adding pinches of his chopped-up strawberries, and timing himself in order to flip the pancakes over perfectly without messing it up.

His first attempt was a flop, as he had tried to flip his pancake over too soon and ended up spreading the half-baked batter all over the spatula. He pursed his lips together before scraping the remnants of his first attempt off of the griddle and discarding it onto a paper plate off to the side. Trying again, Sebastian waited a few minutes longer after adding the fruit before he tried to flip it over. Success!

Having worked the kinks out in order to perfect his pancake-flipping timing, it was smooth sailing from there, and it wasn't long before Sebastian had more than enough pancakes for the three-person family to enjoy. Turning off the griddle, he carefully went through the china cabinet, looking for his mother's nice white plates with red detailing. He was gentle, as his mother had always stressed that the good china was only for special occasions, and Sebastian deemed Valentine's Day as special an occasion as any.

Sebastian expertly plated his creations, putting three pancakes on each of the three plates and wiping away the excess crumbs (he'd learned that from the cooking shows his dad liked to watch sometimes). After loading the plates onto a portable breakfast tray, he added silverware, napkins, and three glasses of water.

Just a little over an hour after he'd started cooking, he was ready to surprise his parents.

The tray was a little heavier than he expected, with the three meals and weight of the china, but Sebastian managed just fine as he shuffled his feet quietly along the floor. He was so proud of his creation that he could hardly suppress his smile as he went to knock on the door of his parents' bedroom. When his knuckles made contact with the wooden door though, it pushed open just slightly.

His parents were already awake, and both looked up at him standing in the doorway with sad eyes.

Immediately, Sebastian knew that something wasn't right.

"Um… Happy Valentine's Day…?" Sebastian began, suddenly feeling queasy, like he had intruded on something he wasn't supposed to see. "I made breakfast… Is everything okay?"

"Sebi, viens ici, mon bébé," His mother weakly called him over, while his father's eyes watered as he cleared his throat.

"We have something we want to tell you."

"What is it?" Sebastian asked, the uneasiness inside of his tummy growing as he set the tray containing his morning's work on his mother's bureau and took a hesitant step toward his parents' king-sized bed.

"I'm sick, baby," His mother said, her thick French accent present even when she spoke English. "Very sick."

Sebastian swallowed hard.

"Well… you're going to get better right?" Sebastian asked, his hands gripping the down comforter that covered his parents' bed. "I was sick too, remember? And the doctors took out my tonsils, and I got popsicles, then I was okay."

"It's a little more complicated than that," Harrison told him. "Mama has cancer, Sebastian. At first, it was only in a few parts of her body, but it's spread."

Sebastian shook his head, still not understanding. Sebastian remembered when Grand-mére– his mother's mother– had passed away from cancer a few years before. She had been so sick and frail, he remembered. But before this morning, his mother had seemed just fine. Her hair was still long and dark and shiny, and she had accompanied him to his tennis lesson just last weekend. Nothing had been wrong. He couldn't fathom how she could have something as scary as cancer.

"How long have you been sick, Mama?"

"A few months, my love," she told him. "Remember when we went to Iceland? And Australia and China?"

Sebastian nodded, but he wasn't sure why their family vacations from last summer were of any relevance to their current conversation.

"Mama knew that she might not have a lot of time left to spend with us," his father began to explain, taking over for his mother, as it was apparent that even just the conversation was exhausting her. "So she wanted to go make some memories with her two favorite guys."

Suddenly, Sebastian understood what his parents were trying to tell him. It felt overwhelmingly crushing; like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and torn into shreds. His lower lip trembled as he climbed into bed with his parents and cuddled close to his mother. He tried to be gentle because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, but he just needed to be near her.

He wasn't hungry enough to enjoy all of the hard work he'd put into his special Valentine's Day breakfast anymore.

"Your parents didn't tell you she was sick?" Ella asked in horror.

"Not until she was dying." Sebastian shook his head. "The cancer was stage 4 and had already spread by the time the doctors caught it. And after watching the ways that surgery, and chemotherapy, and the other treatments that were supposed to be helping had made her own mother sicker than the actual cancer had in the last few months of her life, Mama decided not to undergo any treatments."

Artie had already heard this story, but he sat there quietly with his hands folded in his lap as Sebastian retold it, carefully including more details than he had the first time around. He could feel Artie hanging onto every word.

"She had been fine– at least to me– just the day before, but I guess she took a turn for the worse overnight. She had just hours left when I went into their room that morning," Sebastian went on, surprising himself by his ability to keep his composure up until this point. "And I mean, sure, I was naïve, but for good reason. My childhood had been pretty picture-perfect up until that point. After my mother passed away, though, all of the dynamics within our family shifted. My dad was no longer the goofy, stay-at-home, chill dad he once was. He was so sad all the time, and I just felt… lost without a mother's guidance and direction. And I felt like I didn't have anywhere to turn."

May 2004

"Daddy? Can we go to the park so I can ride my bike now?" Sebastian asked, buckling his helmet around his chin, ready to ride.

Spring had officially sprung in Paris, and Sebastian was still working to burn off the cabin fever that had accumulated over the particularly cold winter. The warmer temperatures had Sebastian itching to ride the new bicycle he'd received last month for his ninth birthday.

"Not now, Sebastian," was his father's dismissive response, effectively shutting him down.

"But you promised!" Sebastian reminded him as he stomped his foot on the floor, ashamed of how whiny his voice sounded when he got disappointed.

"I'm too busy right now," Harrison sternly repeated, unable to tear his eyes away from his work to acknowledge his son. "Why don't you go next door and see if Charles is around."

Sebastian stood by the front door with his shoulders slumped and his bike helmet on his head, defeated.

Sebastian had noticed the way that his father could hardly even look at him these days without his eyes welling up with tears. It wrecked Sebastian that just his mere presence was enough to upset his father. And that was the last thing he wanted to do– upset him even more, as he'd already been so sad lately.

Sebastian slammed the door shut behind him and walked downstairs, through the space that was once his mother's studio. Nobody had touched anything inside of the room since she'd passed, and it looked as if she'd only stepped out of the room for a moment, not like she had been gone for over two months by now.

Sebastian grabbed the handlebars of his new green bike that had been leaning against the banister of the front stoop. As he walked it down the sidewalk by himself, he aimlessly wished, yet again, for a brother or a sister. Or simply for anyone to be there to care for him and look out for him and play with him and distract him from the unthinkable events that had transformed his little life over the last ten weeks.

There was an unfillable emptiness in his heart as Sebastian acknlowledged that if everything was normal– if everything was the way it should be– his mother would be sticking her head out the door of her studio right about now, calling to him and telling him that he had to stay where she could see him and that he couldn't run off by himself without permission (despite how independent and responsible he always claimed to be).

Now that she was gone, he had nobody to fulfill that role in his life. His father was too grief-stricken, distraught, and distracted to think about things like parenting and disciplining his child, and the last thing Sebastian wanted to be was another burden in his father's life.

That was why, at freshly nine years old, Sebastian was setting off by himself down the block, knowing all the while that if his mother was still here, she would never have allowed him to do that alone.

"I think my dad tried his best, but it was uncharted territory for both of us," Seb explained. "He was so heartbroken after she passed, you know, and I was dealing with my grief and loneliness by acting out, and he just didn't have it in him to deal with that on top of everything else."

Sebastian sighed.

"And I don't blame him. Those first three?– four?– years were rough. About a year after my mom passed, we moved to Ohio because this is where my dad grew up. He channeled his grief into his work, and I channeled mine into anger. I was angry at everything: at the universe for taking my mom, at him for working so much… I was figuring out my sexuality too, and just felt alone. It would have been nice to have someone to get through those times with, you know? We had just moved to a new country, I didn't know anyone, and my dad was working all the time. I had a nanny and some friends at school, but nobody I was close to." Sebastian paused and shook his head. "It's kind of ridiculous to say it out loud, but I don't think I've ever even had a best friend."

From his seat across the table, Artie reached out and put his hand on Sebastian's arm in a supportive gesture, causing Sebastian to glance up.

"You have us now. You're gonna be our brother soon. We won't let you be alone again."

It wasn't hard for Sebastian to muster a grateful smile. He and Artie may not have started off on the best of terms, but Sebastian could sense that something was about to shift.

"Okay," Griffin said to the group, sniffling and swiping at his eyes (the effortlessly cool and masculine eldest of the bunch was not even attempting to cover up the way that Sebastian's story had made him emotional). "Who's up for one more round of bowling before we have to turn these shoes in? What do you say, Art? All or nothing?"