Guilt and sadness wash over me. I haven't thought too much about what it must be like for Georgia to have zero family left, but her statement hits me like a ton of bricks. Grief fills her face, and I'd do anything at this moment to take it away from her. Plus, I'd be devastated if anything happened to anyone in my family, including Evelyn. I finally agree, "You're right."

"Yes. I am," she firmly asserts.

More shame hits me.

An awkward silence fills the air until she asks, "Sebastian, what do you want out of life?"

It's another question that surprises me and leaves me speechless. How is it that she's so much younger than me but seems to have her life together more than I do?

Before I met Georgia, I thought I was doing everything right. I was continuing to build my family empire, and everyone in Texas knew about me. I was happy.

That's a lie.

I've not been happy in a long time.

She makes me feel happy.

"Sebastian?" she pushes.

I don't know how to answer her question, so I flip it on her and tease, "I don't know. What do you want? A husband, a dozen kids? Your cupcake store, and you'll live happily ever after?"

Disgust mixed with anger fills her expression. She seethes, "What if I do? What's wrong with that?"

My gut dives like I'm at the top of a hill and the ground just broke underneath me. I hold my hands in the air. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"No?"

"No. I swear I didn't," I claim.

She challenges, "So you don't want a wife who loves you? You don't want any kids? You want to be by yourself forever and only make more money?"

My mouth turns dry. Is that how she sees me?

It's what I've portrayed.

Is that what I want?

Yes.

No.

I could see that life with Georgia.

Christ. What's happening to me?

She's going to divorce me on January 2nd.

Annulment…not divorce…like it never happened.

This isn't real.

Her blue eyes swirl with something I haven't seen before. My heart thumps hard against my chest as I realize what's growing more intense the longer she drills her gaze into mine.

She thinks I'm pathetic.

Am I?

I finally confess, "I used to, but then I learned it just wasn't in the cards for me."

"Why isn't it in the cards? You can have anything you want. You're Sebastian Cartwright," she claims.

Nancy arrives with the beers and water. For once, I want to hug her for saving me. But my gratitude is short-lived when she lowers her voice and asks, "Did you hear about Matteo?"

My chest tightens. I almost tell her that I don't care and to not talk to me the rest of the time we're here. But curiosity kills the cat, and I'm apparently the cat. I can't resist and fall into her trap, responding, "No."