He clenches his jaw, admitting, "Everything."

I take a deep breath, then reply, "It shouldn't be. You're the CEO now. You have it all." I offer a smile.

"No, I don't," he states, drilling his bloodshot eyes into mine.

"When did you sleep last?" I ask.

He shrugs.

"When?" I push.

"I don't sleep well without you," he confesses.

My butterflies kick off, a mix of flutters and nerves.

He tilts his head, studies me, then murmurs, "I miss you. Nothing's ever hurt this badly."

I start to object, then stop. He's right. What's the point of denying it? I slowly nod. "I miss you too. And you're right. It does hurt badly."

"Then why are we doing this?" he questions.

I glance at the ceiling, trying to stop my eyes from watering. I wish I had answers for us. All I know is I don't know how to trust him again.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you that," he adds.

I refocus on him. "Are you going to be okay?"

He just stares at me. Uncomfortable silence fills the room. I shift on my feet, and he inquires, "Have you had any dinner?"

I shake my head. "No."

He hesitates, then asks, "Do you have New Year's plans?"

For some reason, a laugh comes out of me. "No. Melanie keeps asking me, but I'm just not feeling it."

His lips form a tiny smile. "I understand. Me too." He pauses, then continues, "Do you want to have dinner with me?"

Yes.

I blurt out, "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Georgia, it's just food."

More tense silence fills the air.

"Let's have dinner," he quietly repeats.

I blow out a big breath and ask, "What are you making?"

He grins, and my heart skips a beat. He answers, "I ordered a tray of enchiladas and chips from my favorite Tex-Mex place. Plus, one of our clients sent a homemade pecan pie to the office. I snagged it and took it home last night." He wiggles his eyebrows. "But I haven't cut into it yet."

"Stop teasing me!" I exclaim, then add, "Are you going off your diet?"

He shrugs. "Someone amazing told me I needed to live a little."

I softly reply, "That's good, Sebastian."

He steps closer. "What would you say if I told you I had ice cream and whipped cream for the pie?"

"Now you're really tempting me," I state.

His eyes twinkle, then his face falls. In a serious tone, he pleads, "Please come have dinner with me."

I think about it for a minute, then cave. "Okay."

"Yeah?" he asks with hope in his voice.

"Sure. It would be horrible for your wife to let you eat dinner alone on New Year's Eve, wouldn't it?" I say, then instantly regret bringing it up when a sad smile fills his face. I reprimand myself and add, "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."