He could blame it on the fever. Sure, he’d been loopy and hot and his vision had been all wobbly. He was lucky he hadn’t confessed feelings for her.

He’d felt chagrin that he’d unloaded so unexpectedly and so fully. But the humiliation and shame never quite showed their faces. As he’d gotten up to shower and rouse Matty for school, Sebastian had slowly realized that as intense as the experience had been, he really felt like she understood what he’d been saying. Sometimes she seemed so delicate, with her sweet face and quiet voice, that tiny little stature, but she’d been strong and unfazed the night before. He’d slowly realized that not only did he not regret that conversation, getting it off his chest made him feel weightless, free, relieved.

He’d been well enough to walk Matty to school that morning, but not well enough to work in his shop. So he’d cleaned the house instead, taking a few rest breaks and a nap after lunch. It had been a day for the record books. He’d been weirdly energized, stripping his house of any remnants of sickness. He’d scrubbed every surface, and as he got used to this ethereal, cosmic lightness in his soul, he felt as if he were scrubbing away the last poisonous dregs of his unresolved grief over Cora’s death.

He knew he wouldn’t stop mourning her—that would probably never end—but he was prepared for it, it felt healthy. The twisted, shameful grief he’d kept hidden deep in his gut had been extracted from him the night before, removed with the precision of a surgeon.

It was only toward the end of that day, when he knew he’d have to head over to the school to get Matty, that Seb allowed himself to think, really think, about the woman who’d performed this emotional exorcism on him. He felt his floating lightness toss down a rope. And another. And another. Soon, he was tethered to the ground again and slowly lowering.

He knew he should be simply grateful that she’d taken care of his son. Made dinner. Provided one hell of a therapy session. But instead he’d felt the leaden weight of disappointment slowly descend over him from head to toe. She was such a wildly incredible person. So competent and kind and fierce and sweet.

And she couldn’t be his.

He wanted so badly to feel only friendship for her. To just call her up, the way he would Tyler or Mary. Say, Thanks, buddy. I really needed that talk last night.

He knew he wouldn’t call her. There was too much risk of saying, Hey, come over again. Sit with me on my back porch after my boy goes to sleep. Let me kiss your shoulder and untangle your hair from your earring. I’ll make mediocre dinner, and you can sit on my lap the whole time.

He’d never risk that. And so he found himself coming to the exact same conclusion he’d come to when he’d shown her his workshop. She was cute as hell and was his perfect match in another world. But in this world, she was too young, attached to someone else, and someone that Seb needed to start distancing himself from.