Sebastian remembered the conversation.
A busy Tuesday.
Three calls waiting.
Lavinia holding a list.
“Whatever Teddy wants,” he said.
Then he returned to work before asking Teddy.
“What did he want?”
She folded her arms.
“He wanted bowling.”
Sebastian stared at her.
“With Nell and four boys from school,” she continued. “And pizza out of cardboard boxes.”
“That sounds like Teddy.”
“He needs to learn he can’t have everything.”
“So you gave him none of it.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“No,” Sebastian said. “It isn’t.”
Lavinia stepped closer.
“You’re the one always saying privilege has to be earned.”
He went quiet.
She noticed.
“At the foundation dinner last month. You stood in front of two hundred people and said it.”
He remembered the speech.
Responsibility.
Service.
The obligations that came with wealth.
Words he believed.
Words he had apparently never imagined someone applying to his child’s right to eat.
“I said people with advantages should contribute,” he answered.
“And I taught him to contribute.”
“You told him he had to earn being my son.”
She looked at the fireplace.
“He needed something that would make him listen.”
For a moment, Sebastian could not speak.
Then he said, “You used me.”
Lavinia turned.
“No. I used a consequence.”
“My love isn’t yours to take away.”
Rose spoke to him in the kitchen while Mara sat with Teddy in the breakfast room.
His son was showing her how the sugar sailboat leaned.
From the doorway, Sebastian could hear their voices.
Ordinary.
Familiar.
Rose waited until he looked back at her.
“I called you three times.”
He took out his phone.
There were missed calls.
One voicemail.
He had seen her name between meetings and told his assistant to check whether the problem could wait.
His assistant reported that Rose wanted to discuss the birthday arrangements.
