Sweet Cravings

Chapter Seven – Pieces of What Was Lost

Sebastian

Sleep wouldn’t come, a summer storm had blown in and rain pelted the windows. After an hour of tossing and turning, Sebastian gave up. He grabbed the baby monitor from his bag, plugged it in, and synced it to his phone—just in case the boys woke up. Quietly, he slipped out of the room, padding down the stairs in search of tea.

As he passed the breakfast room, a sound stopped him cold—a muffled sniffle, followed by a broken whisper.

“No, no, no… please don’t do this to me. Oh God, not now.”

He pushed the door open and froze.

Bri sat at the table, tears streaking her cheeks, clutching a tablet like it was a lifeline. Her shoulders shook, her breath hitching in ragged sobs.

“Bri?” His voice was low, careful. “Hey… what’s going on?”

She didn’t look up, just kept shaking the tablet, her hands trembling. Something inside him cracked. He crossed the room, sat beside her—and before he could think, he pulled her on to his l, his arms tight around her.

Her head fell against his chest, soft and warm, and he stroked her hair gently. “Shhh… it’s okay,” he murmured, letting her cry, his heart pounding with every broken sound. When her sobs eased, he cupped her cheeks, tilting her face toward him. “Talk to me. What happened?”

She sniffed, voice shaking. “It won’t turn on. I was upstairs adding photos from today and it just… stopped. And I—I…” Her breath hitched again.

Sebastian squeezed her shoulders, steady and calm. “Hey, it’s okay. If it’s broken, your stuffs probably backed up to the cloud.”

Her head snapped up, eyes wide and wet. She shook her head hard, sobs breaking free again. “No… you don’t understand. It was my husband’s. It’s always signed in. I don’t know the password or anything. If I can’t get it to work… all our memories are gone.”

A pit opened in his stomach. He hadn’t asked about Sky’s father—just assumed he wasn’t in the picture. But the grief in her voice told him everything.

Oh God. He’s gone. And this tablet… it’s all she has left.

“All our wedding videos,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Sky’s first month. Before Jaxon died. If I lose this… I lose him.”

Sebastian swallowed hard, throat tight. He picked up the tablet, turning it over—and exhaled in relief when he saw the logo. “Bri… it’s okay. I can fix this.”

Her head jerked up, hope flickering like a fragile flame. “What? How?”

He grinned, holding up the device. “Luckily, your husband had excellent taste in tech. This is one of mine.”

She blinked. “Yours?”

Sebastian extended his hand, smile tugging at his lips. “Sebastian Conner. Owner of C-Tech Solutions.”

Her eyes widened, then softened into a watery grin. “Well… now I don’t feel so bad about you buying us all burgers.”

He chuckled, warmth curling through his chest. “Why don’t you make us some tea while I grab my go-bag from the car? I’ve got everything I need.”

She rose slowly, pausing at the doorway. Her voice was quiet, trembling with hope. “Can you really fix it, Sebastian?”

He met her gaze, something fierce and certain rising inside him. “If I can’t fix it here, I’ll take it home and make sure it’s done. I’ll do whatever it takes to get your memories back.”

The tablet hummed softly as his diagnostic tool worked its magic. Sebastian glanced up at Bri, who sat across from him, fingers curled around her mug like it was the only thing anchoring her.

“Tell me about him,” Sebastian said quietly. “Jaxon.”

Her breath caught. For a moment, he thought she might shut down—but then her shoulders eased, and she nodded, eyes shimmering.

“We met in high school,” she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips. “He was the quarterback. I was… the girl who hid in the library.” A soft laugh escaped her. “He used to bring me coffee during study hall, even though he hated the smell.”

Sebastian smiled, picturing it. “Sounds like he knew what mattered.”

“He did,” Bri said, voice thick with memory. “We were inseparable after that. Prom, graduation, college… everything. He proposed under the cottonwoods by the river where we had our first kiss.” Her eyes glazed with tears, but her smile held. “We built a life together. Had the perfect home, the perfect life.”

Sebastian swallowed hard, throat tight. “He sounds like a good man.”

“The best,” she whispered. “He was strong, and kind, and… he loved us so much.” Her voice cracked. “And then—three weeks after Sky was born—he was gone. Car accident. Just like that.”

Silence stretched, heavy and tender. Sebastian’s chest ached, a raw empathy clawing at him. He reached across the table, covering her hand with his. “I’m sorry, Bri,” he said softly. “No one should have to carry that.”

Her fingers trembled under his, but she didn’t pull away. “Thank you,” she murmured.

Sebastian hesitated, then spoke, his voice low. “I lost someone too. My brother, Sam. Cancer. He was nineteen.” He exhaled slowly, the words scraping raw even now. “He was the dreamer. Brilliant. Wanted to change the world with tech. I… wanted to build boats.” A wry smile flickered. “Wood, salt air, sawdust—that was my dream.”

Bri’s brows lifted, surprise softening her grief. “Boats?”

He nodded. “When Sam died, I couldn’t let his dream die too. So, I built C-Tech. Took his ideas and made them real. Every line of code, every device… it’s him. It’s all for him.”

Her eyes shimmered, warm and steady. “He’d be proud,” she whispered.

Sebastian swallowed hard, blinking away the sting in his eyes. “I hope so.”

The tablet chimed softly, screen flickering to life. Bri gasped, tears spilling fresh as the home screen appeared—Jaxon cradling newborn Sky, his smile bright against Montana’s mountains.

Sebastian slid the tablet toward her, voice gentle. “Safe and sound.”

Bri pressed a hand to her mouth, sobbing softly—but this time, it was joy. “You… you saved him,” she whispered.

Sebastian shook his head, voice rough. “No, Bri. You did. I just gave you back what was already yours.”

For a long moment, they sat in the quiet kitchen, rain tapping against the windows, their hands still touching. And Sebastian knew—this wasn’t just about a tablet. It was about trust. About hope. About something new stirring in the spaces where grief had lived too long.

Sebastian cleared his throat, breaking the quiet hum of rain against the windows. “About the cloud account,” he said gently. “I can’t hack it myself—but I have an intern who’s brilliant with security protocols. He can reset the login details so you’ll always have access. Whatever happens, those memories will be safe.”

Bri blinked, processing his words. “But… you’d have to take it?”

He nodded slowly. “I’d need to bring the tablet back to New York. It might take a week, then I’ll courier it straight to you.” His voice softened, steady as an anchor. “I promise, Bri—I’ll treat it like gold.”

She stared at the tablet, her fingers trembling. It wasn’t just a device. It was Jaxon. It was Sky’s first smile. It was every heartbeat of a life she’d lost. Trusting someone with that felt impossible—except it didn’t. Not with him.

Finally, she exhaled, passing the tablet across the table. “Okay,” she whispered. “I trust you.”

Sebastian’s chest tightened at the weight of those words. He took the tablet carefully, like it was something sacred. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I won’t let you down.”

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, fragile but real. “You already haven’t.”

For a long moment, they sat in the soft glow of the kitchen lamp, rain tapping against the glass, their hands brushing as the tablet changed ownership. And Sebastian knew—this wasn’t just about fixing tech. It was about mending something broken. About giving back pieces of a life that mattered.

And maybe, just maybe, finding a piece of his own.