Because her thoughts were bitter and brutal, she closed it so Sebastian wouldn’t be subject to them. “I could say the same for you.”“Jetlag.” He shrugged, standing with his hands in his pockets.“Still?” She arched her brow, gesturing to the coffee she’d made. “You’ve been here for too long to have jetlag.”“You’re right. I have mental issues.” He poured himself a cup. “Mind if I join you?”“Of course not.” She cradled her coffee in her hand, even though it’d gone cold. “We can compare notes for our mental illnesses.”“I’m relieved to see we’re in the same boat.” He sat across from her. “You want to share first, or should I?”“You go first,” she said, sitting back. “Aside from the fact that you have no family, I know nothing about you, Sebastian.”“I’m an enigma.” He raised his cup to her, drank a careful sip, and then shrugged. “I lived in New York.”“Lived?”“I’m having an existential crisis that makes me question where I might actually belong.”“Aren’t we all?”
