With all my love, always,
Mum
There was no letter for Ronin. Let him bring his new family into the house; let him throw her things out. She didn't care anymore.
Finally, she called a taxi, timing it to half an hour before Ronin's flight was due to land. She waited in the back of the car and watched the familiar car pull into the driveway, headlights flashing briefly against the windows.
She watched as Ronin parked his car before giving the gruff driver the only words she could manage.
“To the train station, please."
Chapter 11
Four days ago...
Ronin packed his own suitcase for the first time in years. The shirts were folded crookedly; the ties crumpled at the edges. Sage had always done this for him—everything in neat piles, even ticking items off her little checklist with that absent-minded hum which used to annoy him as he worked on his laptop. She just laughed in good humour and said it helped her concentrate. You don't know what you have until it is gone. He stood over the half-open case now, staring at the mess, and thought of how stupid he had been.
She had been cooking for them, keeping the house in order, making sure David had his meals, his kit, his rides. She had carried the weight of them all while he...Ronin swallowed...while he had betrayed her. Worse, it was his fault David had lied, too. David admired him, of course he did—he was his father. And now, Sage thought he had chosen Ronin over her, keeping her in the dark. They had been so close, mother and son, and Ronin had shattered that bond. He had hurt them both. It was not surprising David hated him now.
He hated himself.
He hadn't slept since the day Sage found out about his sordid deeds. Since they became a couple, he had never spent a night apart from her, except when he travelled. Even then, the night before leaving was always the hardest. He would toss and turn, then pull her warm body close while Sage slept like the dead. He would feel relief, knowing he could come home in not too many days. But not this time.
The last year had been nothing but a balancing act—placating Amanda, trying to keep her from spiralling, supporting her through the pregnancy, all while pretending normalcy with his family. Every day the lie weighed heavier, crushing his chest until it was hard to breathe. He told himself he was salvaging what he could, holding things together. But in the end, the truth had spilled out in all its ugliness, anyway.
He was a cheat and a liar.
He tried to summon Amanda's face in his mind, the way she had looked in those early months. The cheap thrill of it came back first—the shock of excitement when she had unzipped him that very first time and had taken him in her mouth, the rush of forbidden novelty that had clouded his judgment. Or the night she'd pushed him back onto his office couch, stripping off her clothes in a frenzy, like she couldn't bear not having him inside her for a second longer.
At the time, it had made him feel wanted, powerful, and young again. But the thrill never lasted. Seconds, that was all—seconds before it curdled into a hollow nothingness, twisted through with shame.
And worse, he knew what Sage's father had done, how his betrayals had broken her childhood, made her believe love was conditional and fragile. She had trusted Ronin not to be that man, but he was no better. He had become the exact thing she had feared the most.
He remembered thinking during the early days that he might be in love with Amanda. He had told himself he was, because otherwise, he would have had to admit the truth—that he had thrown away his relationship and everything Sage had given him for moments of distraction.
Even a few days ago, he had clung to the lie that there had been something real in it, some meaning. But when he stripped it bare in the silence of their bedroom with the whisky burning his throat like acid, he couldn't deny it any longer. It had never been love ; it was just empty pleasure, and he had sacrificed the one person who mattered most for an adrenaline rush.
He stepped into the shower, letting the hot water beat down on him, trying to wash away the tears that came unbidden. He had destroyed everything, and he didn't know if there was any way back from this nightmare he had trapped them in with his actions. Would Sage ever forgive him? Did he even deserve to be forgiven?
It was past midnight when he made his way to the guest bedroom, hoping to catch her before she disappeared into herself again. He worried about the bottle he'd seen in her hand. Sage could barely get through half a beer without feeling tipsy. He had sat with his back to her door, listening to her haunting sobs, listening her shuffle around. David had come out once, saw him there in the hallway, and turned back without a word.
His fault.
All of it.
The house had finally fallen silent around two. He had gone in then, just to be sure she was all right. In the low light, she lay naked on her side, passed out, the empty bottle on the floor, tipped on its side. He had pulled the bedspread gently over her, arranging it so she wouldn't be cold. He hadn't touched her, though God, he wanted to. Her beloved body wasn't his to touch anymore—he had lost that right. He sat in the chair until dawn.
When morning came, he had driven to the airport and used the valet parking before boarding the plane to Brussels with a sinking feeling in his heart. The flight attendant leaned down and asked what he'd like. "Whisky," he rasped once, and then again after he had down the first round. Anything to drown out the images in his mind: Sage's face when she looked at him, the misery in her eyes. His PA, Gage, had looked surprised but kept his peace.
The next three days muddled together. Amanda's messages lit up his phone in a relentless stream.
Amanda:She smiled today, I swear she has your eyes. Sending you a photo. Amanda:I would like to do the DNA test, but James is getting suspicious. I am terrified.Amanda:He asked me who I was messaging. I lied. I said it was a mum from my birthing group. I can't keep this up.Amanda:I miss you. I miss the way you make me feel.Amanda:Please, Ronin. Say something.
Ronin sat on the edge of his hotel bed, his phone seemed to grow heavier with every new message. He sighed, dragging a palm over his face. He hadn't answered her, not one of them. What was there left to say? He had told her they would talk after the DNA test. He had nothing left to lose.
He thumbed over to Sage's thread. Dozens of messages there, too, but all his, short and stilted.
Are you eating?I'm sorry. Please let me explain.Sage, just answer. Please.
