"I don't understand..." he murmured at last, staring out at the blurred streetlights.
Sage exhaled, her hands tightening on the wheel. "Neither do I, but it is what it is."
He turned slightly towards her, his face haunted. "I loved her so much."
Her lips pressed together. "I know," she whispered.
He looked away again, the window reflecting a hollow man.
After a while, she asked, "Do you have friends? Family?"
He nodded faintly.
"You're taking this very well," he said suddenly, his voice edged with bewilderment.
She gave a short, hollow laugh. "I've had a couple of weeks for it to sink in. It destroyed me when I found out...but I know I need to go on." Her knuckles whitened against the steering wheel. "I was never Ronin's first choice, you know. It was Amanda's sister. He grieved her. I was just the stupidplaceholder who stayed for a couple of decades. If you feel foolish, just think of how I feel." She forced herself to breathe. "But I have a beautiful son, and I can't give up. I've come to realise...even if I was never Ronin's first choice, I can still be someone else's."
Her eyes flicked towards him, then back to the road. "I think Jenny is yours. Ronin and I tried for years for a second child. So, at least there's that."
When she pulled up outside his house, James lingered with his hand on the door handle. His voice was raw, almost childlike. "You must think I am an awful person to leave Jenny with her. But I know she would never hurt Jenny."
He was silent for a minute before he asked, "Why are you doing this for me?"
Sage looked at him squarely. "Because in many ways, we're in the same boat. And we need to decide where to go from here. But tonight, you shouldn't be alone. Call someone to stay with you."
His throat bobbed. "I will. Thank you."
Sage hesitated. "Give me your mobile."
She keyed in her number. "In case you want to talk. Because no one can understand better than I can...trust me. Don't let one scheming woman destroy your light."
He nodded as if not daring to speak.
When he stepped out, his posture was heavy and defeated. She watched him walk to the door and disappear inside, the weight of his broken marriage and uncertain fatherhood bending him with every step.
Chapter 24
The drive home was hushed, the road a blur of darkening hedges and low lamps. Sage's thoughts circled endlessly—James's hollow eyes, Amanda's unravelling lies, Jenny's life in chaos, even as it barely started, Ronin's stricken face in the doorway. But through it all, there was one she needed to focus on over all the others, the light of her life, David. By the time she pulled into the drive, the last streak of light had bled from the sky.
She sat for a moment in the car, hands on the wheel, breathing through the ache in her chest. She had come to realize over the last year that these few weeks after her period would be the time when her mind worked best, so she needed to use them. In another three weeks, her mood will dip and her ability to get out of bed in the morning will be questionable. So, gathering herself, she stepped out.
Before she could reach for the handle, the front door flew open. Ronin stood there, wild-eyed, as if he'd been pacing and watching for her.
"Is she still here?" she asked with dread.
"No...no, I called her an uber," he said, his eyes not able to hold hers for long, flitting away before returning for another look. "I set my lawyer on her and she had finally agreed to the test. James is coming as well."
She looked at him and sighed, weariness pulling at every line of her face. "We need to talk," she said softly. "But first, I need to eat something. And then I need to rest. We've all had enough for one day."
David hovered behind his father, uncertain, his school jumper still bunched at the sleeves. Without a word, they shifted aside to let her pass.
In the kitchen, the smell hit her first. Chinese takeout, laid out in neat little paper boxes across the counter. Sweet and sour chicken. Szechuan noodles. Crispy spring rolls. Dumplings glistening in chili oil. All her favourites.
For a moment, she stood still, happy memories tugging at her—those early nights when they were just students, laughing as they fumbled with chopsticks, Ronin pretending to know what he was doing until noodles slipped down his shirt. It had been so long since he'd thought of doing something like this for her.
Too late, she thought, though her stomach growled with hunger.
They sat together at the table, eating in silence. She kept her gaze on her plate, only looking up to murmur, "Pass the water," or to ask David about school and football practice. She did not once look at Ronin. His presence seemed to hover over her, but she treated him like a ghost.
