Afterwards, Ronin rose without being asked muttering that he would do it. He gathered the cartons, scraped leftovers into the bin, rinsed plates, and loaded the dishwasher. She noticed how careful his hands were, how practiced.Old skills, relearned due to necessity,she thought with irony. Once, that might have touched her, but now it only deepened the ache of what was lost.
When the last dish clinked into place in the dishwasher, she lifted her eyes at last. They were cool, unreadable, and Ronin flinched under their indifference.
"We'll talk tomorrow about what to do," she said evenly. "But I don't want to live with you anymore."
David shifted, his fork clattering against his plate. She turned to him gently. "I would prefer if you stayed with me, but I'll leave the decision to you, David. I have to be fair. Your dad needs to work, and I'll need to find work, too."
The silence throbbed until Ronin broke it with a whisper. "Sage..." His voice cracked. "I just want to make this clear. That child...she's not mine. She can't be."
Her head tilted, her gaze steady. "You can't be sure."
"I am," he insisted as panic crept in.
She shook her head, voice hardening. "And even if she isn't, you betrayed me for two years, Ronin.Two years.That child is innocent and the least of our problems."
Her words hung between them as final as a slammed door. His blurry eyes followed her as she moved to the stairs.
Chapter 25
Upstairs, Sage pushed open the door to the guest bedroom. The bed was unmade, a pile of her clothes heaped in the center. She caught the faint scent of her shampoo on them—proof Ronin had moved them here at some point, maybe clumsily trying to tidy up, maybe just shoving them aside.
She pulled the clothes off, folded them onto the chair, and smoothed the covers. She was just about to take a shower when a soft knock came at the door.
"Mum?"
David's head poked around the frame. His eyes were red, his face blotchy, a fourteen-year-old trying too hard to look older than he was. She motioned to the little sofa across from the bed, but he stayed rooted by the door, unsure if he was allowed any closer.
Finally, he came inside, hesitant, and when she didn't send him away, he sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a small distance from her. It broke her heart to see him so unsure. His shoulders hunched forward, as if the stress of the whole evening pressed down on him.
"Mum, I'm so sorry for what I said," he whispered into her hair when she drew him close.
"I just thought..." His voice faltered, halting. "With all the fighting...maybe you and Dad would be better off apart. Like Patrick's mum and pa. They fight less now. I thought it'd be like that."
Sage moved back just enough to look at him. For that moment, Amanda, Ronin, the whole house faded away—there was only her son.
"You thought I'd be better off apart from your father?"
He shrugged helplessly, then shook his head, voice breaking in places from the transition from boy to man. "I didn't want you with a liar, even if it is my dad. I thought it would hurt less if you knew...if you knew I'd be okay with it. But I..." His fists clenched at his sides. "I said it wrong. I was so stupid. I thought I was helping. Instead, you left. You just left."
Her hands folded together tightly, knuckles burning. Then she raised her hand to run her fingers through his dark hair, which sorely needed a cut.
"I needed time, David," she said softly. "Time to think. I felt like I couldn't breathe here."
"You could've thought here," he blurted, half-accusation, half-plea.
She shook her head. "No, I couldn't. How can I make you understand?" Her voice trembled. "All I ever wanted was you and your father. That's all. And I hoped...prayed...that to you, we were the same. But to you, I'm just the mum who cooks and cleans and has been...off lately. And your dad's the brilliant, handsome guy who deserves more."
"Don't..."
"Let me finish. This is what I felt...but I shouldn't have assumed," she whispered, twisting her fingers. "I had to leave before I did something you'd hate me for. Because for thosefirst few days, David...all I could think about was stepping into the road and letting it all stop. I never thought I could be that person, but I was. And it scared me."
He flinched, blinking fast.
"I'm sorry I left you," she went on, tears spilling unchecked. "But don't you see? I just wanted to be first in someone's heart, even if that person was me. To your dad, I was second best after his girlfriend at uni. And now I'm second best to the woman he wants—the prettier, daintier, thinner, smarter version of me. And to you..." Her voice cracked. "I'm not enough. I thought you'd prefer I was more like her, and I just couldn't bear it."
David's face crumpled. "No," he whispered hoarsely. "God, no. I didn't think that at all. I didn't know you would feel that way. I'm sorry, Mum. I'm so sorry."
Her arms trembled as she held him close, her child again, her most precious achievement. His shoulders were broader now, he towered above her, but to her, he was still her little boy.
