He looked at her then, eyes brimming. "I should've gotten rid of it years ago. I didn't know you knew. I built Mia and me into something it wasn't, remembering only the good and forgetting all the bad. And all the while, I ignored you. Because you were always there. Always loving me. And I thought you'd never leave."
His voice dropped, raw. "When Amanda came along—when she pursued me—it was like being twenty again. Like Mia all over again. The irony that she is Mia's sister isn't lost on me. It stroked my ego; I let myself drown in it."
At last, he dared to look up. Sage's head was bowed, her shoulders rigid. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, dropping into the soil, darkening it. She wiped her face roughly, leaving a smudge across her porcelain skin.
Ronin's eyes filled, his voice breaking. "It's useless to say this, but...I'm truly sorry for everything I put you through. Give me a chance, Sage. I can't lose you. I'm begging...I'm lost without you."
She lifted her tear-streaked face to him, anguish twisting her features. Her voice came out raw, ragged. "My whole life has been a lie. You've used me. You should have let me go a long time ago. Anything would've been better than this. I am not even second best...I am not even on the fucking list."
Her words struck like a blow, sharper than any silence. And Ronin, weeping openly now, realised he had nothing left to shield himself with as he watched her rise and make her way back to the house.
Chapter 30
Sage pushed herself upright, every joint protesting. Her head throbbed, and nausea clawed at her throat, but whether it was the sun, the day, or the man sitting beside her, she couldn't tell.
She didn't look down at him hunched over at her feet. She just couldn't stomach looking at his lying face. Her voice was low, steady and forged of steel. "I need you to move out today."
Ronin jerked his head up. "Sage..."
"Have you changed your mind about the house?" she asked in the same monotone.
"No," he said.
"Then I want you to get your filthy arse out of my house. Today."
He stared at her, green eyes fierce, willing her to look at him. She didn't. Silence stretched until finally he gave a small nod. "Alright."
"And I want you to talk to David before you leave."
"All right," he said quietly
Without another glance, she started to walk away.
"This isn't over, Sage. Don't throw all our years together. I will do better. I will win you back."
She met his pleading eyes, her own steady, cold with exhaustion. "Those years you're clinging to? That life was in my head too like a phantom I couldn’t escape, Ronin. I built our life together like a dream, carried it alone, and pretended it was real. But like every one-sided dream, it has to end. Everyone's patience has a limit...and I crossed mine a long time ago."
Once inside, her first impulse was to run upstairs, shut the door, and bury herself in silence and tears. But why should she hide? She hadn't done anything wrong. She forced herself to the sink and drank a glass of water. Her hands shook, but she forced herself to drink another. She didn't look when she heard him come inside or make his way upstairs.
Macaroni and cheese—that's what she craved. She moved mechanically, boiling the pasta, whisking the sauce. She stared at nothing in particular, deep in her head, until the oven beeped. Then she pulled on the mitts, took out the bubbling dish, and scooped herself a large helping.
As she carried it into the cavernous sitting room, she heard Ronin's steps overhead. He hadn't left yet, just moving from room to room.
Let him pace.
The fork scraped softly against the dish as she ate, the creamy saltiness soothing her. Her gaze drifted around the room—the wide space, the twelve-seater dining table, the glass conservatory beyond, and then thought of the five bedrooms upstairs. Too much house for one woman and a boy nearly grown. She'd never wanted something this big.
But the garden...yes, she loved that.
She thought about the money already sitting in her account, of the house that would soon be legally hers. If she were careful, she’d never have to work again. If nothing else, Ronin had kepthis word on that. She was almost surprised her mother-in-law hadn't turned up yet, wagging her tongue and piling on the shame for not being enough to keep her husband satisfied.
Let her come.
There was one thing her indifferent mother had unknowingly taught her, back when their lives had blown apart under the weight of her father's infidelity---never let yourself be dependent financially on your husband or partner. It had been the single shard of wisdom she carried from that woman who should have never been a mother.
And Sage had forgotten it. Forgotten her history, and so she was condemned to repeat it—walking the same cracked path her mother's life had warned her against. The realization settled heavy in her chest, equal parts grief and resolve. This time, she promised herself, she would not forget. She would find herself a job.
The door creaked open, and David came in. She could hear him go to the kitchen, then come looking for her. To her surprise, he crossed straight to her, wrapping his arms around her. She froze for a heartbeat, then pulled him close, holding him just a second longer than he intended.
