"That's not fair."
"Not fair? NOT FAIR? I will tell you what’s not fair. It's not fair that I've had to look at Mum every day knowing...knowing what you've done. And not saying a word." His voice cracked. "Do you know how wrong that feels? I lied to her without even opening my mouth."
Ronin swallowed. "I was going to tell her—"
"You were going to tell her when it wasconvenient. Whenyouwere ready. Meanwhile, I had to pretend nothing was wrong. I'm her son; I should've told her. I should've been on her side."
The words landed like punches because they were true. And he was the one who put David in that untenable position.
David looked away, jaw tight. "I thought I should let you both talk it out and solve your problems. You have been fighting all the fucking time. I thought not telling was the right thing...but it wasn't. I've been wrong this whole time."
Ronin had no defence. Only the sour taste of guilt, thick and choking.
David had stayed silent for weeks after, only breaking it to say, "If you're both unhappy, then you should have split before you ever thought of another woman. Even I know that much." He'd mentioned his friend Paul's divorced parents, who now got along fine. David assumed Ronin had just grown apart from Sage. Maybe that was true.
Back then, Ronin had thought that all she seemed to talk about lately was grocery lists, her books, David's matches. But it was the mood swings—like the shouting match when she'd told him tojust order takeout for once without any input from me. Orcan you not make a fuss about every single speck of dust in thishouse. Or her favourite recently-I am not your servant. He'd thought she was being petty. She only had to manage the house while he was working hard all day. Why couldn't he have peace when he got home? Didn't he break his back, working day and night to make sure his family had everything they needed?
Now he wasn't sure as his son refused to make eye contact and skirted him like he was contagious. Maybe it was the years of resentment for his absence finally showing. Or maybe it was just him not listening.
Sage sat cross-legged on the guest bed, the blanket pooled in her lap, staring at nothing. Her mind had been chasing itself in tight, airless circles, chewing over the same questions until they frayed and reformed. At her lowest point, the thought had flickered,wouldn’t it be easier to just step onto the road and let a bus do the rest?But the thought was gone as quickly as it came, leaving only the shame of having considered it.
The door opened, and her heart lurched. She didn't want to talk; she didn't even want to be looked at. She kept her eyes down, ready to tell Ronin to leave.
But it wasn't Ronin.
It was David.
Her restless fingers stilled on the blanket.
He hesitated in the doorway, then stepped in, a tray balanced awkwardly in his hands. He dragged the chair from the desk and set the tray down on the side table, with two thick halves of a ham sandwich, a mug of soup that he must have reheated, and a carafe of water. He sat, knees bumping the bedframe.
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that his brown hair, the same shade as hers, had grown too long.He needs a haircut,her mind automatically added to her to-do list, as if this were just another ordinary afternoon.
"I'm... I'm so sorry," he said finally, his young voice low. "I just... I thought if you both were unhappy..." He glanced at the tray, then back at her. "That's what my friends said. That I shouldn't snitch. Let you both decide."
She kept her eyes on the blanket, but said nothing.
"Can you please talk to me?", he begged with a wobble in his voice.
Her throat felt dry from disuse. She sniffed, then finally spoke, her hoarse voice sounding unfamiliar even to herself. "My baby...you're not the boy I thought you were...and I can't talk to you yet. I need more time."
He shifted in the chair, looking at her as though willing her to meet his eyes.
"Think about this," she said, still staring down. "If I did this to you...if I kept something like this from you...would you forgive me easily?"
He didn't answer.
She still didn't look up. "I need some time. “she repeated. “Please go."
The chair scraped softly as he stood. He waited, as if expecting her to change her mind like all those other times when his mum had given in. A minute ticked by, then he walked away, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving only the faint smell of soup cooling beside her.
Chapter 7
The house was as silent as a tomb.
Sage woke at six, just like she always did. She automatically went through the motions of brushing her teeth and washing her haggard face. As she brushed her teeth while standing at the bathroom sink, she happened to look down. Her engagement ring, the one she never took off, was still on her finger. It took a bit of effort, but with soap and a struggle, she slipped it off and set it on the counter. Then, on impulse, she picked it back up and slid it into her pyjama pocket.
Then she padded downstairs, the boards feeling cool under her bare feet. Two slices of bread went into the toaster. No eggs—her stomach would just send them back up at the speed of light. The medication had eased the migraine, but not the heaviness in her head. If procrastination was an art, then she would win the Oscar for it.
