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I need more sleep. I want to forget about what happened earlier, pretend it was a nightmare.
I hope I’ll wake up to a different outcome.
We had a goal, and Tristan’s priority has to be getting that money. It’ll be our ruin if he doesn’t receive it because of me.
Falling for Tristan was easy. The easiest thing I’ve ever done.
And losing him will be the hardest.
28
Tristan
Sage didn’t convince me that she was okay yesterday, and I’m going insane. When Julie tells me she isn’t at work, my worry gets the worst of me.
If something happened to her and I wasn’t there . . .
I shake my head. I can’t think that way, but I’m going to see her today.
My steps take control of my body and lead the way with determination. I have to see her. I send her another message in the sea of unanswered ones sitting on my phone and pocket it. It will only torment me more if I hold it.
My body buzzes with nerves and fear. It’s unlike Sage to not communicate at all. I swallow thickly, heart pounding at the thought that there is more to her silence than not feeling well.
She’s become such an important part of my life—the most important—and the idea of losing her makes me want to puke.
But I won’t go down without a fight, even if I have to hold a vomit bag.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I’d fall for someone. Then, this barista shows up in my life, serving coffees and smiles, turning me inside out.
Between talking to her at the coffee shop and getting to know her as my fake girlfriend, I fell for her for real. There’s nothing fake about this pressure in my chest or the way my stomach jumps when I see her. Or about the fear storming inside of me at the thought of losing her.
Her smile lights up a room, and her sass keeps me on my toes. Not to mention her brain—it’s sexy. Sage is everything I want in a woman. Everything I need. I refuse to lose her now. Not when we have a real chance.
After a thirty-minute walk, I stand in front of Sage’s house, except her car isn’t in the driveway. I scratch the side of my head and walk up to the front door, knocking. I wait and wait and wait. Then, I ring the doorbell.
Nothing.
I plop down on the steps, calling Sage again, only for it to go directly to voicemail. I grip the phone forcefully, resisting the urge to throw it across the driveway. A smashed phone won’t do me any good.
My phone rings, and I fumble to answer it. My heart drops when I see my dad’s name on the caller ID and not Sage. I hit ignore. He’s been calling me nonstop, but I don’t have time for him.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and drop my head into my hands. I refuse to move until I see Sage. She’ll have to come home eventually. Or her parents will, and they’ll be able to tell me if she’s okay. I just need to make sure she’s okay.
My mind races and my heart plummets at the idea that this could be it. I could lose her. Maybe she realized I’m not the person she wants. Why else would she be ghosting me?
We did start unconventionally. Although, what I feel for her is anything but unconventional or fake. It’s the most real thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s on par with the way I felt the first time a small child hugged me and thanked me for helping save his life.
Sage is to me what I am to those children.
A guiding light. A ray of hope. She’s my purpose.
I sigh, shaking my head and rubbing my face. Tires rolling against asphalt hit my ears, and I look up. Sage’s car is pulling up the driveway, so I stand to look at her, except her mom is driving.
She’s wearing a grim expression when she steps out. Instead of walking to the house, she opens the back door and bends.
Everything happens in slow motion when I see Sage step out of the car with a grimace. I’m instantly by her side, wrapping my arm around her waist.
“Are you okay?” Panic rises inside of me.
