Chapter 9
Sage finally slept sometime in the morning after tossing and turning all night.
It was past ten when she finally stirred, and there was a hint of winter sun through the curtains.
Her mouth felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton wool, her eyes heavy and swollen.
Not doing this again, she thought grimly. He isn't worth sacrificing my liver.
She gingerly braced herself as every joint screamed and dragged herself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
Silence. No footsteps, no voices. Only the throb in her skull—a migraine layered over a hangover—like one of those old cartoons where Bugs Bunny went at Elmer with a mallet, only this battlefield was her head.
She smiled faintly at the absurd thought.
Her stomach growled. When had she last eaten?
The craving came fast and clear, and only a greasy burger will do.
The nausea can stuff it. She stumbled downstairs, dug out the leftover patties she'd made in advance for next week's barbecue.
On the pan they went, then the buns and slapped together with ketchup and mayo.
No vegetables—no, thank you. It looked disgusting, but it tasted exactly like childhood rebellion.
She remembered carefully plucking the sad lettuce and squished tomato off her burger while her mother wasn't looking.
Greasy. Satisfying. The nausea slowly eased.
Now what?
Restlessness gripped her. She wanted to cook, but something different this time.
Maybe Mexican? Meal preps for the week, that’s it.
After all, a hint of spice gave Ronin the runs.
Perfect. She didn't allow herself to think about what she was prepping for.
She grabbed her keys, put her long puffer jacket on, because who cared what was underneath, and drove to the supermarket.
Soon, her cart was filled with peppers, limes, coriander, cheese, tortillas, meat, and a packet of the vanilla latte Oreos David loved. Why? Because he was still her son.
On the way home, she stopped at the ATM and withdrew ￡750. Then she transferred ￡10,000 into her new account.
The familiar guilt for taking money Ronin earned followed instantly, sitting on her chest like a dinosaur as she sat in her car.
Then she calculated the cost of a nanny over twenty years, and the dinosaur shrank to the size of a small dog.
Then she thought of perfect pregnant Amanda and the dog disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Her phone buzzed with a message from Ronin: Landed in Brussels. I love you.
Her mouth twisted in a sneer. I love you, indeed.
With the way she felt, if his plane had gone down, at least there'd have been insurance. If she was still his beneficiary. In this new shaky world, nothing felt certain. Another call lit up her screen.
Unknown number.
Probably spam. She disconnected and blocked it without answering.
Back home, she turned her kitchen into a storm.
She chopped onions, garlic, and tomatoes finely, frying them in hot oil until the air filled with their sweetness.
Then the minced beef, breaking it up with the wooden spoon until it browned.
Spices went in next: cumin, chili, paprika, coriander, all blooming into the air, stinging her eyes and clogging her nose.
She ladled in water, let the mixture simmer until it thickened, then spooned it into tortillas with fresh coriander, cheese, and a squeeze of lime.
Tacos. Two for herself, drowned in hot sauce.
Ronin would've wrinkled his nose and muttered something about his delicate palate while reaching for the Gaviscon.
Wuss, she thought and laughed before the queasiness returned.
Her phone buzzed again, this time with a message from an unknown number.
An ominous feeling invaded her chest as she clicked on it.
Hi, sorry, this is Amanda. Can we meet, please?
Sage stared at it, then deleted the message as if by reflex. And in just a second, her hard-won peace shattered like the illusion it was. She was an ostrich with her head in the sand, and the storm was looming, waiting to bury her.
David came home an hour later. When he saw her, he faltered, his guarded eyes hesitant and guilty.
She knew her son's expressions as well as her own—he wished he'd thought before he'd spoken.
But it had been two months. Two long months he'd held that betrayal close to his chest while giving nothing away.
He was fourteen not four and old enough to know what that would do to her.
Now, she could only turn away when he tried to speak, before she said something she couldn't take back.
At least there was food. Dozens of boxed meals lined the counter, proof she still had purpose in this house and in David’s life. She silently shoved everything into the freezer and retreated to her room.
From the drawer, she pulled out the new leatherbound journal she had bought on a whim. The letter she had written when her shock was at its peak stayed between the pages like a bookmark. She opened to the first page and picked up the attached pen.
Then, she wrote the words, I hate him, over and over again. Pressing harder and harder each time until the nib snapped.
The next two days followed the same pattern. It felt like a countdown in her head as a plan took shape, but she would need a few more days to put everything in place.
She drifted through life in a daze, her body going through the motions while her mind remained elsewhere. Breakfast on the table with cash for the cafeteria beside it. Permission slips signed in her neat hand, dinner waiting at night.
But no mother asked David how his day had gone in that annoying way she used to instead of letting him message his mates in peace. No questions about the maths challenge. No teasing remarks about girlfriends or maybe boyfriends. The house felt hollow, like a stage set abandoned mid-scene.
David tried to speak to her, but she couldn't meet his eyes.
Her phone filled with Ronin's messages, longer each time:
Ronin: Please. I know I don't deserve it, but I need you to hear me.Ronin: For David's sake, at least. Please don't shut me out.Ronin: I'll do therapy. I'll do couples counselling. I'll do anything.Ronin: Don't leave me. Please.Ronin: I love you.
Amanda's messages came too, insistent and careful, each longer than the last.
Can we meet?
I just need a moment. Please.
I just need to settle things.
On the fourth day, with Ronin due back that night, Sage finally gave in. She agreed to meet with the other woman in her husband's life.