Chapter 16
On the fourth day, the door banged open and Blair burst in, black eyeliner sharper than ever, purple streaks in her hair vivid against the grey light outside.
She was a beautiful girl, but she definitely needed an attitude adjustment.
She tossed her bag onto the floor and announced her arrival like the queen had driven into town.
That was when the real fun began.
Blair stayed for two nights. Sage quickly learned that the girl's hostility wasn't going to soften.
Her eyes, so much like Euan's, seemed to follow her around like she expected her to do away with the family silver.
Unsure of where she fit in the dynamic between them and with enough problems of her own, Sage tried to make herself scarce—retreating to her room with a book, only emerging for lunch and dinner.
But Euan had a habit of knocking at her door for the strangest things.
"Ye've no' seen the kettle cord, have ye?"
"Ye know how to get a wine stain out? It's my favourite ACDC T-shirt!"
"Does this soup need more salt?"
"Keep this torch by the bed, just in case the power goes."
"What's the name of that film wi' the lad and the dog?"
"I've opened this bottle of wine, and it'll go tae waste unless ye help me finish it."
"I swear this radiator was making funny noises."
Exasperated by the hundredth knock, Sage swung the door open. "What now, Euan? Haemorrhoid cream?"
And the best part was, Euan just laughed it off. Sage couldn't help but think of the time she made a comment like that to Ronin, and how he had sulked like a toddler.
Blair's face, on the other hand, was like a thundercloud hovering in the distance.
At lunch, Blair's jab hung sharp in the air.
"Bet ye've not had tae cook much in yer life," she said, her tone thick with scorn. "Gold-diggers usually don't."
Sage's fork kept moving. She’d spent the morning quietly prepping in the kitchen for her special meatloaf—browning the onions carefully, mixing the ground beef with just the right breadcrumbs and seasoning, shaping the loaf just right and glazing it with a sweet-tangy sauce so the edges caramelised just so.
She’d placed it centre-table, let the aroma waft first into the room, laid the plates with Euan’s grandmother’s linens, polished the cutlery until it caught the light. But Blair wasn’t easily won over.
Before she could decide whether to answer, Euan's voice cut in, with a tone she had not heard from him yet—though it wasn't stern enough.
"Blair. That's enough. You are twenty-one, not ten," he said, the vowels softer and rounder than usual. "I asked Sage to stay here. Ye need tae behave."
The rebuke was lukewarm, little more than a flick of water against a flame, but Sage appreciated it all the same. Blair rolled her heavily lined eyes, stabbing her food in exaggerated silence like the mashed potatoes were Sage's insides.
Later that afternoon, after another round of thinly veiled barbs, Euan turned to Sage, who was making her escape. "Do ye want tae walk doon tae the loch?"
She agreed with relief, and together, they strolled beneath the trees until the water opened into a quiet stretch.
He stooped to pick up a stone, weighing it in his palm before offering it to her.
"Ye want it flat," he explained, crouching at the bank.
"Smooth enough tae cut the water, but heavy enough tae carry. "
Sage folded her arms, pretending to listen with mock seriousness. "Oh? Is that how it's done?"
He cast the stone with a flick of his wrist, and it danced across the surface—one, two, three skips before sinking.
"Not bad," she said, then bent to select one of her own. She launched it with practiced ease, and it skipped four times before vanishing beneath the surface. She shot him a triumphant look.
His grin broke loose, warm and unguarded. "Ye've done this before."
"Once or twice."
They laughed together, closer than they should have been in just four days of knowing each other as the tension of the past day slipped away.
Then the laughter faded, and she noticed his gaze shift downwards, lingering on her mouth.
The air between them sparked with unspoken attraction, as if they'd stumbled into a spell neither wanted to break.
Before he could close the space, Sage blurted out in a rush. "I have a son, David. He's clever. Smarter than me, really. I'm so proud of him." Her throat suddenly filled with tears. "And I miss him...so much."
Euan's eyes softened. "Somethin' went wrong, did it no?" His voice was quiet, careful, as if coaxing the truth.
She looked away, blinking hard. "Everything went wrong."
He looked at her with those eyes like a still lake, and without a word, pulled her into a warm hug, arms closing around her in a way that felt both foreign and somehow everything she needed.
He was a stranger, and yet, somehow, they connected in a way that she hadn't with anyone in a long time.
For a moment, she let herself lean into him, breathing in the scent of soap and the faint spice of woodsmoke.
Then, a sharp voice cracked the air. "What's this supposed tae be?"
They broke apart to see Blair at the edge of the path, her expression a storm of betrayal and fury. Her arms were crossed, her glare fixed on Sage as though she'd stolen something that never belonged to her. She then proceeded to stomp off like a brat.
At dinner, it was worse. Blair waited until Euan left the room, then wrinkled her nose at the stew Sage had cooked. "Figures. Even your food tastes like it came out of a tin."
Sage clenched her jaw and ignored her, though it was getting harder to hold her tongue. Euan returned, none the wiser, and Blair's expression smoothed into boredom as she concentrated on her food.
When Blair left for a couple of days, Sage felt both relieved and unsettled. She and Euan had slipped back into their strange rhythm—dinners that sparked with electricity, silences that were heavy but not unfriendly.
She wasn't gone long, though. Blair stormed back on her motorbike with a friend, and they spent the evening trailing Sage, making snide comments.
But the barbs didn't stop this time—casual jabs about Sage's clothes, her hair, even her weight, the way she always "hung about" Euan.
But though Euan asked her to behave, he didn't rein her in, and refusing to play target, Sage had taken to eating quickly and escaping the table.
On the seventh night, her phone finally lit up with David's name. Ronin kept calling, but David had been silent all these days. Sage's chest squeezed as she answered.
"Mum?" His voice was sharp.
"David." She felt she could breathe again.
"Why did you leave?" His anger burst through. "You just...you left. Do you know what that did to me?"
Her throat closed. "I know, baby. I know. I love you. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"But you did," he shouted back. But then the words cracked, a sob breaking through. "Please. Please, Mum...please just come home."
Tears blurred her vision. "Soon, baby. I promise. Soon."
She hung up before her voice could betray her further.
When she turned, Blair was standing in the doorway before sliding away with a snide expression.
Later, as she lingered in the hall, Sage realised Blair had overheard her call with David earlier that evening.
The girl's expression was ugly as she whispered to her uncle, loud enough for Sage to catch, "She's stringing you along, Euan.
I heard her telling some David that she still loves him.
She's playing you both. She has abandoned someone and is now shacked up here. That's what women like her do."
The cruel, unnecessary words landed like a knife, and that was the final straw.
Sage deliberately got up, her voice shaking. "You need to grow up, Blair. You know nothing about me. Nothing."
The girl blinked, momentarily startled, but Sage barrelled on, her chest heaving.
"I didn't abandon anyone. Do you hear me?
I found out that my partner of more than twenty years had a child with another woman—an affair that went on for two years—while my own son knew and said nothing.
So, no, I didn't walk away on a whim; I walked away because my life blew up in my face. "
Blair opened her mouth, but Sage cut her off with a tremor in her voice that was equal parts fury and grief, "I don't know why you hate me.
Maybe it makes you feel powerful, maybe you think it's funny.
Or maybe you're just a spoilt brat. But let me be clear: I'm not after anything.
I'm paying your"—she jabbed a finger towards Euan, who had gone utterly still—"your uncle for the doubtful pleasure of staying here and enjoying your harassment.
I'll pay more if that's what it takes to make you shut up.
I didn't approach him; he approached me, though God knows why.
The way you behave, anyone would be forgiven for wondering if he is your uncle or your boyfriend.
I am leaving early tomorrow morning. Just leave me the hell alone until then. "
The room fell into stunned silence. Blair's eyes widened, but she had nothing to say. Euan had a strange expression on his face as he slowly pushed his chair back and stood. He seemed about to speak when Sage put her hand up.
"Not another word from you. I don't know why you helped me, and this time here has helped, but my life is complicated enough as it is.
So, if you could call me a cab or drop me off in town tomorrow, I will be on my way.
And now I am off to bed. Your niece...she needs help if she is treating others like this.
If my son"—she deliberately looked at Blair—"David behaved like this, he would be grounded for the next two months.
And he behaves better at fourteen than you do at twenty-one. "
Sage, trembling now, turned away, her hands clenched into fists. She had run her mouth and did she care? NO. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.