Chapter 43

The mood changed as the easy banter evaporated. David looked uneasy, pushing his crusts around his plate while trying to navigate this new situation where his dad and his mom's new boyfriend were in the same room.

David shrugged, then grinned nervously. "Yeah. Just making the presentation. I'm a bit nervous, but at least my grades were decent last year."

"You'll do fine," Ronin said firmly. "Tell you what; how about I come round in the mornings and take you to school? Or I can carpool with Patrick's dad." He looked at Sage. "That alright with you?"

Her smile was encouraging. "It's fine."

She never wanted to be the one who stood between David and Ronin. She knew David loved and looked up to his dad.

Euan stretched, dusting crumbs from his hands. "Well, I should get goin'."

He proceeded to stack the used plates and take them to the kitchen.

"You need a lift?" Ronin asked, too quickly...and maybe a little eagerly.

"Nah," Euan replied with deliberate ease. "I live just over there. Three doors down," he enunciated slowly. His smile was pleasant enough, but Sage heard the smugness underneath, clear as a bell.

"I'll see you out," she said, standing quickly because she was sure Ronin had questions.

David piped up, eyes on Euan, "When will you come online?"

"In an hour," Euan said, smirking. "But your mum's gonna confiscate our Xboxes if yer grades drop, lad."

David laughed, his tension easing just a little.

Sage walked ahead through the narrow hall, suddenly aware of every breath.

Behind her, Euan's presence filled the space, and then his hand brushed up and clasped the back of her neck where her messy bun had left her bare.

The touch sent a shiver spiralling down her spine.

Never in her life had she felt so petite.

Ronin was a head taller than her, but Euan was like a giant next to her.

They stepped out onto the covered porch, and as soon as the door clicked shut, he turned her by that hold on her neck and kissed her silly—hard and hungry, the kind of kiss that left her knees weak and her lips swollen.

She knew exactly what it was; it was an I'm-going-to-make-your-ladybits-tingle-before-you-walk-back-in kind of kiss.

His eyes twinkled as he leaned close. "If ye hear a knock on the window, it's not Dracula, just me climbin' the tree, askin' ye to let me in."

"Just use the front door, Euan, for God's sake," she deadpanned, breathless. "And try to tone down the dick-measuring. Next, you will be peeing a circle around my house."

"Gotto hydrate and get ready, then." He grinned. "Alright, I confess...I just got a little jealous. He makes me look like a lumberjack with his polished suit and cufflinks, aye."

Her lips curved, wicked. "Maybe I find lumberjacks sexy. Maybe I can't wait until one shows me what shower sex is all about."

His eyes went molten, intense enough to steal her breath. She tapped a quick kiss against his lips before it could get dangerous. "Later."

When she slipped back inside, Ronin was still talking to David, their heads bent together over the pizza box.

Sage didn't interrupt; instead, she carried the leftover food and used dishes into the kitchen and began unpacking her life, one familiar piece at a time—her slow cooker, her bread bin, her heavy cast iron saucepans.

Each settled into place. This new beginning looked promising.

The kitchen was warm and golden, all honeyed wood and white cupboards, the beams overhead lending it a country charm.

A heavy island stood in the centre, its butcher-block top worn smooth from years of use.

Against the far wall gleamed the great steel fridge and a range cooker, their modern shine softened by the brown rustic tiles underfoot.

Sage moved quietly among the cupboards, sliding her favourite mismatched mugs onto the shelf—some chipped, some painted in odd colours, collected over years. She smiled faintly at the one David had given her last Mother's Day, the scrawl on the side: Mom, sorry, I am the reason you drink.

From the other room came the muted murmur of voices.

"Goodnight, Dad. See you tomorrow," David said.

"Don't oversleep," Ronin replied. "I'll be here at seven-thirty."

She heard the creak of the stairs as David took the steps two at a time to his bedroom upstairs. She did not doubt there would soon be the muffled, bloodcurdling screams only teenagers could make—rage being vented at Fortnite and the unsuspecting furniture.

Sage huffed a laugh under her breath, stirring the tea. The sound was so familiar, so ordinary, even as she felt Ronin's presence fill the kitchen doorway.

Footsteps followed, measured and familiar, until she felt the familiar tension in the air. Even without turning, she knew he was watching.

"Want a cup of tea?" she asked, her voice steady as she reached for the kettle.

"Yeah," he said, moving further in and settling onto a stool at the island, watching her in silence.

The kettle hissed, steam clouding the warm glow of the kitchen lights.

Sage focused on the swirl of milk in her mug, on the spoon clinking against porcelain.

Wordlessly, she took a mug from the cupboard, set the tea bag in, and poured the hot water.

Then, taking a deep breath without even realizing it, she turned to face him.

With a clarity that made her chest feel strange, she realized she was always on eggshells around Ronin.

Always holding her breath, measuring herself, softening her words.

It wasn't even Ronin's fault. He expected peace at home, and she had twisted herself in knots trying to give it, as if disturbing his calm was a sin.

The guilt was a familiar weight. Every flare of temper, every snapped word, every outburst during these last few confusing years.

..she had carried them like scars, convinced it was her failing, her body and mind out of control.

But the truth whispered back now, relentless, because even before David, the cracks had been there. ..she had just refused to see them.

She set the mug down on the island in front of him, her hand trembling faintly as she pulled back to clutch her mug.

Ronin cradled the mug she'd set in front of him, staring into the steam as though the right words might rise from it. His voice was low when he finally spoke. "Are you with him? With Euan?"

There was pain in the question, pain in the way his eyes lifted to hers.

Sage's breath caught, but she didn't look away. Her grey eyes shone, steady despite the twist in her chest. "Yes. It might seem too soon...but I think I may be in love with him."

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