Chapter 15
ADAIR
Adair sat in his car outside Sabine's house, engine off, hands gripping the wheel like he was trying to stop himself from something. He'd been out here for ten minutes. Maybe more. The street was quiet, except for the occasional bark of a dog. His phone buzzed twice and he didn’t check it. He wasn’t here for distractions.
He was here because he owed her more than what he’d given her.
He’d pushed her.
The moment played in his head over and over.
No matter how many times he tried to downplay it—tried to call it a reaction or say he hadn’t meant it—the truth stayed the same.
He’d put his hands on the mother of his children.
There was no excuse for that. No rewinding it, no justifying it.
And the sick part was, it wasn’t even the first hurt. Just the last straw.
Sabine never really got true closure or healing from any of it.
Not from the cheating. Not from the disappearing act.
Not from his lies. Soon as she left him, they tried to find their way back to each other, dragging themselves through half-fixes and late-night conversations that always ended the same way.
Adair rubbed his hands together and blew out a breath, as if that would cool the guilt burning in his chest. He hadn’t come to beg.
He wasn’t expecting forgiveness, and he damn sure wasn’t expecting a hug or a tearful reunion.
He just needed to tell her the truth. All of it.
The version he used to lie to himself about. The version she deserved.
He stepped out the car slowly, shutting the door with a soft click. Her porch light was still on, even though the sun had already started its descent behind the trees. He climbed the steps while his heart was on edge. He didn’t know if she’d open the door, let alone let him speak.
But she did.
Sabine looked surprised to see him. Like she hadn’t expected him to show up in person. Her expression flickered between confusion, wariness, and something else he couldn’t name. Not hate but definitely not softness either.
“It’s my week with him.”
“I know…I…I just need a minute,” he said. His voice wasn’t commanding, wasn’t cocky. It was leveled. Tired. Real. She hesitated, then stepped aside.
The house was clean, calm. Lived-in. He saw Ade’s toys pushed against the corner, a blanket folded neatly on the couch. He remembered buying that couch together. Back when they thought forever was still possible.
They sat. A cushion apart.
Silence.
And then he said it.
“I’m sorry,” he released and Sabine’s eyes didn’t leave him. She waited. Like she needed more. “For the party,” he continued. “For pushing you. For everything, really. All the ways I hurt you. Old and new.”
Her arms were folded. She blinked, slow. “You shouldn’t have come here if you were just gonna say sorry for that. All your sorry’s are just sorry’s.”
“I know.”
“You said sorry before and—”
“I lied before.” That got her. She turned her head a little, her arms dropping.
“I told you that I wasn’t with her that night.
That it was all just—” he stopped himself from repeating excuses.
“At the end of the day, I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.
I wasn’t with you. Or Ade. I wasn’t answering my phone… I was with Corrine.”
Sabine’s inhale was sharp but silent. Her throat moved, but she didn’t speak.
He continued. “I was drunk. It was late. I didn’t think you’d need me that night, I didn’t even think—” he caught himself, shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. I made the choice and you went through all of that alone. You gave birth to our daughter, Sabine. Alone.”
Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away before they could fall. “I screamed your name,” she said quietly. “I kept calling. Pam was trying to find you. Narri and my sister were on FaceTime—”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t,” she snapped. “You don’t know what that night did to me. What it took from me.”
“And I will never forgive myself for that.”
Her jaw tightened. “You don’t get to center your guilt. That’s not what this is about.”
“You’re right.”
Sabine stood up. Her hands were shaking.
She felt like this was the moment. She would finally get to say the things she never got to express wholly.
“You let me hold her by myself. You let me scream into an empty room. You let me lose alone. I needed you and you were out with a woman who—who you eventually ended up—”
“Sleeping with.” Silence. “I didn’t mean for it to happen but I let it…and it broke us…for good.”
Sabine’s whole body stilled. Then, she laughed but it wasn’t a joyful sound. It was bitter.
Adair knew she’d never heard him say it that plainly before.
Never heard him actually own it out loud instead of dancing around it.
And even though it happened while they were separated, him laying up with that woman after everythign they'd already been through only shattered Sabine worse.
It was like every wound between them got ripped back open at once.
“You think that’s when we broke? No, Adair.
No, sweetie. We were already broken. You just kept pretending like we weren’t.
Therapy could’ve worked. It could’ve worked but you never showed up.
You always had an excuse. A client. Always a meeting though, always a fucking excuse!
I was grieving our daughter by myself while you kept chasing some image of success you thought would fix us.
A family I couldn’t hold together by myself. ”
“I thought I was building something for us.”
“No. You were building something for you! I was just collateral damage.” Then her voice cracked wide open, finally.
Now she was pacing in front of him. “And the crazy part? I should’ve beat both y’all asses!
You and Whorrine. Do you know how many nights I laid there thinking about it?
About how easy it would’ve been to roll up to that office and humiliate you like you humiliated me?
How I wanted to drag her nasty across the parking lot?
Looking at me like I was fucking HER HUSBAND! ”
Adair’s eyes dropped to the floor. She wasn’t being dramatic. She was being honest, and he let her. He let Sabine get it all out even if that meant screaming or whipping his ass. Again. She deserved this.
“But it wasn’t her fault! She didn’t owe me shit, she got to be a hoe for my husband because you let her!
She felt entitled because you let her! She was what life could’ve been if you didn’t have a pregnant wife and baby at home!
She was easy! Refreshing probably! EVERYTHING I USED TO BE BEFORE YOU TOOK IT FROM ME!
You made me feel stupid. You made me feel disposable,” she wept.
“I was tired. Tired of begging you to come home. Tired of carrying all the weight of your absence. I was grieving AND parenting. Crying in a closet while Ade napped because I didn’t want to scare him.
And you were nowhere. Except in a office hiding like a fucking coward! From a family you…”
“I what?” Adair asked, feeling what she wanted to say. “A family I forced on you.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“I heard you that day, Sabine,” he dropped his head.
“What?”
“I heard you that day. On the phone, talking to Narri and your sister about how you regretted going to New York, marrying me…”
Sabine’s face scrunched up a bit because for a second, she couldn’t recall then it all came crashing down on her. She remembered that call and the many others she’d had while sitting at home alone, pregnant with a baby and no husband in sight.
“I wasn’t supposed to hear it. You were in the bedroom. I had just walked in. You didn’t even know I was home. You said you felt stuck. That you were drowning. That you didn’t know who you were anymore.”
Sabine turned her face, but not in shame, just to regroup, because the rage was surging back.
“Because I was drowning, Adair. I didn’t know who the fuck I was.
You had me in that apartment all day, every day, with a baby and a belly.
You were barely there! And when you were, your body showed up, but you didn’t. ”
“I was trying—”
“You weren’t!” she screamed, finally. “You weren’t trying!
You were hiding! From me, from our life, from everything we were building that wasn’t easy and shiny and applauding you for every little fucking thing!
” she shouted and he swallowed hard. “I was scared and lonely all the time and I said shit I didn’t mean.
But you made me feel like a burden. You made me feel like you had a whole life you could’ve lived if I hadn’t gotten pregnant!
Like I ruined some bright-ass future by just existing! ”
“I never felt that way,” he said immediately, fiercely, but she shook her head.
“It doesn’t matter if you felt it. It matters that I did.” The words hung there. Sabine’s shoulders shook as she wiped her face with the sleeve of her shirt. “And you couldn’t even be present enough to sit with me even in silence.”
“I wasn’t ready to face it…”
“No, you weren’t ready to feel it. Because if you did, you’d have to admit you fucked up something you asked for.
You married me. You told me to follow you and you would protect me, us.
You said we’d be fine, that I could stay home with Ade, that we were a team.
But when things got heavy, I was the only one lifting. ”
Adair’s eyes burned. But he didn’t say anything.
“I should’ve beat y’all asses,” she muttered again, softer now but no less real as she paced. She replayed so many things from the past over in her head and how she wished to have handled it. “That bitch felt safe humiliating me because she watched you humiliate me first and you let her.”
He nodded. “You’re right.”
“And you know what, I’ll give you one thing, I should’ve spoken up, told you all the things I would tell Narri but neither of us obviously didn’t talk to each other.
We found other people for that, huh?” she took a dig.
“If that’s what you’re using as a cop-out to why you failed your family then I’m so sorry Adair, that you couldn’t keep promises you made for a life I wanted to give you because…
because I loved you. Simply because I fucking loved you, nothing more, nothing less.
I loved a selfish man. I loved you so much I would’ve followed you to the ends of the earth if you told me that’s where our happiness would be.
So I don’t want an apology. If that’s what you’re here to give, I accept it but I don’t forgive you.
I want my time back. I want my daughter back.
I want to forget that I ever had to labor through grief alone. Can I get any of that back?”
Solemnly Adair shook his head no; guilt etched into every muscle in his face. He didn’t even stop the tears when they pooled in his eyes then fell down his face.
This wasn’t a good idea either. Even simply allowing her the space to express her hurt was still hurting her.
It was him.
He was Sabine’s hurt.
Every word she spoke, every sob she swallowed, every ounce of anger she tried to repress, it all had his name on it. His fingerprints and he had to take himself away so she wouldn’t hurt anymore.
Because love or not, history or not, grief or not, he was still the one who let her bleed alone. Still the one who left her to carry two children, a broken heart, and the ghost of a marriage he abandoned long before it ended.
“I think…” he started, standing slowly, then stopped. Collected himself. “I think it’s been so rough for us because I wouldn’t let go of hope but I realize now…losing you, that’s on me. I have to live with that. Live with you forgiving me but not…not wanting me anymore.”
That’s when the tears finally fell—from both of them.
“I love our son. More than anything and I’m grateful to you, for giving me him. For giving me her. Even if we never got to hold her together. Even though we never got another chance. I will always be honored that my children came from you.”
Sabine covered her mouth with her hand feeling every emotion from the years of her life that were centered around Adair.
Adair stood, walking to the door. He looked at her one last time—this time with no hope in his eyes. Just acceptance. Just grief.
“I just needed you to know. I see it now. All of it and I’m sorry.” He stepped out before he could say too much. Before he begged her to want him still.