Chapter 26 #2
Sabine let him rest his hand on the small of her back as they crossed the street and Adair tried not to read too much into it.
The ride to her house felt uneasy because Adair did not want to ruin what they’d built in such a short window. He wanted to keep improving with her.
They pulled into her driveway a few minutes later. He parked. Sat with the engine running. The confession was still pressing against his chest, screaming to get out.
The porch light clicked on. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, switching the lights on then putting her things down. She was full. Safe. Letting him in, even if just by inches. That’s why it hurt worse because he knew he was about to undo all of it.
And still, he had to say it.
Now or never.
“Sabine.”
She turned.
“There’s something I need to say before I step any further into your house….” he blurted from his post right at front door. “I’ve been going back and forth on this all night, but it wouldn’t be right if I didn’t tell you.”
She said nothing.
“Corrine…she’s co-counsel on the Aderra deal.”
The silence cracked like thunder. Sabine’s entire face dropped. She blinked once. Twice. Then stepped back.
“Get the fuck out my house.”
“Sabine—”
“Are you kidding me?” she screamed. “Are you—” her hands flew up. “You bring me to therapy. Hold me. Take me to dinner! Let me tell you everything—and then you slide that in like it’s just a footnote?!”
“I wasn’t trying to hide it, I always planned to tell you. I just didn’t want to ruin tonight.”
“Oh, you mean the one night you weren’t actively ruining my life?”
He took a step toward her. She shoved him back.
“Get out!”
“No.”
“No?!”
“No, I’m not leaving. I told you I’m here and I meant it. This was never about Corrine—”
“This was always about Corrine!”
Adair’s voice rose. “She’s just co-counsel! I don’t even want her on the deal. The firm assigned her!”
“FUCK YOU!” she slapped him and his jaw flexed as the tension cracked between them like lightning. Bodies too close. Rage too sharp. She shoved him and again. And again. He grabbed her wrist. She tried to pull away, but he held on.
“Let go of me,” she whispered.
“Then stop pulling me back in,” he whispered right back. Their mouths were inches apart. Her chest rose. His hands gripped her tighter.
And then—
She kissed him.
Hard. Furious. Wild.
Clothes came off. A slap across his chest turned into her gasping in his ear. Her nails raked down his back. His hand gripped the back of her neck. They crashed into each other like a fight.
Like a fire.
The sex was everything it had always been—angry, beautiful, rough and nasty. Unforgiving. Explosive. A collision of grief and lust and betrayal and history.
And when it was over, she didn’t speak.
Neither did he.
But she didn’t make him leave either.
And maybe that, too, was its own kind of war. They held one another kissing. They weren’t kissing to heal. They were kissing to forget—for five minutes, ten, however long their bodies could to override the damage.
The room was dim now, lit only by the soft glow of the lamp on her nightstand.
They lay tangled under the covers, skin sticky with sweat, hearts still beating in tandem from the storm they’d just weathered.
Sabine’s head rested on his chest, one leg draped over his, her fingertips lazily drawing shapes on the scar near his ribs—the one he got falling off a dirtbike as a child.
Adair kissed her hair. Again and again.
They were quiet for a while. Letting breath return. Letting silence settle the way it only could after chaos. Then—her voice, quiet.
“Why…her?”
“You won’t have to talk to her,” he turned slightly, enough to face her. “She’s only co-counsel on two subfiles, and I’m the one interfacing directly with Pillar Grove and Lewin. If I could pull her completely, I would.”
“I don’t want to see her.”
“I know baby,” his lips brushed her skin. “I know…but,” he sighed. “We just took on a massive class action case with over 200 clients. The entire mid-level litigation teams tied up. Corrine was the only senior associate available who had the background in joint venture structuring. It’s temporary.”
Sabine nodded slowly. “I want to be clear though…she didn’t ruin us. That was all your doing. I’m not shunning her while dismissing the part you played. I just…I just don’t want to see the physical being behind part of your betrayal.”
Adair reached for her hand, threading his fingers through hers.
“She didn’t ruin us,” Sabine repeated, quieter now. “You did that, Adair.”
“I know and I take full responsibility for what I did. Every bit of it.”
“You should.”
“I do baby.”
Sabine didn’t cry. Didn’t shout. Her voice held no venom. Just tired truth. “But I still don’t want to see the bitch that helped.”
Adair brought her knuckles to his lips—he knew what she needed to hear. No bullshit. Simply his vulnerable truth even if it hurt them both.
“She meant nothing, Bine. It wasn’t love.
It wasn’t even sex half the time. Just…head in my office when I was spiraling.
A drunk ass night. A stupid mistake but it wasn’t about her.
It was about me being fucked up. About me grieving the wrong way.
About me trying to punish you for leaving when I should’ve been punishing myself for letting you go…
she…she saw me spiraling and didn’t care what version of me she got and I let her.
Because I thought if someone could stomach me like that, I didn’t have to fix it. Didn’t have to face what I’d become.”
Sabine didn’t move. Just lay there. Listening.
“I want you back,” he said. “I want our family. I want to show you I can be the man I was supposed to be. The man you needed me to be when it mattered.”
“How do I trust that?” Sabine’s voice cracked.
“You don’t,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “Not yet but you can watch me prove it. Every day. Every meeting. Every contract. Every night. I’ll earn it back. I swear.”
Scoffing, Sabine sighed heavily. “I don’t want to see her,” she said again, more strained now. “So y’all just ended up at the same firm?”
Adair exhaled, chest tightening under her cheek.
“No. You know I left our old firm not long after you came back here because I couldn’t be away from Ade…
away from you. I needed a clean start anyway.
Somewhere I didn’t have to see the version of myself I hated.
” He paused, hand stroking slow lines down her spine.
“She wasn’t part of the transition,” he said softly.
“Didn’t recommend her. Didn’t tell her shit.
Two months in, she showed up out the blue, said she’d been headhunted and didn’t know I worked there until she started onboarding. I still don’t believe her ass.”
Sabine gave him a skeptical look, stiffening then slightly.
“Of course she did. You must’ve fucked her that good, huh?
” she scoffed, and Adair inhaled deeply not wanting this to turn into a fight.
He knew this was burning her up inside. They’d never openly talked about everything like this.
He exhaled slowly, trying to keep the slow progression from quickly regressing.
“It was never love. Not even close. Not even comfort. We fucked, she sucked my dick a couple times. That was it. Nothing face to face. Nothing vulnerable. Just...a mess. I didn’t care about her before, during, or after.”
“And that’s supposed to make it better?”
“No,” he said honestly. “It’s not but it’s the truth.
I never wanted her. I wanted you. Even when I was fucking up, I was still yours.
I just didn’t know how to be good enough and I failed as your husband to come to you with those feelings,” his voice gentler now, not defensive.
“You have every right to feel how you feel, Bine. I would too, if it were me. I’m not here to make excuses or argue about what you’re holding.
I just…” he sighed, brushing his thumb along the inside of her wrist. “I didn’t bring her there.
I didn’t even know she was coming and I swear to God, if I could trade places with anyone else in that boardroom so you never had to see her again, I would.
” His voice dropped lower, sincere. “She don’t matter.
She never did. But you? You always have. ”
“I…I don’t want to lock eyes with the woman who was there, who waited her turn while I buried my daughter. I know it wasn’t her fault, but I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to see her,” she said again, softer now.
Adair reached for her hand again, bringing it to his lips, kissing each knuckle one by one. “I promise to make this as painless for you as possible baby. She’ll be there but she won’t even be in the room. This is about you and Aderra.”
“I just want to do my work,” she said. “I want to build something that matters. Something that doesn’t come with her shadow behind it.”
“You are,” he said, kissing her wrist this time.
“You’re building something brilliant. Something only you could birth and nothing, not Corrine, not me, not any of this, can take that from you.
You made all this possible. Created job opportunities too.
I’m just grateful I can be a witness. I get to stand back and make sure nobody touches what you made. That’s my honor, not my right.”
“You always said the right shit after the damage was already done.” Sabine rolled her eyes, shoving him a bit.
“I know,” he murmured as they shared a small laugh. “But I’m learning how to say it while I’m standing here still loving you. While I still got the chance to make it count.”
Sabine didn’t respond right away just shifted, pulling the sheet higher over their tangled bodies. Adair tucked her tighter beneath his chin, one arm coiled around her waist, the other tracing slow hearts against her hip.
“I don’t know if I can ever love you the same again,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to love me the same,” he said. “Just don’t stop…please…don’t stop.”
Silence settled again.
This time, it didn’t feel heavy. It felt…bearable and when she finally drifted off in his arms, Adair didn’t move. Didn’t chase the sleep she’d found. He just stayed. Holding the only woman he’d ever wanted.
He didn’t sleep.
He just held her.
And prayed that next time she woke up, she wouldn’t regret letting him stay.