Page 110 of The Moon & His Tides
Nearly a full year of life together with him as ours, and we were ripping it all asunder.
For good reason, for the right reasons.
Even if he didn’t understand now in his youthful ignorance, he would understand later.
In five years or ten.
It was best to avoid the inevitable bitterness and hatred that would settle between us over time.
A quick, violent end was better than a slow death by a thousand cuts.
“Don’t be immature. Not now,” Savannah scolded. “We can’t have you two associated with each other this way when there is so much on the line.”
“My heart is on the line!” he shouted, thumping himself viciously across the chest. “What more is there to care about?”
“The career we’ve worked so hard to launch?” she suggested icily. “The career Adam has worked at for years. His passion.Mypassion.”
“Am I not your passion, too, then?” he asked, quivering with anger and hurt, a stuck bull caged in a space too small for everything roiling through him. “Am I so easily cast aside at the first sign of trouble?”
“I can still see you, my love,” she said, the ice queen act cracking for a moment as she stepped forward, arms outstretched to him, hope stark across her face. “We’ll have to be careful, but there won’t be as many eyes on us as there would be on you and Adam.”
It was cruel to all of us, what she was proposing.
For them to continue without me was worse than losing him altogether. The idea of catching his scent on her blouse, seeing the bruise of his mouth against her breasts… it would be a knife through the chest every time.
For us both, I thought.
But Savannah had never been good at giving up what she wanted, the consequences be damned.
Sebastian was already shaking his head, but he stepped forward too, taking her hands and dragging her roughly against his chest.
“Come with me, then,” he coaxed. “Adam won’t face the music to be together, but you could.”
“Change the narrative… make him a cuckold instead of a homosexual?” Savannah actually mused.
He flinched, checking her face to make sure she wasn’t joking.
She wasn’t. I could have told him, but I didn’t.
“I don’t care about the narrative,” he said slowly, bending down to look her in the eye. “I care about you. Both of you.”
“Of course,” she soothed. “But it’s not a bad idea.”
I’d had enough.
Enough of Savannah acting like my manager instead of my fucking wife.
Enough of seeing Sebastian fight for us when I knew he would only fail.
Savannah would never leave me for him, and he didn’t understand that.
Even my star power was growing stale for her, and Sebastian was just on the cusp of success himself. She couldn’t be satisfied with that even if she was satisfied by us in her heart and her body.
For her, it would always be about the mind.
And what Sebastian and I could give her.
“Get out.”
