Page 37 of Second Best Again
Sage slowly nodded. He turned and left without meeting her eyes.
The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on, the unspoken things hanging heavier than the words they'd finally managed to say.
Chapter 28
The floorboards creaked overhead, then the sound of hurried steps on the stairs. David appeared in the doorway, tugging at the collar of his school shirt, his tie askew. His eyes were puffy from the night before.
Sage looked him over with a soft frown. "Go wash your face again, sweetheart. You've still got stuff around your eyes."
He shifted his weight, embarrassed, then mumbled, "Mum..." After a pause, he looked around. "Where's Dad?"
Sage's hand tightened around her coffee cup. "He just had to go out," she said gently. "He'll be back."
David nodded, but the question in his eyes lingered. "What's going to happen?"
Sage's throat closed for a moment before she managed to answer. "I don't know," she admitted, honest and careful. She reached out, smoothing his rumpled tie with steady fingers. "But what I do know is this: we both love you. And no matter what happens, we're going to be there for you."
His shoulders eased slightly, as if those words were enough to get him through the morning.
The door closed behind Ronin with aclick. He leaned back against it with his eyes closed. The October sun was unseasonably bright, laying soft gold across the lawn. His thoughts drifted back to the clinic. Amanda had been there with the baby, James beside her, both pale and raw emotions bleeding out of him. Swabs had been taken, the sterile smell of antiseptic and judgment clinging to the air. James had looked haunted, and Ronin's gut twisted with guilt. How many lives had he carelessly scarred?
Amanda had tried to speak to him as he turned away, but he had only said, "My lawyer will be in touch once the results are back."
Her face had crumpled, pain etched clear—and in that instant, he'd admitted something to himself: he had once enjoyed being looked at like that, like he hung the sun and the moon.
It had fed his ego, the attention of a beautiful, younger woman, while at home things had grown brittle and uncertain. It had been intoxicating to be pursued while his wife sometimes turned away in exhaustion.
And he had made no effort to help her, no effort to bridge the distance. After the test, Ronin had gone into the office. From the moment he stepped inside, he felt it—the prickling sensation of eyes on him, the silence that bent under the weight of whispers. Everyone was watching without watching.
He glanced around just in time to catch Gail from accounting look away too quickly, her cheeks flushed as she buried herself in paperwork. His steps quickened, the back of his neck hot, until he reached the glass door that separated the main floor fromthe executive corridor. Relief washed over him as it clicked shut behind him.
But Graham, his partner, was already watching through the glass walls of his office, his expression grim, as though he might rise and confront him. Before he could, Ronin's secretary, Paris Shaw, was on her feet.
Paris—grandmother to a small army of grandchildren and never shy about voicing her opinion—intercepted him at his office door. She waited until they were both inside, the only office with solid walls instead of glass, before she turned on him.
"There's a rumour," she said, voice sharp and no nonsense, "about you and Mrs. Floyd. And her child."
Ronin couldn't meet her eyes.
"So, it's true, then?"
He sat heavily in his chair, staring at his clasped hands. "I've been a fool," he admitted, his voice low.
Paris planted both hands on the desk, leaning forward. "A fool? You've gone past fool, Ronin. What about Sage?"
He flinched at her name.
"She's still in that house, isn't she? Or has she packed up?"
His shoulders slumped, the fight gone from him. He gave a small shake of his head. "I have submitted the paperwork to put the house in her name."
Paris's eyes narrowed. "So, you are giving up without a fight?"
"She hates me," he said hoarsely. "Looking at me nauseates her."
Paris sniffed. "I'm not surprised."
Ronin didn't argue.
