Page 138 of Sage Haven
I walked to the window, resting my hand against the cold glass.
Below me, the open field swayed in the breeze.
Wild. Untamed.
A reflection of something I used to be.
My gaze shifted to the small stack of books Reich had left by the sill.
One stood out.
Persuasion. Jane Austen.
I picked it up, running my thumb over the worn cover.
Reich had been reading this.
Earlier, when I woke up the other day he was sitting in this very room, lost in these pages.
Austen. Romance.
I didn’t understand it.
Reich was all hard lines and brutal precision.
He wasn’t softness and second chances.
He wasn’t supposed to be reading books about love and regret.
And yet… here it was.
And maybe that’s why he intrigued me.
Because he didn’t fit into the box I kept trying to shove him into.
He was an enigma.
And I wanted to understand him.
I curled into the window seat, tucking my legs beneath me as I lost myself in Anne Elliot’s world.
Hours passed. Maybe more.
And when I finally closed the book, something in me ached.
Because I wanted what Anne had found. I wanted to believe in second chances. Even if I always felt like I didn’t deserve one.
A soft creak drew my attention to the door.
And there he was.
Reich.
Polished. Perfect. The wealthy, romance-reading enigma who was quickly becoming my undoing.
He held a tray in his hands.
Food.
