“I appreciate that.”
“You don’t have to,” he replied. “You built something powerful. I just get to make sure nobody fucks it up.”
The moment stretched between them. Something quiet but steady settled in the air—respect, maybe. A fragile kind of trust and maybe, just maybe, Adair thought, it was the first time in years she believed he had her back again.
The check came in a slim leather folio, slipped discreetly onto the table and without hesitation, Adair reached for it. Sabine didn’t stop him. Didn’t reach. Didn’t do the old petty move of pretending to grab her wallet only to let him pay anyway.
Something about that stuck out to him. Petty Sabine was…gone. Or maybe just too tired tonight to show up but the woman across from him now? She was real. She was raw. She’d cried in his arms and let him hold her through the storm of their sharedpast, and now, she was letting him pay for her meal without the power play.
Adair signed the receipt in silence but inside, Adair was spinning because now…now came the part he’d been dreading. He was going to ruin this. He didn’t want to.
God, he didn’t.
However, he couldn’t keep lying by omission. Not again. Not after the way she broke in therapy. Not after the way she leaned on him. Not after she told him she was glad he was still part of her life. She was leaned back, fingers lazily swirling her straw in her near-empty glass, full from food and comfort and just enough peace to make tonight feel like something other than what it usually did.
“Can I…” he started, then stopped. Sabine looked over at him.
“What?”
He licked his lips, trying to summon something that didn’t sound like a trap. “Can I come home with you? Just to sit. I’m not trying anything. I swear. I just…” He shook his head. “I don’t want this night to end yet.”
Sabine’s eyes lingered on his for a long beat. Then she said, “We’re not doing what we did last time.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” he lied.
“Mmhm,” she pursed her lips, knowing her ex-husband all too well and of course, Adair grinned despite himself.
“Okay, maybe I was thinking about it but I meant it. I just want to be close to you tonight. Do I want to make love to you, you know I do, however, that doesn’t change me wanting to still be as close as you let me.”
Sabine didn’t respond, but the corner of her mouth twitched. He took it as a win. They left Eva’s under city lights, full and floating. Not quite healed. Not quite whole but…something.
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—”