Adair turned fully, eyes locking with hers across the lot. He stopped talking mid-sentence and pulled the phone from his ear, barely giving whoever was on the other end a chance to say goodbye before he hung up. No explanation. No hesitation. Just…her.
In three long strides, he was at her driver-side door, already pulling the handle before she could process it. “Hey,” he murmured, reaching in gently and helping her unbuckle like she was something delicate.She was.
Sabine opened her mouth to say something—anything—but the moment she felt him remove her from the car then his arms around her; it was like a dam inside her cracked open. Her body folded into his without resistance, and the tears came hard and fast, catching even her off guard. She buried her face in his chest, her fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt as she let it all go—the fear, the memory, the grief.
They were getting a second chance.
Adair held her tighter.
“It’s okay,” he whispered in her hair, rubbing circles into her back. He didn’t know or care what it was, butit would be okayhe assured her. “I got you. You hear me? I got you.”
She sobbed harder, her whole body shaking now.
And he just kept holding her.
No questions.
Just presence.
And that—God,that—was what she’d needed most.
Even as Sabine’s sobs softened into quiet trembles, Adair didn’t let go. He held her like she was sacred. Like nothing else in the world mattered.
“Come here,” he said softly, settled into the driver’s seat and, with gentle pressure, guided her into his lap. Sabine didn’t resist—she curled into him. He closed the door with one hand, the other never leaving her thigh. Just a slow, grounding rub, his thumb moving in calming circles while his other arm wrapped around her waist.
Sabine leaned her head against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of him—wood, cologne, something warm and worn-in that always made her feel less alone.
“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” he asked, lips brushing her temple.
“I didn’t mean to fall apart like that,” she whispered. “I promise this is supposed to be happy.”
“I’m glad you did.” He kissed the top of her head. “Means you ain’t tryna carry it alone. That…you’re willing to let me hold some of it for you again…you…you’re building trust with me again.”
Sabine was quiet, staring at the dashboard. Her fingers played with the lapel of his blazer. The confession sat on her tongue, full and terrifying. Before she could force the words out, a soft knock came on the window.
They both looked up.
Dr. Pie stood outside, her posture was calm, her expression soft. Like she’d been here before. Like she understood that sometimes, the real work didn’t wait for the office. She spotted them in the car—Sabine curled into Adair’s lap; his arms wrapped around her like he was holding her together. Pie didn’t move too quickly or call out right away. She just approached slowly and stood by the driver’s side window, waiting until Adair noticed her there.
Adair pressed the button, lowering the barrier between them and Pie.
“I just wanted to make sure you two were okay.”
“We’re fine,” Adair started to say, but Sabine cut in, voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m pregnant.”
“Oh.” Dr. Pie blinked once. Adair’s hand stilled. He turned to look at her fully now, face open with shock.
“What?” he said.
Sabine nodded, eyes glossy again. “I found out an hour ago. I thought it was just my iron again, but...it’s not.” She swallowed hard, voice cracking. “I’m pregnant, Adair.”
He didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at her, really looked—like he was trying to absorb what that meant, what itcouldmean, what it would mean and then he exhaled, softly, and pulled her closer. His forehead rested against hers.
“Okay,” he said. Just that.
Dr. Pie didn’t say another word. She took one look at Sabine’s tear-glossed eyes, the way Adair’s arms curled tighter around her at the wordpregnantand gave a single nod. “I’ll be inside when you two are ready,” she said softly then turned and walked back toward the building.