Hewas Sabine’s hurt.
Every word she spoke, every sob she swallowed, every ounce of anger she tried to repress, it all had his name on it. His fingerprints and he had to take himself away so she wouldn’t hurt anymore.
Because love or not, history or not, grief or not, he was still the one who let her bleed alone. Still the one who left her to carry two children, a broken heart, and the ghost of a marriage he abandoned long before it ended.
“I think…” he started, standing slowly, then stopped. Collected himself. “I think it’s been so rough for us because I wouldn’t let go of hope but I realize now…losing you, that’s on me. I have to live with that. Live with you forgiving me but not…not wanting me anymore.”
That’s when the tears finally fell—from both of them.
“I love our son. More than anything and I’m grateful to you, for giving me him. For giving meher. Even if we never got tohold her together. Even though we never got another chance. I will always be honored that my children came from you.”
Sabine covered her mouth with her hand feeling every emotion from the years of her life that were centered around Adair.
Adair stood, walking to the door. He looked at her one last time—this time with no hope in his eyes. Just acceptance. Just grief.
“I just needed you to know. I see it now. All of it and I’m sorry.” He stepped out before he could say too much. Before he begged her to want him still.
SABINE
When Adair walked out, Sabine would never admit out loud that a part of her left with him. It finally felt final. Even after being divorced. Even after lawyers and papers and a judge stamping them into separate people. This was different.
Adair and Sabine were done.
It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t bitter. It was just…what it was.
Sabine sat in the same spot long after he left. The silence in the house didn’t feel peaceful, it felt like a void. Like a door had been shut on a chapter she hadn’t even realized was still cracked open.
For the first time since the baby, since Ariyah, she felt the full weight of her aloneness, not the kind she’d grown used to in his absence, but the kind that came from letting go of the last piece of hope. He had finally told the truth. All of it and she had finally said everything she needed to say. Not just the pain and the anger, but the love too. The stupid, unshakable, trembling love she’d given to a man who didn’t know how to carry it without dropping pieces along the way.
Her body felt sore. Her mouth dry. She hadn’t realized she was crying again until she tasted salt.
Sabine pulled the throw blanket from the couch over her shoulders and sat back, clutching it to her chest like it could keep her from unraveling. She wasn’t even angry anymore. She was just empty.
Not the kind of empty that screamed. The kind that whispered.
She didn’t want him back.
That was the thing. For all her pain, for all her tears—she didn’t want him back. She didnt wantthatAdair back but she wanted what they weresupposedto be. The life they swore they were building. The family she had imagined in those quiet nights with Ade asleep on her chest and Adair’s voicemail playing again.
She wanted that version of him. Of her. Of them.
And it didn’t exist.
Sabine finally got up and checked on her son. He was curled up in bed, breathing easy, face at peace. She kissed his forehead and whispered a thank you to the dark. For him. For her strength and for the final break that would let her heal.
In her bedroom, the quiet was different. It wasn’t haunted. It wasn’t aching. It was just quiet. She walked to her dresser, not even thinking, just moving. Her fingers hovered above her jewelry box before lifting the lid.
There it was.
The necklace.
She hadn’t worn it in since she filed for divorce—first out of anger then because it felt as if it wasn’t hers anymore. However, she’d never moved it. It sat right at the top, next to the engagement ring and her wedding band. Always in sight. Like some twisted form of ritual. Of remembering.
The locket gleamed under the soft light. That heart-shaped diamond still winked at her. The note engraved inside—the words she once clung to—flashed back in her mind:
Through all the noise, I hope my love for you is always louder.She remembered sobbing when he gave it to her. Remembered the way her hands trembled as he clasped it around her neck. How she told him she’d never take it off. She meant it then. She hadn’t meant to break that promise but love and life had torn it from her.
Sabine picked it up, holding it in her palm. It was beautiful but beauty didn’t make it wearable. She set it down gently, then slid the rings beside it and closed the lid.