“I didn’t know how to keep something good when I had it. I knew how to work for it. I knew how to fight for it…but once it was in my hands?” he held his palms open. “I let the weight of my own shit drown us.”
Sabine looked at him now.
Really looked.
Not angry. Not nostalgic.
Just…tired.
Sabine stood slowly, adjusting her bag.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said. Her voice was even. Not soft, not cold. Just regular.
The fact that she didn’t even question his state or having Ade while he and Tate were getting hammered said everything. She trusted him as a father, trusted that he wouldn’t test the limits while with their child. Enough to know Ade was asleep, safe,untouched by whatever emotional wreckage was spread across this night. Enough to know Adair wouldn’t dare cross a line when it came to their son.
But that was all she trusted him with now. Not her heart. Not her vulnerability. Not herworry, even though that’s what got her here.
“And I’m glad you had someone to talk to tonight.” She started for the door, but he stood too.
“Sabine.”
She turned.
“I miss you.”
She nodded. “I miss you too, Adair. I really do. I miss who we were but I’m still learning who I amnowand I’m not her anymore.”
He stepped closer. “And if…if I learn who I am too…reallylearn…do you think there’s still a chance?”
She looked at him.
Looked and didn’t answer.
Not yes. Not no.
Just something unreadable.
But that was the answer, wasn’t it? That pause. That breath she held between her ribs.
It wasn’t rejection.
It was ache.
He could see it.
Feel it.
Smell it.
Fuck…taste it.
It was all over her like it was all over him.
Adair stepped forward, slow. Careful. Like if he moved too fast, she might vanish. He didn’t touch her—not yet. Just stood close enough to feel the tension warming the space between them.
“I know I don’t deserve another chance,” he said, his voice low and raw. “But I’ve been trying, Sabine. Not to win you back. Just to be the kind of man I should’ve been all along. For me. For Ade. For you.”
Her eyes fluttered shut. Just for a second and when they opened again, they shimmered but didn’t spill. Sabine didn’t cry easy. Never had but her silence? Her silence used to undo him.