Page 232 of Vixen


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I don’t have to.

Sage’s voice carries anyway — fast, sharp, unraveling.

“Are you with him?”

“Are you in the same room?”

“Are you guys having drinks together?”

“What is he doing right now?”

“Is he talking to anyone?”

“Is he flirting?”

Beth’s voice stays calm. Professional. Steady.

“We’re in meetings all day,” she says. “There’s barely any downtime. No reception half the time. It’s boring, honestly. He looks exhausted. I’m exhausted.”

A pause.

“I’ll see you when we get back,” Beth adds. “Okay?”

That seems to slow Sage down — at least temporarily.

When Beth comes back into the room, she looks drained, like someone who’s been holding a fragile thing together with her hands.

“I don’t want to lose her,” she says quietly.

“I know,” I answer.

We’re in New York two more days. Two more meetings where no one says the wordfailurebut everyone feels it. Two more dinners pretending this is just business as usual. Two more nights of my BlackBerry lighting up with unread pleas.

On the last morning, I finally say it out loud.

“I can’t go back yet,” I tell Beth. “I need space. Time. I just… I can’t.”

She nods. No judgment. Just understanding.

“I’ll check on her,” she offers. “Make sure she’s okay.”

“Thank you.” I hesitate. “I loved her, Beth. I really did. But what happened between us — I can’t talk about it. I won’t. I’ll respect what we had. It just got bad.”

Beth sits with that, then looks at me carefully.

“I understand,” she says. “I never wanted to say anything before. It wasn’t my place.”

My jaw tightens.

“But there were nights we’d all go out without you,” she continues gently. “Because you were with her. And we’d talk. About the fights we could hear. The stuff breaking in the cabin. The bruise on your cheek you blamed on shaving.”

I say nothing.

“And the marks on her wrists,” Beth adds, softer now. “When you had to restrain her. You tried to hide it. But we saw.”

The room feels very still.

“At the bars,” she goes on, “we could feel it building. The looks. The tension. That’s why we kept hopping places — because it would get embarrassing, and we didn’t know how to help.”