“I-I don’t know. I just… I know I can’t be with them.” I swallow. “They have a chance to be happy. To be a real family. And I-I’ll ruin it. Maybe not today, or next year, but at some point, I’ll be the reason it all crumbles.”
Sage raises a brow. “Wow, so you can see into the future too? Amazing. So much I don’t know about you.”
I glare at her. “You’re not as charming as you think you are.”
She rolls her eyes. “Listen, I know I don’t know the whole story, because clearly there’s a huge chunk missing, and you don’t have to tell me. I’m fine with not knowing. But I am a bit confused. Two weeks ago you were super stoked about the fact Emery is pregnant. You even painted that animal mural thing. What could havepossiblyhappened to make you want to throw all of that away?”
“The past caught up with me. That’s what happened.”
“I’ve always hated that phrase,” she grumbles. “It’s total crap. Your past is always with you. It’s a part of who you are. The notion that a past ‘catches up’ with someone, as if you can outrun it, is just a lame excuse for people not to process their issues properly.”
I scoff at the accuracy. “Well, it’s hard to process something that was hidden from you.”
Her eyes narrow. “I’m sensing the catalyst of your problems lies somewhere in that statement.”
“Always so perceptive,” I mutter. “Must beyoursuperpower.”
“Damon…”
I smirk at her. “Annoying, isn’t it?”
Sage tosses me a mock scowl. “Hardy har har. It’snice to know that in the middle of a midlife crisis, sarcasm doesn’t elude you.”
My mouth gapes open. “Midlife? I am not in mymidlife.”
“Yeah?” Her gaze skims my weary features. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. In the past two weeks, you’ve aged like a glass of milk.”
My expression hardens. “You’re such a bitch.”
She shrugs, unfazed. “At least I’m an honest bitch. I would like to think if I made something I regard as the ‘right choice’, nature wouldn’t punish me with wrinkles, dry skin, and bad odor.”
“If you dragged me out of my house simply to make fun of my appearance, I think I’ll be leaving now.” I stand up, glaring down at her. “Great chat, Sage.”
“Oh, stop!” She reaches across the table and pinches my sleeve, effortlessly dragging me back down to the chair. “You’re so sensitive sometimes. For someone who can dish it out, you certainly can’t take it.”
“No, I can’t. It’s one of my many flaws.” I cross my arms like an insolent child. I quickly drop my hands. I don’t need to give her more ammunition.
She grins, noticing my abrupt change in sitting position. “Good call. I was going to start calling you a pout.”
“Wouldn’t want that…” I let out a long, laboured breath, my gaze flitting out the restaurant window. A woman with a stroller walks by and anxiety flutters in my chest. “What…” My pulse quickens as I turn back to Sage. “What day is it today?”
She blinks. “Really? Jeez. It’s Sunday, you caveman. Why?”
A tower of guilt crashes down on me, and I struggle to breathe under the debris. “I…”
She’s going to hate me. If she doesn’t already, now it’s certain. I missed the appointment. Friday. Quin said it was on Friday. I missed it. By choice, though? Did I conveniently forget to keep track of the minutes, hours, days, leading up to such a big day? Or was it an accident? Did I genuinely lose track of time?
It doesn’t matter, does it? They’ll think it was on purpose. After kicking Quin off my doorstep, after him telling me the date, after my bitter, sour, cold reaction, they’ll think it was on purpose.
Maybe that’s good. Maybe she needs to hate me. If she hates me, she’ll be able to move on. Anger is easier to bury than sorrow. And that’s what she needs to do, bury me. Bury me in an unmarked grave and forget I ever existed.
Hell, I’ll evendigmy own grave.
THE BLEEDING ANGEL
EMERY
“Miss Jones!”Gretchen leaps up from her desk, chasing me down the corridor as I storm toward NovaTech Pharmaceuticals’ conference room. “Miss Jones! He’s in a meeting! Miss Jones, please! He’s?—”
