“Action.”
“No!”
I laugh at her astonishment. “Anything starring Jason Statham.”
“Oh my God,” she says, laughing quietly.
“Not what you expected?”
“You’re all… grown-up and mature?—”
“I can’t like action movies because I’m old?”
She grins. “I figured you for documentaries.”
I clutch at my chest. “You wound me.”
She giggles, and it’s the sweetest sound. But it’s enough to disturb the babies. During a round of feeding, diaper changes, and tucking them back in, I offer to make her supper with whatever is in the fridge. She calls out from the bedroom, “I don’t know what you’ll find in there.”
I find bread and eggs. “Eggs in top hats?”
“Yes, please.” Once she’s finished and dinner is on the table, she smiles at her plate. “Haven’t had these since I was a kid. What was your childhood like?”
“Spoiled rotten.”
“Really?”
I nod once. “To the core, in fact. Though only in proportion to my grades, as was the rule for my siblings and me. Being that our family founded Callahan Labs, we had more money than my parents knew what to do with. So, they set up rules for us, which we abided by for the most part.”
“Sounds magical.”
Thinking on what she said about her own, I’m once again reminded of how lucky I was. “I will always be grateful for the childhood I had. It’s part of why I donate to a number of youth organizations in the area. Every kid should get the best start possible.”
She raises her tea to me in salute. “Agreed.”
After many hours, I find myself not wanting to leave, which is a feeling I haven’t had in a very long time. Her cottage is quite homey, but it’s more than that. Far more.
When I finally go, she walks me to the door. And before I’ve fully decided to, I reach out and tuck a dark curl behind her ear, very gently, because it has been bothering me for an hour and because I cannot seem to stop myself.
She looks up at me. And there it is, that same current from the plane, the same pull, entirely unchanged by nine months and three babies and the complicated geometry of our situation.
I do not wish to leave. Not now. But I force myself to say the words. “Good night, Sage.”
“Good night, Ronan,” she says.
Neither of us moves. Not at first.
But then Sage closes the gap, and when we meet in the middle, and my lips press to hers, something in my chest goes tight and free at the same time. All day long, I have yearned for this exact moment, and it does not disappoint.
But then she pulls back. “I’m sorry—my hormones are all over the place, and I think I misread?—”
“You misread nothing. But you’re also not in a position to be making any big decisions right now due to your hormones and all the drugs we pumped you full of, and I must respect that. Which is part of why I’m leaving now, because…” A sigh breaks from me as I press my forehead to hers. “If I don’t leave now, I will kiss you. Again and again, until I find it impossible to leave tonight.”
She smiles. “I can’t have sex tonight. Or for the next eight weeks. According to the nurses.”
“I am well aware. But I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about you. The longer I’m with you, the more I don’t want to be without you. So, I bid you good evening, love.” With every ounce of strength I have, I turn on my heel and make it to my car before I allow myself to smile.
She calls out, “I know what you mean, Ronan. I don’t like seeing you leave. Good night.” Then she closes the door.
