Page 77 of Dual Surrender

The implications of the thought had the potential to do forever damage to the rest of my relationship with Foster and for as angry and resentful as I was, that wasn’t’ the end I wanted. I shook my head, taking a drink of my coffee instead of answering.

“What?” he asked again. “Come on, Ronan. I know I fucked up, but please talk to me. I’m trying to make it right.”

“How can I trust you?”

Foster sucked in a breath that sounded like it hurt him and I tightened my hold on the coffee cup, looking away. He shifted in his chair and whispered something to Sage that I couldn’t hear.

“You can trust me,” Sage answered.

“I don’t know you.”

“I’m a man of my word.”

“So was he.” I set my coffee down and picked up my phone, standing and walking past them both to go back into the house.

There was no answer here, no resolution. If things were to get better between Foster and I, there would have to be time and proof of the things he claimed.

“Ronan,” Foster called after me from the slider. He slipped into the house with Sage on his heels, pulling the door closed behind him.

“What?”

“Let me have a reset,” he said, joining me in the living room.

“Excuse me?”

“A reset.” He almost rolled his eyes at me. “You know what I mean. Let’s start over.”

“One, you’re not mine to punish anymore. Two, this isn’t that simple.”

“Why not?” he asked. “Can’t it be?”

“I can help you with the first part.” Sage leaned against the back of the couch, the hint of a smile on his face.

“This is really fucked, you know that, right?”

“Twelve days you’ll be without your other half?” Sage asked.

I nodded.

“Then twelve.” He shrugged. “It might not be enough, but it’s a start.”

I didn’t in my wildest dreams think that Sage giving any sort of punishment to Foster was going to do anything to reset the tangle of feelings that existed in my chest about him, but it seemed important to him to try. And much like Kevin, I wouldn’t begrudge my friends much, though I worried knowing Foster, he would like it more than he’d hate it.

“Alright,” I conceded. “A start.”

“Go get a chair,” Sage said to Foster, who looked at him with marked confusion, but Sage’s command hung heavy between them and Foster disappeared into the dining room, returning with one of his dining chairs.

“Sit down. On your hands,” Sage commanded further, and Foster settled in the chair, his hands beneath his legs.

“I thought…” I started to speak, started to question the positioning, but Sage’s bare palm smacked so loud across Foster’s face it stunned me into silence.

“That’s one,” he said to me, then looked to Foster. “Now apologize again.”

“I’m sorry, Ronan.”

“This isn’t nec…”

Another slap across Foster’s cheek, this one drawing blood from the corner of his mouth.