Page 52 of Thunder's Reckoning

I turned it slow.

She hadn’t locked it.

That cut deeper than if she had. If she’d locked me out, at least I’d know she was angry. But leavin’ it open? That meant she was already closin’ the door inside herself.

Sable stood in the middle of the livin’ room, arms crossed tight like she was holdin’ her whole world together with nothin’ but bone and will. She didn’t turn when I stepped in. Didn’t flinch. But I saw the tension in every line of her back, like she was bracin’ for impact.

Maybe a fight.

Maybe goodbye.

“I wasn’t with her,” I said. “Not the way you think.”

She turned slow, eyes shadowed, her face too calm. Too practiced. Like she’d already decided what version of me she was gonna believe.

“I’m not upset,” she said softly. Too softly.

That stopped me cold. “You… aren’t?”

She gave a small shrug, like she was shrinkin’ smaller right there in front of me. “It was just bad timing on my part. I shouldn’t have come in without knocking. I overreacted.”

“Sable—”

“I’m sorry,” she cut in, that soft tone diggin’ under my ribs worse than if she’d screamed. “You don’t owe me a thing. You’ve done more for me and the kids than I could ever ask for. I won’t make this uncomfortable.”

Her words were polite as poison. Gentle as bruises. Like she’d already decided she wasn’t worth fightin’ for.

I stepped in, closin’ the space until I was right in front of her. “You’re not hearin’ me.”

She kept her gaze down. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have let myself think there was more between us. I misunderstood that kiss.”

She was foldin’ up tight, lockin’ down what little we’d started, and I’ll be damned if that didn’t break me clean in two.

“Really?” My voice came out tight, and a little angry. “You really think I kissed you ’cause I felt sorry for you?”

“I think you’re a good man,” she said, face still unreadable. “And maybe that kiss was just… one of those kind things you do for someone when you pity them. Maybe that’s all it was. A moment.”

My hands curled into fists. Rage burned deep, not at her, but at every bastard who made her think kindness was pity, that want could only ever be sin.

“No.”

She finally looked up, brows pulling. “Zeke—”

“No,” I snapped again, heat climbin’ my ribs. “You don’t get to look at me the way you did, kiss me like that, stir up every damn thing inside me, and then walk away like it was nothin’.”

Her eyes shined wet, but she held the tears back with that stubborn strength of hers.

“Men have vices,” she whispered. “Lust is in their nature. And not even the greatest love can stop a man when temptation’s put in front of him.”

“That’s bullshit,” I growled. “And you damn well know it.”

“Do I?” she bit out, brittle. “Because from where I stood, she looked plenty comfortable sitting on your lap.”

I held her stare, unblinkin’. Let the accusation hang heavy in the air.

“I didn’t want her,” I said. “Didn’t touch her. She came in, dropped herself on me, and yeah, I froze. Should’ve thrown her off faster. Should’ve been clearer. You walked in before I did. That’s on me. But don’t you dare think for one second she meant a damn thing.”

She went quiet. Shoulders still tight like she was carryin’ the weight of both our pasts.