Page 129 of Until August

I was falling. But so was Nicola.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. That had never been the deal.

But I had no fucking clue what to do about it.

So I did the only thing I could think to do.

I fucked her senseless.

CHAPTERFORTY-FIVE

August

I arrived earlythe following day, eager to see Sage. As bad luck would have it, Travis answered the door in board shorts, a t-shirt, and bare feet. No sign of Sage. He swept his arm toward the living room. “Come on in.”

He sounded almost jovial, as if we were old buddies. Or, more likely, he was looking forward to his new life in fucking Hawaii. I crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to budge from my spot on the doorstep. “Just get Sage. I’ll wait.”

Travis scowled. “Stop being such a stubborn bastard. Come inside.”

Since Sage was nowhere to be seen and Travis was already walking away with the door wide open, I sighed and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. I walked across the blond wood floors of the living area with soaring ceilings and modern art hanging on the white walls. On my way to the kitchen, I checked out the aquarium filled with coral and exotic fish built into the wall.

No wonder Sage loved this house.

I stopped on the other side of the granite island, where Travis poured juice into two glasses and set one in front of me. I cast a wary eye on it as if he’d just put a glass of arsenic in front of me. “What is this?”

“You’re the chef. You tell me.”

I nearly rolled my eyes. I didn’t want to play this game, so I left the green juice on the counter and looked around at the lounge area behind me with low-slung sofas and surfing photos on the walls. “Where’s Sage?”

“Upstairs in his room. He said he had to finish something.”

What could be more important than seeing his own father after six weeks of being away? I didn’t voice my question, but Travis responded as if I had.

“Whatever project he’s working on, it’s top secret. So I’m guessing it’s for you.”

Normally, I’d be thrilled that Sage was working on a project for me. Now though, I took it as a sign that he was leaving, and this was a goodbye present. “Where’s Sasha?”

He downed the contents of his glass and set it in the sink before responding. His kitchen was modern, all white except for the stainless-steel appliances. “Sunrise yoga.”

Great. So it was just the two of us, and it was awkward as fuck. My gaze drifted to the accordion doors with an infinity pool on the other side. And beyond that, the Pacific Ocean that would be separating me from my son.

I had questions.

When are you moving?

How much more time would I have with Sage before you take off?

Could I have Christmas? Thanksgiving? And all the days in between?

But I couldn’t bring myself to voice any of them.

I’d gone over it in my head a million times. Should I get a lawyer and drag Sasha to court? Should I fight for custody? But in the end, it always came back to Sage and what he wanted. In all our video chats, he seemed happy. And I tried to put myself in his shoes.

If I was a seven-year-old boy with a father who loved me, how would I want him to behave?

I didn’t have to think that hard about the answer.

I would want reassurance that wherever I was, my father would still love me and do everything in his power to prove it to me. Not by going to battle with my mother and stepfather but by being the bigger man and making my life easier, not harder.