evening wasn’t that cold and she had nowhere to be.
Time passed slowly. Sage thought about that first, serendipitous meeting, only a few months ago, when Krissa had been sick and Daisy’s car wouldn’t start. She remembered the shock of Cassidy’s accident and how she’d spent so many nights here when her sister refused to stop texting. How over time, she and Daisy had discovered that maybe they could be friends and how they’d come to depend on each other.
Sage had blown it all for a one-night stand with a guy she didn’t even care about.
“I should probably get therapy,” she murmured aloud. “Find out why I’m so self-destructive.”
She sat there, ignoring how her butt was sore and starting to get numb from the hard porch step. At some point she would have to give up and go home, but for now—
The front door opened and Cassidy stepped out.
Sage stood and faced her.
Cassidy shook her head. “She doesn’t want to see you, Sage. You hurt her.”
“I know and I’m sorry. That’s what I want to tell her. That I’m sorry and I wish I could take it back.”
“That’s not good enough. She’s divorcing Jordan. The kids are upset and it’s going to take a while for everyone to process. You hurt them. All of them. Not just Daisy, but Ben and Krissa.”
Something Sage hadn’t thought about. Her mouth began to tremble as tears filled her eyes. “No. Not them. They have to be okay.” She twisted her hands together. “I don’t know what to do. Cassidy, you have to help me.”
“I don’t know how.” Her sister stared at her. “Why’d you do it?”
“I don’t know. I got scared. Everything was so good and it’s never good for me. I guess I wanted to control what the bad thing was going to be. I know how to be when things are bad. That’s all I know.”
“You picked a hell of a way to screw up your life.”
“I know. I miss her and I miss you and the kids and everything.”
Her voice was pleading, her tone desperate, but Cassidy was unmoved. “She doesn’t want to see you.” She sighed. “I guess you and I could hang out sometime, but we’d have to meet somewhere else. I get my cast off tomorrow and I’ll need some physical therapy but then I can drive and meet you.”
Sage moved forward, intending to hug her, but Cassidy pushed her away.
“Don’t do that. I’m not ready.”
The verbal slap caught her off guard. Cassidy had never done that before—if anything her sister clung to her too much. She was the one Cassidy called whenever she was down.
“But I was here for you,” she managed, barely able to speak. “All those nights.”
“I know and I appreciate that. But jeez, Sage. This was bad and you were wrong.”
She turned and went into the house. The door closed and Sage heard the dead bolt being engaged, and then there was nothing.
* * *
Two weeks after finding out about Jordan and Sage, Daisy was almost sleeping through the night. She’d met with her lawyer twice, and together they’d drawn up a temporary parenting plan. She would have primary custody of the kids, with Jordan seeing them every other weekend and on Wednesday nights.
Ben and Krissa were a little quiet but seemed to be processing the changes in their lives. She’d found a highly recommended child psychologist and had scheduled appointments for each of them. Their teachers and school counselor had been told what was happening. So far they were both doing fine in their classes and with their friends. The biggest problem, as far as Daisy was concerned, was they kept asking about Sage.
“Why can’t we see her?” Krissa had demanded that night at dinner. “I want to show her how much better I’m reading in French.”
Ben had wanted to tell her about his science project. “She gets that stuff, Mom.”
Cassidy had saved her butt with a quick lie about how Sage was out of town, but would be back soon. Daisy knew she was going to have to come up with something to explain her absence, although she had no idea what. The truth wasn’t an option.
Of course they missed their aunt—Sage had become a part of their lives. Even more troubling, Daisy had to admit she missed Sage, as well. Finding her after all this time had seemed like some kind of miracle. To lose her again—especially over something so stupid and tragic—was almost more than she could stand.