Sage took in her elegant surroundings with an air of disbelief. The Cahill gardens resembled a magical fairyland, with lush, fragrant flowers and twinkling lights everywhere.
She’d expected her presence to provoke some snide comments or passive-aggressive remarks from Cordelia or, at the very least, some withering glances. But Flynn’s mother had been perfectly civil, bordering on pleasant.
In fact, the entire evening had passed like a dream. Dancing, incredible food, and stunning views of the sunset from the clifftop estate.
Flynn hadn’t left her side all evening, except to fetch them a fresh glass of champagne.
She smiled, her heart soaring with unbridled bliss, as he wove through the gathering of impeccably dressed guests, wielding two crystal flutes.
He passed her a glass, and up close, she noticed the worry lines creasing his brow.
“What’s wrong?” Had his mother’s good mood finally worn off?
“Nothing. It’s just—there’s something I need to tell you.” His frown lines deepened, and her pulse sputtered.
“What is it?” She managed to keep her voice steady while her heartbeat thrummed wildly.
“It’s something important. But we can’t talk here. It needs to be somewhere private.” He glanced toward the house. The regal mansion with its myriad windows and multiple balconies gleamed in the darkness. “Can we go inside for a minute?”
She swallowed the bitter taste of panic. What did he want to talk about? It sounded serious. Had he changed his mind about the sailing charter? About them?
Relax. Breathe. You’re jumping to the worst-case scenario. Flynn wouldn’t do that to you. Not again.
“Sure.” She tried to keep her voice from shaking as she set her unsipped champagne on the tray of a passing server.
But before they could move toward the house, Randolph Cahill’s commanding voice reverberated across the garden.
“Thank you all for coming tonight.” Tall and imposing in a slick black suit, Randolph stood on a raised podium, Cordelia preening by his side. He caught Flynn’s eye, and an unspoken directive passed between father and son.
“Will you excuse me for one second? I’ll be right back.” He handed her his glass of champagne and kissed her cheek before heading toward the podium.
She watched him walk away, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
You’re being ridiculous. Everything is fine.
She took a sip of Flynn’s champagne.
“Today marks the fortieth anniversary of our little family company, and we couldn’t be prouder of how far we’ve come.”
Sage tried not to roll her eyes at his self-deprecating tone. The little family company had hundreds of employees.
As Randolph launched into a well-rehearsed speech about how he’d founded the business from nothing, yada, yada, yada, Sage glanced around at the mingling guests, wondering how many times they’d heard the same story. And how much of it had been exaggerated over the years.
“Of course, I couldn’t have done any of it without my wife and partner, Cordelia.” At this part of the speech, Cordelia offered the crowd a self-effacing smile, as if she had no idea she’d be recognized by her husband.
Sage took another sip of champagne.
“I’d also like to thank my son.”
The champagne fizz burned the back of her throat, and she pressed a fist to her chest, both to clear the tingling bubbles and calm her racing heart.
“Thanks to Flynn’s tireless dedication over the last decade, we surpassed our company goals year after year.” Randolph placed a proud hand on Flynn’s shoulder.
Sage stretched onto her tiptoes, straining for a better look at Flynn’s face, desperate to read his indiscernible expression. Was he nervous? Uncomfortable? Anxious for the ordeal to be over?
“Which is why,” Cordelia interjected, taking the microphone from her husband’s hands, “we’re thrilled to announce Flynn’s new role as vice president of Cahill Enterprises, effective immediately.”
As Cordelia beamed like a beacon from the podium, the crowd erupted in applause.
Sage staggered backward, sloshing champagne onto her shoes.
No. This couldn’t be happening. Flynn had given her his word.
The world seemed to spin and spiral out of control, and everything turned upside down.
Suddenly, she was eighteen again, waiting on a dock for someone who’d never arrive. Abandoned. Discarded. Like she’d never mattered at all.
The heat of humiliation singed her skin.
This is what he wanted to talk about, what he’d wanted to tell her.
All night long, he’d known this would happen.
They’d laughed together, held hands, and stolen secret kisses.
She’d never felt more foolish or so agonizingly disoriented.
Desperate to escape, she set the champagne flute on the ledge of a stone planter and scrambled up the back steps into the house. She bumped into a server with a fresh tray of hors d’oeuvres exiting through the French doors. Mumbling an apology, she kept her head down, embarrassed by the mounting tears poised to tumble down her cheeks any moment.
She made it out the front door, down the marble steps, and onto the gravel drive before she heard Flynn’s voice.
“Sage, wait!” he called after her, urgent and breathless.
“I did wait for you,” she shouted back without looking over her shoulder or slowing her pace. “For five excruciating hours, I waited on that dock for you.” Bleary-eyed, she followed the faint glow of pathway lights lining the sloping drive.
“Please, Sage. You don’t understand.” His voice drew closer, and she kicked off her heels, leaving them behind as she quickened her pace, ignoring the prick of pebbles beneath her bare feet.
“You’re the one who doesn’t understand.” Hurt and frustration rose in her chest, crowding out her lungs, suffocating all rational thought, leaving only her raw emotions. Whirling around, she asked, “Do you have any idea what those five hours were like for me? I thought something horrible had happened to you. I thought I’d lost you, too.” Her voice broke as the memory of that day barged into her thoughts. She’d never been more terrified, convinced nothing but an awful act of fate could keep him from meeting her that day.
A sob welled in her throat, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep it at bay, determined not to break down in front of him.
“I’m so sorry.” He stood beside her now, his tone an avalanche of remorse.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at his face, to see the emotion in his eyes. Pain and confusion mixed with the past and present, leaving her a muddled mess. She suddenly needed him to know exactly what she went through that day. “I went to your house after you didn’t show up, to see if you were okay. Your mom told me you’d left. She said you finally came to your senses and didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
“I’m sorry she said that to you.” Flynn sounded genuinely pained by his mother’s words, but Sage couldn’t see past her own blinding hurt. “You know it wasn’t true, right?”
“And how would I know that?” Pain clawed at her chest, desperate to escape in a weep or a whimper, anything to release the pressure crushing her heart. “You didn’t call. You didn’t write. You simply left. You let your dad use his money and connections to get you into Wharton in Kevin’s place, and then you just disappeared from my life without a word.”
She glanced up at the stars, blinking rapidly to delay the burgeoning tears.
Whatever you do, do not cry in front of him.
“I’m so s—”
“Don’t!” She held up a trembling hand. “Don’t say you’re sorry. I’m tired of your I’m sorrys when nothing ever changes. The last time you left, I fell apart. But not this time. This time will be different.” Her voice shook, and she gathered a steadying breath. “This time, I’m the one leaving. And I don’t want you to follow me.” The words left her mouth like sharp, unflinching stabs, meant to leave a mark.
She quickly spun around and resumed her trek down the hill before he could spot the tears falling freely now.
Music and laughter from the party trailed after her, blending with the crunch of gravel beneath her throbbing feet and the gentle hum of the distant sea.
But there was one sound she didn’t hear.
The sound of Flynn coming after her.
Despite her attempt at self-preservation, to fend off more pain, the deafening silence hurt as much in that moment as it had ten years ago when she stood alone on that dock.