There stood Sage, covered in red, her lovely bridal gown stained with crimson blood. The sight struck Wade like a lightning bolt, freezing him in place. His surroundings faded into a blur as his heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out all other sounds.
It was as if time stood still, but when his mother shook him and urged him to come with her, he snapped back to reality. He noticed Sage being carried towards the waiting ambulance, and without a moment's hesitation, he rushed to be by her side. Her face, pale and her lips chapped, sent a surge of panic through him. Her once radiant expression had faded, and her eyes were barely open, gazing at him with a mix of weakness and love.
"Max...," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. He gently hushed her, his voice trembling, "Don't speak now. We'll be at the hospital soon, alright?" He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.
Despite his attempts to remain strong for her, tears welled up in Wade's eyes. He couldn't hold back the overwhelming flood of emotions any longer. He didn't even realize when the tears started streaming down his cheeks, blurring his vision as he gazed at Sage's face through the haze of his own tears. He kissed her on the cheek and whispered, "I will never let you go. Stay strong, Sage, and fight for me. I love you so much that I'm afraid of living without you."
He struggled to regain composure, but it felt impossible. The thought of a life without Sage haunted him, consuming his every thought.
Sage, sensing his anguish, mustered a faint smile before closing her eyes, succumbing to the darkness that beckoned. The sight of her peaceful slumber filled Wade with a strange ache in his heart, as if foreboding something terrible. And then, after what felt like an eternity, the monitor emitted a sudden, piercing beep, causing Wade's eyes to shoot open. The once steady rhythm had given way to a flat line.
He slumped forward, burying his face in his hands. Though he was in a hospital room, reality hit him hard—the devastating truth was that she was gone.
"What happened to me?" he asked, his voice hoarse, as a nurse stood nearby.
"You were brought in after your car crashed into a tree. Luckily, there are no injuries," she replied, smiling sympathetically.
It had all been a dream—a nightmare. Sage was still alive.
Snapping back to the present, Wade urgently inquired about the time. The doctor informed him it was 5:32, leaving him with only three hours until the scheduled wedding. Acting swiftly, he called his assistant, instructing him to arrange transportation. With a mix of anxiety and determination, Wade rushed to his car, his only thought to see Sage.
Entering the dressing area, he ignored the voices calling out to him, urging him to get ready. All he wanted was to be with her. Bursting into her dressing room without knocking, he found Sage in the arms of Grayson, her laughter and blushing cheeks piercing his heart.
Grayson, a strikingly handsome man of Korean-French descent, possessed all the qualities that made women weak in the knees. Fair skin, black eyes, dark black hair, and a killer jawline—he had the power to captivate anyone. The sight of him hugging Sage before Wade had the chance angered and tormented him. Suppressing his emotions, Wade composed himself and said, "Can I please talk to my wife alone for a moment?"
Grayson smiled and nodded, understanding Wade's request, before whispering something to Sage that made her laugh. The sight only fueled Wade's anger, silently seething as he awaited their departure, eager to have a conversation with his wife.
As soon as Grayson left, Sage's smile vanished, intensifying Wade's fury. "So, she can smile with him, but she can't smile with me?" he thought to himself, unaware of the growing jealousy within him. Acting on impulse, he swiftly locked the door, leaving Sage confused and puzzled.
Sage approached him cautiously, and just as he turned around, they found themselves impossibly close. Instinctively, he placed a hand on her waist, drawing her nearer. Without uttering a word, he nuzzled his head against her neck, causing her to freeze. "Wade?" she whispered softly, her voice barely audible in their proximity. She couldn't comprehend his sudden change in behavior. Wade hummed, holding her tighter, finding solace in her safety.
"Did something happen?" Sage unconsciously reached up to caress his hair, a gesture she had done since they were children. Her touch made him smile, a flicker of joy hidden from her view. He shook his head, indicating that nothing had happened, releasing her hold, though her warmth was sorely missed.
But as he recalled the events that transpired moments ago, his demeanor changed abruptly. Collecting his thoughts, he attempted to speak gently, emphasis on the word "tried."
"What was Grayson's reason for holding you so tightly? And why were you blushing and giggling like that?" Wade wanted to silence himself forever, his voice tainted with bitterness.
He expected Sage to flinch or react in some way, but she stood there, her face devoid of emotion. "Whether Grayson hugs me, kisses me, or even fucks me, I don't think that's any of your business," she replied, matching his tone. Deep down, she knew those words were far from the truth. The thought of betraying Wade hadn't even crossed her mind.
His anger flared further, and he asked, his voice tinged with nervousness, "Are you guys dating?" The reason behind his question eluded him.
"No, we're not," she answered firmly, meeting his gaze, her eyes fixated on his swollen lips and red eyes, evidence of his recent intimate encounter before their marriage.
His rage intensified, and he gripped her arms tightly, pulling her closer until their faces were inches apart. "I am going to be your fucking husband, so, of course, it's my goddamn business," he spoke slowly, as if addressing a child.
She scoffed dramatically, breaking free from his hold. "You should have thought about that before sleeping with someone else. And what marriage?" Her words dripped with deadly venom, causing him to flinch inwardly at how much she had changed.
She didn't want to fight, but all the pent-up hatred and anger from the past years burst forth upon seeing him.
"Why does he even care? It was just a hug, and besides, Grayson is..." Her thoughts trailed off as she was interrupted by his muted voice.
He knew he had misspoken and wanted to apologize, but his ego got in the way. Seeing her perception of him was painful, yet that's the reputation he carried within the Mafia. The silent man-whore, as he was known worldwide, but the reality was far from it.
"Right, I mentioned this as a marriage, didn't I? Well, it was all a lie, babe. This isn't a marriage and never will be. It's just a deal. I agreed to this marriage out of pity for you and your dying father, nothing more," he chuckled mockingly, hurting her more than he could ever imagine.
He couldn't bear to see her like this. It felt as though he was torn between hurting her, the only thing he knew how to do, and showering her with love to keep her by his side forever.
But he was terrified— Terrified of his past, Terrified of her growing hatred, Terrified of losing her again.
Yet, he couldn't be selfish and hold onto her indefinitely. Even if she forgave him for what he had done, an almost impossible feat, he would never forgive himself.
Every time he closed his eyes, her tear-stained face haunted him. The face that once radiated a smile capable of brightening his entire world now reflected nothing but resentment.
-Flashback over-
-Back to the present-
WADE CALLAHAN
I messed up, big time. Well, I always do, but this time it went too far.
I need to apologize.
Should I get down on my knees and beg for her forgiveness?
Will she ever forgive me? Well, she isn't THAT cruel, I hope.
Okay, maybe she is.
I'm at a loss for what to do.
Maybe I should buy her some books? No, wait, she's probably richer than me. What am I thinking?
I guess I'll just have to beg.
Interrupting my thoughts, I got up to plead for her forgiveness.
Yes, it hurt my male ego, but she's more important than my foolish pride.
I went downstairs and found her sitting at the table surrounded by papers and her laptop.
Has she even eaten?
I sat next to her, and for a brief moment, she glanced at me before averting her eyes, focusing on her work.
Should I just kneel down? How do people even apologize?
As I prepared to kneel, the chair leg caught me off guard, causing me to stumble and fall to the ground, hitting my head in the process.
Ouch.
I groaned in pain, struggling to get back up. Despite the discomfort, I looked up and saw her with her hand over her mouth, desperately trying to stifle her laughter.
When she met my gaze, she couldn't hold it in any longer and burst into laughter—a laughter that brought tears to her eyes.
Seeing her like that, I couldn't help but join in, even though I had no idea why we were laughing. Tears streamed down my face, prompting me to lower my head to wipe them away before she could see.
To my surprise, she lowered herself to my level, kneeling beside me, and gently wiped away my tears with the pads of her thumbs. Her eyes searched my face for any signs of injury, and she softly traced an old scar near my eyebrow—a remnant from one of the times my dad abused me.
The pain from my recent fall must have been near that scar, as I winced when she touched the area.
Noticing my discomfort, she quickly withdrew her hand and grabbed hold of mine, attempting to pull me up. However, my legs had gone numb from sitting in that position.
"My legs are numb," I said, sounding like a spoiled child expecting to be carried by their mother. At that moment, I just wanted to savor this.
"So? Do you want me to give you a piggyback ride or something?" she asked, raising an eyebrow mockingly, amused by my predicament.
I simply nodded, doing my best not to smile at her perplexed expression. She sighed dramatically and slid both her arms under mine, lifting me up and helping me stand as if I were a child.
God, she's incredibly strong.
I stumbled a bit, seizing the opportunity to wrap my arms around her shoulder, pulling her closer. I tightened my grip around her neck, feeling her breath against my cheek, our bodies pressed together.
"Is this better?" she asked, her voice filled with tenderness, her fingers caressing my hair.
"It's perfect," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
We stood there, locked in an embrace, feeling the warmth of each other's bodies. Time seemed to stand still as we swayed gently, finding solace in one another.
In that moment, I realized that words weren't enough. I couldn't express the depth of my remorse or the love I had for her with mere words.
But maybe, just maybe, through actions and the tender moments we shared, she would understand.