Sage felt like he'd stabbed her in the heart. Ah, no, damn, no.
"She walked away from me, crying. Then you freaking lied to me? Strike three, Sage."
"You set me up!" Sage retorted. "You wanted to see what I would do, say."
"That's your defense?" Tyce gripped her arms in his big hands, bending down so that his face was level with hers. "Bad move, Ballantyne. Lachlyn and I spent our childhoods with a mother who didn't love us enough to want to get better, who didn't want us around and gave us no attention. She certainly had no interest in getting to know us, on any level. It was far more fun being a chronic depressive. My point is, we know when we're not wanted."
His voice, so calm and so controlled, cut through her. Sage felt hot tears running down her cheeks. "Tyce, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make either of you feel like that."
Tyce dropped his hands, held them up and stepped away. "As I said... You want space? Take as much as you need."
Sage held her fist to her mouth as she watched Tyce stride away. She called out to him in the vain hope that he would turn around and come back. Tyce just broke into a jog, leaving her standing in the icy wind.
Ashamed and annoyed at herself, and so very embarrassed, Sage looked up at her building and considered going up. She could take that bath and try for an early night but she knew that the chances of her sleeping were minimal at best. She was exhausted but sleep would be elusive unless she found Tyce and apologized. Sage thought about using her cell phone to call him but that would be too easy, the cowardly way out. She needed to look him in the eye and take her medicine like the big girl she now was.
Where would he have gone on a cold winter's night? To the apartment in Chelsea or the studio in Brooklyn? He'd go to where his art was, Sage decided. If he was half as frustrated as she was, then he'd try to lose himself in his work, to fall into that space where pesky problems and annoying people faded away.
But before she went to Tyce, she had to mend a blown-up fence. Sage pulled out her phone. She held her breath, knowing that the chance of her call being answered was slim to none.
"Hello?"
"Lach?" Sage heard her voice break as she used Tyce's pet name for his sister. "I've really messed up. Firstly, I'm sorry that I ignored your call-I'm not very good at letting people in and I got scared. I'm really, really sorry."
"Okay," Lachlyn replied, her tone cautious.
"You are so like Connor, Lachlyn. It's taking some time to get used to."
"I can't help that," Lachlyn said, her voice cool.
"I know," Sage replied. "Just give me some time, please? I'm feeling a little overwhelmed."
"So am I, Sage."
God, she'd never considered the situation from Lachlyn's point of view, she'd never thought about how hard it had to be to step into a family and wonder if they'd like her, even love her. Sage had been so selfish, so caught up in her own drama.
These Latimores certainly had a way of making her see herself clearly.
"I can forgive you for hurting me, Sage, but I will never forgive you if you hurt Tyce. If you ask me to pick a side between you and your brothers, or Tyce, I will, always, always pick Tyce. Do not doubt that."
Sage appreciated the sentiment and she respected Lachlyn's loyalty to her brother.
"I'm going to head to his studio to apologize."
"That's not a good idea and he won't appreciate it. Give him some time and space to deal with his anger," Lachlyn suggested.
"Okay." Sage rubbed the back of her neck. "I am sorry for earlier, Lachlyn. And I need you to know that it's not my intention to hurt Tyce."
"Really?" Lachlyn sounded skeptical. "For someone who is acting unintentionally, you're doing a damn fine job of doing just that."
The next evening, Sage stood in the doorway of the sitting room of The Den holding Ellie. She looked across the space to the Ballantyne women. Piper and Cady sat on the Persian carpet on either side of Amy, and Tate sat on the big leather couch close to them. Each of them held a book containing fabric swatches but only Amy was flipping through hers and cursing like a sailor. There were four books of open fabric samples on the carpet in front of her and another five on the coffee table. From her position in the doorway, Sage could only see minuscule differences in the shades of cream.
Sage rubbed her cheek against Ellie's curls and cuddled the little girl closer. Linc had bundled her into her arms as soon as she stepped into The Den, telling her that Shaw had accidentally emptied an entire bottle of bath bubbles into his bath.
Accidentally-on-purpose, Sage was sure.
"What are you doing?" Sage asked the women.
Four heads swiveled around and Tate crossed the room to her, giving her, and Ellie, a warm hug. Ellie deserted Sage by tumbling into her mom's arms.
Sage greeted everyone and gestured to the books. "What are you trying to decide? Can I help?"
"The exact shade of cream for the reception tablecloths."
Behind Amy, Cady rolled her eyes, and Sage hid her smile. There had been murmurs of Amy turning into Bridezilla but only when they were very, very sure that Amy wasn't around. Amy, as Linc and Beck's PA, was the power behind the Ballantyne throne.
"Jules told me that I am driving her mad with the wedding arrangements and she's threatening to kidnap me and take me to Vegas." Amy pushed out her bottom lip. "I just want it to be perfect."
Sage bent down and gave her a hug. "You're overthinking it, honey. Choose one-they are all pretty much the same."
Amy glared at the books. "I will. After I look through the books on the floor once more. How are you?"
Sage shrugged, thinking that there was no point in lying. "Horrible." Sage plopped down into the corner of the couch and rubbed the back of her neck. "I really messed up. Again."
Four sets of sympathetic eyes rested on her face and, for the first time ever, the words tumbled out of her as she explained what a complete idiot she'd been and how she'd hurt Lachlyn. And Tyce.
"I apologized to Lachlyn and I've tried to call Tyce, repeatedly, but he's ignoring me," Sage said.
She shoved her hands into her hair and saw the sympathetic faces. She lifted up her hand. "Don't feel too sorry for me, guys-this was all my fault. I knew that if I allowed myself to get close that I'd get hurt."
Sage stared at the books of fabric swatches, her eyes wet with tears. "I love him. I do. I think I always have but as soon as he gets too close, I push him away."
Tate sank to the floor next to her legs and rested her temple against Sage's knee. "Oh, honey. What are you going to do?"
Sage shrugged. Since this was the first time she'd frankly and openly admitted that she loved Tyce, to herself as well as to her family, she hadn't given the next step much thought. "I don't know. I know I need to apologize but I can't do that unless I speak to him. And I don't know if I can do the whole sleeping-together-without-love thing anymore. I want to tell him that I love him but I think that he might run. Fast and hard." Sage placed a hand on her stomach. "And, man, that will hurt like a bitch and you guys know how hard I work to avoid being hurt."
"So you love him?" Tate asked.
Sage nodded. "Yes, I love him." Of that much she was sure. "I always have."
"So do it," Tate said, her voice firm.
Sage frowned. "Sorry, what?"
"So you're scared, so he might run. Do it anyway," Tate said, resting her hand on Sage's thigh. "We think that we have to get rid of the fear first when, actually, what we have to do is act first. Only then does the fear go away."
Cady nodded. "The only way to stop being afraid of loving someone is to love them."
Sage stared at her flat biker boots. "But what if he leaves?" she quietly asked. "Or dies?"
"Then he leaves or dies," Piper said. She climbed to her feet and, moving behind her, leaned over and wrapped her arms around Sage's waist, her chin on her shoulder. "We can't be responsible for, or try to control, what other people do, baby. We only have control over our actions. We can only worry about what we can control."
Sage hugged Piper's arms to her, her eyes filling with tears. This was what a support base felt like, what belonging to a tribe of strong women felt like. These were the Ballantyne women-Sage had always thought that Amy should change her name to Ballantyne and be done with it-and they were a unit. And, her blurry eyes focused on her niece, who was sitting in Tate's lap, they were raising another generation of strong Ballantyne women.
Their wise counsel made sense and she was grateful for it. She wasn't sure if she'd take their advice but she'd certainly think about it. She'd think about it a lot.
"Wine!" Amy said, standing up. "I know that Linc recently bought a case of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti. He won't miss a bottle, or three."