"He said, 'I want to marry you'. And you know what I said?"

Sabina purses her lips and shrugs. "I'm going to be honest with you, your tits are so huge right now."

"I said, 'Me? Why?' Like an idiot!" MJ continues frustratingly, raising her palms in the air and leaning back forcibly on her chair. "Who else would it be, dumbass," she mutters to herself, grabbing her wine glass.

"They're huge in that dress," Sabina comments, nodding at her outfit today.

"Sabina." The ginger glares at her, teeth baring. "I know they're great, but right now, what do I do?"

"About what?" Sabina asks, blinking.

"Adrian!"

"Oh, he still wants to marry you after that?"

MJ doesn't find it funny. Sabina giggles and takes a sip of her mimosa.

"I'm freaking out, I don't want him to propose yet, it's too soon," her friend mutters, shaking her head. Strands of hair fall in her eyes, and Sabina reaches out to tuck her hair behind her ear. MJ's looking at a distance, bouncing her leg. "Is it? Too soon?"

Sabina rolls her eyes and flatly asks, "Do you even want it?"

She blinks at her. "Okay, I know it's kind of hard for you to be nice, but Adrian is a person, Sabina."

"I was talking about marriage, stupid," the older says. She clicks her tongue. "Mm. I can see why he should withhold the proposal. Consider his options."

"God." MJ smacks her. "I don't know, okay? I don't know, I'm busy, I have hotels to run, he has a clinic to run—"

"Just say you're scared he'll hurt you again and go," Sabina snaps. "At least with your situation right now, you know you can leave him any time he lies to you again. But marriage—no, you're tied down to this man for the rest of your life. Do you want that, Mary Jane?"

"What I want right now is to leave for work, Dad's coming to check on our progress for the anniversary." She downs the last of her wine. "You were useless. Ah, how's babysitting going, by the way?"

Sabina glares at her.

MJ laughs and stands up. "Calm your tits, I'm going. Good luck to Tristan." She reaches over to kiss Sabina's cheek and then she's out the door, heels clicking loudly on the tiles. She says goodbye to her mother and to Allan, too, seated on the table out at the balcony, talking to each other while they patiently wait for Sabina's boyfriend.

Sabina's boyfriend, who, when he comes, is bringing a bouquet of flowers for her parents.

He's embarrassing, Sabina thinks, even as her pulse jumps. She stands up and walks over, halting him from stepping out the elevator. "Hello, handsome."

He's wearing a polo shirt and slacks. His watch is shiny on his wrist, and he smiles at her. "Hey, beautiful. Anything I should know before I walk in there?"

Sabina wraps an arm around his waist and kisses his jaw. In his ear, she whispers, "Eat everything on the table. Madeline gets offended if you don't."

"Got it." He swallows thickly. "What about your dad?"

"Oh, he loves you already, come on."

MJ's mother lets out a pleasant laugh, opening her arms once they spot them coming closer to the balcony. "Ah!" she says delightedly. "You're the man making my Sabina happy!"

"Madeline, this is Tristan. Tristan, this is Madeline, my mother in all ways but one."

They do air kisses, and Tristan sends Sabina a look with a smile, mouthing, "Happy?"

She pulls her face together in disgust and turns to her father while Madeline gushes over her boyfriend.

Allan is grinning, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "He's one of the good ones, sweetheart."

"Why do you think I keep him around, Dad?" Sabina answers sweetly, hugging his waist.

Brunch is as pleasant as meeting-the-parents go—not that Tristan has any difficulty with being charming. Under the table, while he's talking to her parents about his home, he finds her knee and squeezes it. Sabina hooks her ankle with his and watches his jaw move while he talks and chews and smiles, finger itching to touch his face.

They're all finished with their meals and served wine and coffee when Allan asks, "You planning to change my daughter's mind on marriage, Tristan?"

"No," Sabina says.

"We'll see how that goes," answers Tristan, chuckling and shaking his head. He looks at his girlfriend. "I think we're both not ready for anything like that yet. Also, I'm raising my brother's kid, my nephew, so that's another thing to consider, too. Sabina doesn't...well, she doesn't like kids."

Sabina's glad he's talking about it like it's normal—like he doesn't have to hide anything from her anymore or from anyone else. It's fact. It's reality.

"I like Brandon," she interjects, shrugging. "He's cute and smart. He looks like you."

Tristan only chuckles again. "Yeah, uh, we've only been together a short time, so no marriage thoughts here."

"None at all," says Sabina, meeting her dad's eyes.

Madeline puts down her wine glass, blinking. "Oh, how old is Brandon?"

Tristan smiles. "He's seven. Wants to be a lawyer like his dad was."

Allan leans forward. "And how's that going, son? Working and raising a kid on your own?"

"You did that on your own, too," Sabina says, taking a sip of her wine, nails clicking on the glass. "But thankfully Grandma and Grandpa helped."

Tristan squeezes her knee again. "Yeah, uh, I have help too. My sister, and I have a babysitter. It's not so bad, I love the kid, I'd do anything for him."

Madeline nods like she knows. "That's your instinct as a parent, Tristan. I can tell you're a really good one already. Brandon is lucky to have you."

Sabina's boyfriend bows his head. "Thank you."

She won't ask him about his rapid blinking later, or his fingers squeezing her flesh so tight. Sabina grabs his hand and interlaces their fingers together, and she presses a kiss to his knuckles.

And Madeline is right—Sabina knows Brandon is lucky he has Tristan. He has an uncle who gives him rollercoaster rides on his shoulders, zooming around the kitchen, while he laughs and giggles to the top of his small, small lungs. He has an uncle who cuts his sandwiches into little fish because he likes it. Brandon has an uncle willing to sit through hours and hours of the same show playing on TV—and dances to the songs with him, too, while they eat blueberries.

Sabina is having coffee on their counter on a Saturday when she figures out she doesn't need Tristan. She doesn't want to need Tristan. Brandon—it's Brandon who needs him.

"Hey," he says, panting, running a hand through his hair and plopping on the seat next to her. "Sorry, I know it's kind of loud and annoying."

Sabina watches Brandon dance on the carpet. It brings a smile to her face. "It's not loud. It's happy—there's a difference. And you're good with him, you're so good with him," she says quietly, not taking her eyes off the little human. "He adores you."

"Now," Tristan says, pouring himself his own coffee. "And then he'll grow up, get into his teenage phase, won't want to tell me anything, forget about me."

She rolls her eyes. "Stop being dramatic."

"It's what happens when you have a kid," Tristan says, shrugging. He's watching Brandon, too. "Maybe he'll hate me for what happened to his mom and dad, who knows?"

Sabina twists her head to look at him. Tristan's still focused on his child. "What do you mean?"

He takes a sip of his coffee before he answers, "Grayson and Jules were driving here to see me—they were going to drop Brandon off and then head to their anniversary vacation because I offered to watch him." He looks at her and smiles. "We were going to get lunch first, but they never made it to the restaurant."

Sabina's face is blank, but she hears her chest crack. "It wasn't your fault, Tristan."

"Brandon might not see it that way." He's still smiling, but he turns to his kid to call, "Brand, you want lunch now?"

"I object!" the kid yells, grabbing another blueberry with his grabby and chubby hands, jumping on his feet.

A laugh escapes Sabina's lips. "What?"

Tristan laughs and shakes his head. "He says that instead of saying no so he can sound more like his father. You hungry?"

Sabina nods, but she leaves the coffee on the table and wraps her arms around his waist, laying her head on his broad back. Tristan takes a deep breath, and Sabina takes one, too. "Hey. You know you're doing your best, right?"

Tristan's hands go down to cover hers. He leans his head back and sighs. "Yeah."

"Hug!" Brandon suddenly yells, running over. "I want a hug, too!"

"No. Your Papa's mine," Sabina says, pulling Tristan with her.

Brandon shouts, and Tristan laughs, and Sabina drags him around, sidestepping the toys, until the kid catches up to them and crawls over Sabina and Tristan on the floor.

Brandon cups Sabina's cheeks with an angry frown. "We share Papa."

"Share? I don't like sharing," Sabina says, grinning, putting her hands under his armpits to hug him.

"Papa says sharing is good," he mutters, playing with her hair.

"Your Papa's right. Fine, we can share him," Sabina says, rubbing her hand down his back. Tristan looks at her, heavily breathing from laughing and running, and he surges forward to kiss her on the lips. Sabina pushes him. "There's a kid here, Tristan!"

"Sorry," he says sheepishly, raising his palms. His eyes twinkle.

And then they get to lunch (Sabina helps the boys dutifully), and Brandon eats all his vegetables so he can get candy afterwards his nap, and when he's out, hugging his bear, Tristan brings Sabina to his room.

It's only the size of her bathroom. There's a single bed pushed up against the wall, one cabinet for a dresser, a desk, and a chair with dirty clothes hanging on it. There's a television and a bookcase.

Sabina sits on his bed and asks him, "This is where you have dirty dreams about me?"

Tristan grins and sits next to her, cupping the back of her neck to press their mouths together. Sabina sinks into him, wrapping her leg around his waist, straddling him, running her hands under his shirt. "Mm, yeah," he mutters, moving to her neck, hands gripping her bottom. "You're good with Brandon," he breathes, cupping her chin to kiss her again.

"Don't talk about the child while we're making out," she says, gripping his hair.

Tristan smiles into her mouth, hand moving up to palm her neck, thumb caressing her throat.

They only have time for a quick getting-off, quiet with only their breaths falling into each other, and fast but intense and careful, because Tristan's kid can wake up any time.

She never imagined she'd be having to suppress her moans for a child. Her boyfriend's child.

Tristan groans and rolls off of her, putting his arm over his eyes, breathing heavily. Sabina catches her breath and swings her leg over his. Sighing, she says, "I think you're a hot daddy."

A loud laugh escapes his chest. "What?"

"I bet all the teachers and the single parents in Brandon's school call you that," Sabina mutters, rolling her eyes. "Even the wedded ones. That's your fault."

"That I'm hot?" he scoffs incredulously.

Sabina nods. "This," she says, circling her finger around his face, and dragging it down to his chest, torso, waist, legs—"is mine."

Tristan captures her finger and pulls her to him, pecking her on the lips. "You're embarrassing," he whispers.

"I hate you."

"Nah, you don't."

Sabina narrows her eyes. She puts on her underwear again and stands, smoothening her hair in the mirror. She finds Tristan's shirt on the floor and puts it on, and the books on his shelf catch her eye. She groans. "And now you're moving companies, too. You hear back from South Bend Press? I'm gonna have to worry about your new boss."

Tristan sits up on his elbows and runs a hand through his blonde hair. "Ah, I'm just waiting for an interview. And stop scaring my new boss, I haven't gotten the job yet."

Sabina exhales heavily and crosses her arms. "Don't you dare sleep with her."

"I'm not crazy, Sabina," Tristan says. Then his eyes soften, and he stands, circling his arms around Sabina's waist as he stands behind her, bending his head to kiss her temple. "And I'm not a cheater, or a liar, or an asshole. And it wasn't because you were my boss that I agreed to sleep with you. I hope you know that it was because of your unpleasant personality."

Sabina smacks his butt and glares at him in the mirror, furrowing her eyebrows. Tristan's smiling, running his hands down her arms. "That's not funny."

"And you don't need me to reassure you, honey," Tristan murmurs, hands creeping down to run his fingers along her underwear. "You already know you're beautiful, smart, confident, hardworking, and kind. To me and your family, at least. And to Brandon." He sighs heavily at the name of his kid.

Sabina turns around and wraps her arms around his neck, looking up at him. "It's nice to hear you say why you like me sometimes. Now that's embarrassing."

His smile widens and he leans down for a kiss, squeezing her bottom.

"Tris?" a loud voice calls. Keys jangle from the hallway. "Brandon?"

"Crap." Tristan shuts his eyes and pulls away. "It's Ian."

Sabina blinks. "Yeah, she's supposed to be watching Brandon, right? We're going to our fundraiser thingy."

He opens his closet and puts on a shirt hurriedly. "She's early. I thought we'd be ready to go when she got here." He cups Sabina's cheek and plants one on her. "I'm sorry in advance," he mutters apologetically, and then he opens the door and steps out.

Sabina's confused, but she follows after him, not bothering to put on her pants.

"Ah, there you are, I thought you left the kid alone," Ian's voice says as Sabina and Tristan wander into the kitchen. Her back is turned, opening the cupboards for a mug. Her shoes are kicked off in the hallway and her bag is dumped on the floor. Sabina leans against the doorway and wrinkles her nose at the mess. "I got off surgery early and I have the rest of the day off, thought I'd bring Brand to the movies. Before, uh, you know, you ditch him for your prissy girlfriend."

Ah. Tristan looks at her and purses his lips. Sabina smiles and crosses her arms over her chest. "Prissy, huh?"

The brunette only turns around when she finds the orange mug she's looking for. She's in a large shirt with a band's name on it, tucked in ripped jeans, and she smiles at Sabina, brushing her bangs away. "Tristan didn't say you were coming over. Before you guys get together again tonight."

"It's his unit," Sabina says. "I don't know why he has to tell you."

Tristan sighs loudly and brings a hand to his forehead. "Okay, enough. And tonight's not for Sabina, Ian. It's for work. And I'm not ditching Brandon, I just spent the weekend with him."

Ian shrugs, pouring coffee in her mug. "You ditched him last Halloween." Her piercing light eyes cut to Sabina, and she tells her, "He went as Captain America."

Sabina's composure falters. Tristan's jaw tightens. "You gonna keep fighting me about that or are you gonna wake him up so you can catch that movie?"

Ian grins again and winks at him. "You didn't wake him when you were doing the dirty right next door, brother?"

"Ian," Tristan snaps.

She raises his palms and grabs her coffee, moving away from the kitchen. "Alright, alright. Take a chill pill." When she brushes past Sabina, she whispers, "Good to see you again, Sabina. But please, around the child, let's put some pants on, hm?"

And then she turns towards Brandon's door and closes the door gently.

Sabina's eye twitches.

Tristan faces her. There's an exasperated look on his face, and he sinks down on a stool. "I'm so sorry."

"You ditched Brandon on Halloween?" Sabina asks, furrowing her eyebrows. "You didn't tell me!"

"I didn't ditch him," Tristan says, exhaling heavily. "I just told him I had other plans. And I bought his costume with him, the candy, and we stitched his mask together. We carved pumpkins, for Christ's sake. Right before the actual day." He pauses, shaking his head. "And then Ian took him trick-or-treating."

Sabina's eyes widen. "You could've told me you couldn't make it."

"You said Halloween was important to you."

"Not important enough for you to miss out on your kid's!" Sabina throws her hands up in the air. "You only have, what, five or six more of those until he runs off with his friends and doesn't want to wear stupid costumes anymore, or go trick-or-treating with you. You should've been with him, Tristan."

He stares at her. "Okay, yeah," he mutters, looking away. "Yeah, you're right."

Somehow, Sabina's intentions got lost in translation. She sighs, steps closer to him, and cups his chin to turn his face toward hers. "Hey," she whispers, looping her arms around his neck when he finally meets his gaze, lips turned downward. "I'm not saying I'm not happy because you spent it with me. I was, I am. And I know you took it seriously because it was important to me. And I'm not trying to judge you on the choices you make as a parent, Tristan. But I don't want to be in the way of anything that would cause a strain between you and Brandon. Or between you and your devil's spawn sister."

His mouth twitches. One of his hands come to her waist, stroking her skin under his shirt she's wearing. "Ian just loves Brandon."

"She called me prissy."

"Well." A pinch appears in between his eyebrows. "You are."

Sabina rolls her eyes. "Maybe I should just go to this fundraiser by myself. I can call Denver."

"No," Tristan says immediately, shaking his head. His hair falls on his eyes and Sabina reaches out to brush them away. "I don't want you to coddle me about work-related matters because of Brandon. Right now is a me and you thing. Tonight is a work thing. I need to be there."

Sabina sighs. She puts a hand on the nape of his neck, pushes it toward her shoulder and presses a kiss to his hair. "Okay."

"Put on some pants," he mutters, kissing her neck in return and squeezing her bottom.

"Fine."

It should've been as easy as that. Sabina doesn't need Tristan. It's Brandon who needs him.

Over a busy week at The Fit, Sabina has to stay back in the office to finish some of her backlogs, and she was planning to head to the warehouse to check on the production of the company's merchandise line. Because this wasn't scheduled, Tristan knows nothing about it.

It's why he comes in her office at five and says, "Come on, Kyle. Time to go home."

Sabina raises her head and leans back against her chair, smiling at him. "I have to finish just a couple of these reports to send to Elyse."

His eyebrow raises. "You need me to stay?"

That is the opposite of what Sabina's trying to do. She shakes her head. "Nah, I'll be done in an hour or so. You go."

Her boyfriend looks skeptical. "No, I think I should—"

"Bishop," Sabina says sternly, glaring at him. "Go away. I'll see you tomorrow. C'mere and give me a kiss."

The corner of his lips curl upwards, and he takes the steps towards her desk, shaking his head. "People might see us," he whispers.

Sabina grabs his tie and pulls him down to her level. "Just a quick one," she whispers back, pressing her mouth to his. Tristan smiles, and Sabina smacks him on the shoulder.

It's longer than a quick one, but eventually, Sabina lets him go. Tristan finally goes, too, and she looks at the clock. It's only ten past five—he'll make it to Brandon's school early.

Satisfied, Sabina smiles to herself and gets back to work.

On Sunday night with her friends, she gets a text from him. you at home? What are you up to?

Sabina leaves that on read and hisses at the sudden pain on her forehead. "Adrian," she hisses, closing her eyes. "Try not to kill me, Christ."

"Try not to kill me," MJ bites back, glaring at her. Sabina's nails dig into her arm. "You're cutting off my damn circulation. And be quiet."

Adrian's smiling when he says, "You'd be a horrible patient, Sabina."

"Do you still feel dizzy?" Andy asks in a small voice, biting her lip. She's standing near the bathroom, fiddling with her hands, and her eyes are big and worried and regretful. "I am so so sorry, Sab, I didn't realize I spilled my drink, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."

Sabina slipped, hit her head, almost bled out. Adrian's stitching her up now. It's good to have a doctor—somewhat—in the friend group.

Jenner chuckles and smooths his hand down Sabina's back. "Stop worrying, sweetheart. Sabina's fine."

"I can speak, thanks," Sabina snaps. "And it's fine, kid, it's not your fault—ow! Flynn!"

"Sorry," Adrian mutters, concentrated.

"Drama queen," Rhysand mutters. Sabina flips him off.

Andy smacks his waist and glares at him. "Baby."

"Where's your boyfriend, anyway?" Rhysand scowls. "Where's your stupid phone? I'll call him."

"Dumbass," Sabina snaps, gripping onto MJ's arm again. "I already told you he can't make it, so don't call him."

"I think this is something he should know, babe," MJ snorts. "You've got a giant cut."

"So? I'm not dying."

Rhysand makes a frustrated noise. "I'd want to know if Andrea got her skull bashed open."

Sabina mimics the noise he made. "He's busy. And who's the drama queen now?"

Adrian finally moves back and smiles triumphantly at his handiwork. "There. All done."

Jenner puts a hand on her waist. "Wanna try and stand up?"

She's not feeling dizzy anymore, but MJ drives her home and puts her to bed just in case. She pulls up the covers on Sabina's body and shakes her head. "Tristan really can't make it? Or was that an excuse because you didn't want to bother him while he's with his child?"

Sabina pushes her away and turns over. "Go. Contemplate on your issues about marriage."

MJ snorts. She smacks Sabina's butt over the sheets and leans over to turn off the lamp. "Call me if you need anything. And tell him, okay?"

Sabina makes a noncommittal sound and reaches for her phone. MJ shows herself out.

There are a few other texts from Tristan:

Kyle?

Well, I guess you're resting now. Denver said you didn't have anything planned

Brand and I are on our second disney movie and he's sleepy but he doesn't want to admit it. Look at him he's so cute

[Attachment: 2 photos].

He says he misses you lol but I'm going to have to say that I miss you more. You miss me more, right?

Sleep well, okay?

Sabina sighs. She opens the pictures and smiles. Brandon's in green striped pajamas, hugging his bear, eyes drooping. His little face and little body look even smaller beside Tristan's large frame. She types her reply. Sorry honey i just got home from Andy's place. Resting now. go rest too, I'll see you tomorrow

His reply is instant. Oh you were with your friends?

yup. goodnight, goodnight to brand too

The three dancing bubbles appear. And then they disappear, and they appear again. Okay, goodnight baby.

Tristan's face the next morning is of incredulous anger and shock. He almost drops her coffee at the wound dressing on her forehead. "What the hell happened to you?"

Sabina grabs her cup before he spills it. "Good morning." She smiles brightly at him and kisses his cheek. "I just fell, not a big deal."

"Not a—" He scoffs, raising his eyebrows. "You have stitches, Sabina. What happened?"

"Yeah, I know, I was there." Sabina takes a sip of her coffee. "I just slipped and hurt my head. Not a big deal, babe. Come on, we're going to be late for work."

After making sure she's fine, Tristan sighs, kisses her forehead, and tells her to be careful next time.

On Friday, Sabina celebrates—she just landed a major role in one of the runways she's doing next month, and her friends leave just as Tristan arrives with a bouquet of flowers. He's late because he waited for June to take over watching Brandon, but Sabina understands. She's just happy he's here now. "Hey, congratulations."

She takes the flowers, smiling. "I'll get you front row seats."

He grins and puts his hands on her cheeks, lowering his head. "I'll be cheering the loudest."

Sabina drags him to bed, bringing their wine glasses with her, and she pushes him against the headboard and breathes in his ear, and Tristan grips her hips and groans in her mouth.

She slumps down on his chest, happily sated. "Wow."

"We should celebrate more," he mutters lazily, panting, running a hand through his messed-up hair.

Sabina laughs and brushes her thumb on his jaw, giving him a sweet kiss. "Stay the night and we can."

He scoffs out a laugh, leaning back against the headboard. "I'd love to, but I have to go back for Brand. It's late for June and Ian's on call."

Damn it. Sabina sighs. "Yeah. He'll throw a fit tomorrow if you don't come home before he's asleep."

Tristan hums. He twirls a piece of her hair in his finger, and he asks quietly, "You don't wanna stay over at mine?"

She's thought about it before.

But, see—Sabina's home is hers alone. It's her space, her things, furniture, clothes, rug, blender. Occasionally, Tristan will leave his jacket, his tie, his cologne. But still, it's Sabina's home.

Tristan shares his with his son. And if she starts staying over, she'll leave her own things—lipstick, toothbrush, charger—and then Brandon will get used to her, and Sabina will get used to him, and she doesn't want that. Brandon's a sweet kid, but Sabina doesn't want that.

She shakes her head and stares at him, cupping the nape of his neck and threading her fingers in his hair. "Your bed's too small, honey."

He stares back at her, mouth twitching. "I can't argue with that."

When Tristan leaves, Sabina tells him to kiss Brandon for her.

It's fine skipping dinner right after work, missing his body and warmth at night, and having to wrestle for his time outside of work. Sabina has no choice but to understand it.

She at least thought Tristan would understand, too. He's the father, for fuck's sake.

She gets a call while having lunch with Andy, just after her stitches get removed. Her agency was furious for setting back photoshoots because of her cut, and now that she's back on schedule, this is the only time she'll see Andy before she and Rhysand disappear to Parkway to spend Christmas with Trey.

Andy's stabbing her food a little too hard. Sabina chews her food slowly and raises one eyebrow. "You, uh, okay there?"

The younger shakes her head. "I'm just frustrated."

Sabina blinks. "Uh, about your animal charity thing? Look, I know it's difficult juggling your commitments around, huge commitments, by the way, but you'll get used to it, Andy, and if it's something you're passionate about—"

She raises her head, bottom lip jutting out. Sabina's scared she'll start crying. "No, it's not that. I mean, it's partly that. I love the animal shelter I'm building, and Rhys has been supportive, you know? It's just..." Andy takes a deep breath and laughs once. "We had a small misunderstanding last night. I asked about kids and he shut it down. He said we were both too busy right now, and I had teaching, the bakery, and now, the shelter, too. He's traveling to meet clients a lot, and it's..." She sighs again, and her shoulders slump. "He said not right now."

Sabina bites her lip. "Maybe he's right, hon."

"I know that." Her voice breaks a little. "But I really, really want one. I see kids every day at the school and they run up to their parents and I want my kid to do that to me and Rhysand, too. I know he's being reasonable. It's just hard to wait. I have to get the shelter running and full of employees first, and actually manage my time and schedule at the bakeshop before I can think about taking care of a child."

Sabina's mind drifts to Tristan. He didn't have time to think about all of that before Brandon. He didn't have a choice. He resigned from the company, took care of him, and—and Sabina doesn't know how he planned on making ends meet or on taking care of Brandon and himself without a job, and if she hadn't cut his work hours and increased his salary...Sabina shudders. She doesn't want to think about that—him, worrying. Crying. Feeling like the world was on his shoulders.

She sighs and puts down her fork to call on a waiter. She asks for two glasses of wine.

"It'll all work out, Andy," she tells her gently, grasping her hand. "You and Rhysand will have your kid."

Her eyes shine, and she smiles. "Yeah. Yeah, we will. Uh, how's that going, by the way? Tristan's kid?"

Sabina doesn't want to talk about it, so she shrugs and says, "Good. He's cute and smart for his age. I promised Tristan I'd get to know him and I did."

Andy raises an eyebrow. "What, that's it?"

Sabina stares at her. "Yeah. That's it."

"I mean, are you not going to spend time with him?"

Sabina's face scrunches together. "No. He's not mine. And I don't intend on bonding with him just to...I don't know, leave somewhere down the line. He'll get crushed."

Her friend nods. "Well, that's valid. He's not your responsibility."

Sabina takes a sip of her wine and hums. "Yeah. He's not."

It's then that her phone rings loudly with an unknown number. She draws her eyebrows together and picks up. Andy's staring at her. "Hello?"

"Hi Sabina," a familiar voice says, and Sabina's whole body ignites with fire and anger. "Can we talk?"

She hangs up.

Andy raises an eyebrow, blinking. "Who was that?"

Sabina picks up her glass and drinks her wine slowly. "Heath."

Andy blinks rapidly. "Married asshole? Your scandal?"

Sabina takes her phone and blocks the number. "The one and only. Come on, I'll help you and Rhys pack. Check, please!"

She finds herself that night, after work and after Andy and Rhysand left, at Jenner's house. He tosses her a pack of cigarettes, smiling boyishly, and sits beside her on the sofa. "You don't wanna know what the bastard wanted to say?"

"No, and I'm not here to talk about him," Sabina mutters, hanging her head back as she downs her bottle, and she opens the pack of cigarettes. "I'm here because I miss you and I miss hanging out."

Jenner's laugh is loud. "Or because Andy is gone and MJ is busy."

"You know your place." They clink bottles. Sabina smiles at him. "Not seeing anyone, still?"

He shakes his head, still grinning, and stretches his legs on the coffee table. "You think this house would be empty if I were?"

"Fling, then."

"After you? Nah." He tips his head back and drinks again. "It was so easy with you. Can't find anyone who'd want to fuck me and be friends with me." Jenner turns his head, slumping on the cushion, and puts on his best charming smile. "It was good with you, Sab."

Sabina lights her stick and crosses her legs. "'Course it was. And yeah, I remember how easy it was with you, too."

She almost says I miss it, but she bites her tongue.

She doesn't. Does she?

Sabina inhales the smoke, closing her eyes, and blows it out slowly. She hasn't done this in so long, but it feels good. She can sympathize with Rhysand when it took him years to finally quit. "D'you think he wanted to apologize?" she slurs, glancing at him.

Jenner shrugs. "If he did, it'd just be to ease his guilt. Not for you."

Sabina appreciates Jenner's honesty. It's one of the things she loves about him. She takes a deep breath and puts the stick in her mouth again. "He almost cost me my career."

"I know, sweetheart." Jenner puts an arm around her and rubs her shoulder soothingly. "I know." Then, quietly, he teases, "You should've just come to me. I'm not married."

Sabina regrets that she didn't. Jenner's her friend—she should've gone to him when Tristan left. She shouldn't have tried to pick someone up from the club like an idiot and sleep with the asshole numerous times, too, before finding out he was married. Like an idiot. Jenner was right there.

Sabina drops her head on his shoulder. "Yeah. I should've."

"Why didn't you?"

Sabina doesn't have an answer to that. She reaches up and puts the stick in his mouth. Jenner closes his lips around it. "I don't know. I was angry and hurt Tristan left, and I knew you would ask me about it, and I didn't want you to, and I was already at the club. The bastard knew what he was doing when he was dancing."

Jenner sighs. A puff of smoke comes out from his mouth. "Well, at least that's over. That's over, Sab. You have Tristan now."

Does she? Sabina shakes her head and hugs herself. "Yeah."

"He's what you wanted, right?"

"Want. Yes." Sabina sits up and rubs her eyes, shoving her hand inside her bag. She squints at the time and the several notifications greeting her. "Crap, it's one already?"

Jenner grins. "Already? Has Tristan turned you weak, Sabina Kyle?"

She smiles and rolls her eyes, opening the texts. "Shut up."

Hey, did you have dinner already? Brand and I are making pizza if you want some ;)

I'll come over with some slices once Brand's asleep. What're you up to darling

Kyle. Where are you? I'm at your apartment and you're not here. Call me right now I'm freaking out

Denver said you went to Jenner's. Have fun

It's midnight and you told Denver and Stan to go home? what the fuck Sabina

Call me before you leave Jenner's house.

"Crap," Sabina mutters, exhaling heavily. She calls him.

Tristan picks up in one ring. "Hey," he says.

Sabina knows he's pissed. "Hi. Sorry, my phone was in my bag and I haven't been checking."

"Clearly," he says.

Sabina rubs her forehead. "Tristan."

"I didn't know where you were, I thought you were safe at home," he starts calmly, but there's already an edge to it that Sabina recognizes. "And it was Denver who had to tell me that you went out, and it was also Denver who had to tell me you were hanging out with your ex-fucktoy, and it was also Denver who had to tell me you were left unprotected with no ride. Do you think I'm dating Denver?"

It's not funny, but Sabina giggles.

Tristan snaps, "Are you fucking drunk right now?"

Sabina sits on the floor. "Tipsy. And Jenner's a friend."

"That's—" he huffs out an incredulous laugh. "That's what you focus on? That Jenner's a friend? You didn't tell me where you were," Tristan bites out. "Actually, you never tell me where you are."

"Why do I even have to?" Sabina snaps back. "I need my space, Tristan. I need to be alone sometimes or else this won't work, I don't have to tell you where I am every second of every day, Jesus."

"That would be fine if I'm not constantly worrying about your fucking safety," Tristan seethes. "Or worrying about finding you in your ex-fucktoy's house."

"Fine. You wanna know why I'm here? Asshat Heath called me and I wanted a friend to drink and smoke with," Sabina spits bitterly. "I can't even call you because you can't spend more than a few hours with me outside work—I didn't want to waste them getting drunk."

"That's another thing you couldn't tell me about?" He whispers. "I'm your partner, what can I know if you don't tell me anything? You didn't think that mentioning Heath was important?"

"It's not."

"Fine," he says. "How were you planning to go home by yourself? You're drunk. You were planning to sleep there? In your ex-fucktoy's house?"

"Stop calling him that."

"That's what he is." He lets out an exasperated sigh. "God, you don't even have your car."

"I don't need you to take care of me," Sabina hisses. "I don't need you, period."

"I don't need you to need me, Sabina," Tristan fires back, voice stable and firm. Sure. "I need you to want me. I need you to make an effort to show me you want me. Do you?"

"Yes!" Sabina shouts, throwing her hands up in the air. "Yes, you asshole, of course I want you, this is not even about that."

"Even though I have Brandon?"

Sabina closes her mouth. Her eyebrows furrow. "What do you mean?"

"You just said you couldn't call me because I can't spend more than a few hours with you," he says. "Because of Brandon."

Sabina shuts her eyes and puts a hand to her forehead. "Tristan..."

"And you're acting out and distancing yourself because of Brandon, too." He pauses. Sabina's fingers scrape the carpet. "You don't think I've noticed?"

Sabina wishes he hadn't. "I want you," she whispers.

"I can't toss Brandon aside. I can't and I won't," Tristan says. "If you want me, come to terms with that, Sabina. I can live with that if you can, because I want you, too."

She can't not be in Brandon's life if she wants Tristan. That's what he's saying.

Heart sinking, she whispers, "Okay."

Tristan exhales. "Okay?"

"Mm." Sabina wipes a tear that falls down her face and stands up. "Is Brand asleep?"

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Yeah, I put him down a few hours ago."

"Can I come over?" she asks quietly, biting her nails. "I wanna see you."

Tristan doesn't miss a beat. "You'll call a cab?"

He can't pick her up. He can't leave Brandon alone and drive so far away.

"Jenner's driving me, he's not drunk." She pauses. "If...that's okay. It's safer."

"I agree." He sighs. "Text me when you're on the way. Be safe."

Sabina nods. "Okay."

Jenner's already holding his keys when she puts the phone down. He hands her a glass of water. "Drink this and then we'll go."

When Tristan opens the door, Sabina wraps her arms around his waist and inhales shakily, basking in his scent. Tristan wraps his own around her, too.

"Hey," he whispers in her hair.

"Hi." Sabina presses a kiss to his neck. His pulse is racing, and he smells glorious. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too." He rubs his hands down her back. Sabina hugs him tighter. "I'm sorry. I...I know this is hard and complicated, and—and too much work."

Sabina's not a monster, but sometimes, she can be. Earlier, with Jenner—thinking she misses easy. Now—Tristan apologizing to her for having a child to raise.

"Don't apologize," she murmurs miserably, shaking her head. "No, don't. Just." She takes a deep breath and jumps up, wrapping her legs around him, like hugging him with her arms wasn't enough. Tristan's hands fly under her thighs to keep her up, and he presses his back against the wall. "I'll try," she finally says, shutting her eyes. "I'll—I'll try."

Tristan tucks her head into his chest. "Thank you," he whispers.

She kisses him, and his lips taste like tears.

*

The bed is too small, but having Tristan beside her makes up for it.