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Chapter_30
Ronan’s gaze lingered on her, his expression softening slightly as he observed her flustered state. But then, as though catching himself, he pulled back into his usual composed demeanor. His voice was gentle but edged with the formality that had come to define him over the years. “Sadie… is it really you?”
The question hung in the air, and Sadie felt the familiar pang of longing stir within her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she stood there, breathless and disoriented, caught in a moment where time seemed to stretch unnaturally, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.
“I—I didn’t expect…” Sadie stammered, wiping the sweat from her brow and trying to regain some semblance of composure. “I’m just here to deliver breakfast for Mr. Clemens.” She held up the takeout bag a little too stiffly, as if the action could somehow distract from the chaotic whirlwind inside her head.
Ronan’s eyes flickered from the bag to her face. There was something unreadable in his gaze, but his posture was still formal, distant, almost as if he was trying to suppress any recognition of their past.
“Mr. Clemens, huh?” Ronan repeated, his tone slightly more subdued. “That explains… the rush.” His eyes briefly scanned her appearance—the disheveled hair, the tiredness that seeped into her every movement. He didn’t say it, but the look he gave her spoke volumes. What have they done to you?
Sadie felt a rush of emotions surge through her, but she bit them back, fighting the urge to break down in front of him. The pain of seeing him again after so many years was unbearable enough without having him see her in this demeaning situation. Micah’s words from earlier echoed in her head—Make sure to get it right next time. I don’t tolerate mistakes. Her throat tightened, and she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.
“I should go,” she said, trying to push past him, but her legs felt like jelly. She had barely recovered from climbing all those flights of stairs, and now, with Ronan so close, the exhaustion was catching up with her.
But Ronan didn’t let her go. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. “Sadie, wait.”
His touch was warm, familiar, and it sent a wave of confusion through her. She hadn’t expected this—his concern, his presence here, so unexpectedly close. The old emotions she had long buried began to surface, and it took everything she had not to crumble under the weight of them.
“Are you okay?” Ronan asked softly, his voice lower now, almost in a whisper, as if he were afraid someone might overhear.
Sadie shook her head slightly, too overwhelmed to answer directly. “I’m fine,” she said, forcing a strained smile. “Just… work. You know how it is.”
But Ronan wasn’t convinced. He studied her, his eyes narrowing in that familiar, assessing way that had always made her feel like he could see right through her. “You don’t look fine. You look like you’ve been running a marathon. This isn’t like you, Sadie.”
Sadie felt her heart drop. His words were a reminder of the person she used to be—the confident, happy woman who had walked beside him, someone he once cherished. And now, all she felt was this hollow version of herself, swallowed up by the unrelenting expectations of people like Micah.
“I’m just… trying to get by,” she muttered, her voice tinged with bitterness. She looked down at the food in her hands, as if that would somehow ground her in this moment. “Micah… Mr. Clemens, he… he gave me a task to do. I have to finish it.”
Ronan’s expression softened, but there was still a hint of frustration in his eyes. “I can see that. But Sadie, you shouldn’t be treated like this. You deserve better.”
The words hit her like a tidal wave. You deserve better. For a split second, she let herself believe them—let herself hope that perhaps, just maybe, someone still saw her as more than the invisible, beaten-down version of herself she had become under Micah’s rule.
But reality quickly came crashing back. She could hear Andrew’s voice in her mind, the warning in his tone—Scrub toilets if you don’t get this right. And Micah, always so distant and cold. He had made it clear that she meant nothing to him anymore.
“I’m fine, Ronan,” she said, her voice now flat, the weight of the words dragging her down. “Just… I need to finish this, okay?”
She stepped away from his hand, careful not to let him see the tears that threatened to break free. She couldn’t let him see her like this—not now. Not when everything was so broken.
Ronan watched her retreat, a mixture of concern and sadness on his face. But he didn’t stop her this time. He just stood there, as she walked away, feeling like a ghost of the woman she once was.
