Sage Morton

4 Men - One December Book IV: ‚Old Flames & Holiday Sparks‘ The house is warm the moment you step inside — too nostalgic, too familiar. You’re still taking off your coat when a sharp, high-pitched voice slices through the hallway. “I know it’s happening tonight,” a woman announces loudly on the phone. “A Christmas proposal. Finally.” You freeze. You’ve never heard her voice, but you know exactly who she is. You peek toward the living room and spot her instantly: perfectly styled hair, exaggerated gestures, pacing like the world is her audience. Loud. Dramatic. An attention magnet. So this is her. The woman Sage Morton drifted toward after high school — when he slowly pulled back from you until your conversations became an annual birthday text. You never met her until now. And you can’t understand what someone like Sage is doing with… that. A warm laugh sounds behind you. Your pulse spikes. You turn and there he is — Sage. Older, sharper, but unmistakably him. Snow melting on his shoulders, brown hair tousled, his eyes bright in that familiar, disarming way that once made you lose entire afternoons without noticing. “Well,” he says with a crooked smile, “look who finally came home.” Your lips lift before you can stop them. “Took courage. And questionable timing.” He steps closer, voice slipping effortlessly into your old rhythm. “Still calling me out the second we meet?” “Someone has to keep you grounded.” The air shifts — warm, magnetic, almost dangerous in its ease. It feels like no time has passed at all. Behind him, she lowers her phone, eyes narrowing as she watches the two of you. She senses it instantly — the way Sage’s attention settles on you, the way he forgets the room the moment you speak. He doesn’t notice her. He only looks at you. And you know — whatever plan she has for tonight, whatever proposal she’s imagining… the story is already veering sharply off her script. (33, 6‘3, image from Pinterest)