Page 69 of Don't Puck Your Best Friend’s Girl

Great. They're both chasing after me, and this feels like a sick sign from the universe.Bitch, you wanted attention? Here you go.

"Saylor, wait," Byron calls, voice cracking. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Please, God, I'm so sorry."

Before I can respond, I glance at Cade, his face a battlefield of red marks and swelling. His left eye is already darkening, his bottom lip split and bleeding freely. He stands taller than Byron despite the beating he's taken, an imposing presence even in his injured state.

I press myself against the wall, suddenly feeling trapped. This isn't real. Can't be real. These two men — best friends until I came between them — standing before me with blood on their faces, in their clothes, demanding... what? Forgiveness? Explanations? Decisions?

My throat constricts, chest tightening with panic. I want to run. Need to run. This version of reality — this nightmare I've constructed with my lies and my desires — is too much to bear.

"Get back in your house," Cade says to Byron, his voice deadly quiet. "Now."

"Fuck off," Byron responds without looking at him, attention fixed solely on me. "Saylor, please. Come back inside. Let me help clean you up. We can talk—"

"Talk?" Cade interrupts with a harsh laugh. "Think you had enough talking before I arrived."

"This is none of your business," Byron snaps, finally turning to face him.

"She's my business," Cade says, the simple declaration sending a shiver down my spine despite everything.

"Stop it," I manage, my voice raw from crying. "Both of you, just stop."

Their argument halts abruptly, both turning to face me. The contrast is striking — Byron's expression open, pleading, desperate; Cade's controlled, intense, his eyes communicating a clear message: Tell him. Tell him the truth. Now.

My lip throbs painfully as I gather myself, the physical pain nothing compared to the emotional devastation I'm about to inflict.

"I came here tonight to apologize," I tell Byron, each word careful, measured. "For everything that happened between us. For how it ended."

Byron nods, a flicker of hope in his eyes that tears at my heart. "I know. And I meant everything I said. We can fix this, Say. Start over."

Fresh tears spill over, impossibly hot against my cold cheeks. "Thank you for acknowledging all the things that bothered me in our relationship. It means more than you know to finally feel heard."

I take a shaking breath, steeling myself for the final blow. "But it's too late, Byron. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

The hope in his eyes dims, replaced by a dawning realization. He glances at Cade, then back to me, the pieces finally clicking into place.

"It's him, isn't it?" he asks quietly. "You and this… fuck."

I can't speak, can only nod, the smallest movement serving as the final nail in the coffin of what we once were.

Cade stands silently, his expression unreadable save for the faintest suggestion of satisfaction around his eyes. He doesn't gloat, doesn't move to claim me physically, but his presence speaks volumes. This is what he wanted — the truth, laid bare, no more secrets.

"I can't believe this shit. You let me believe I had a chance."

"I didn't mean to," I whisper, the excuse sounding pathetic. "I just wanted closure. Wanted to apologize properly."

"By lying to me?" The betrayal in his eyes is unbearable. "By pretending everything is fucking fine ten minutes ago, and then…" He jerks his head toward Cade.

"I'm sorry," I repeat, the words so inadequate against the magnitude of the pain I've caused. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

Byron stares at me. "This is fucking bullshit!" He turns to leave and then he says to Cade, "I never want to see you again."

"I should go," I whisper, unable to bear another second of this confrontation.

"Saylor—" Cade starts, taking a step toward me.

"No." I back away, hand raised to ward him off. "I need to be alone."

Without waiting for a response, I turn and continue down the sidewalk, half-expecting one or both of them to follow. But no footsteps echo behind me this time. No voices call my name.

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