Page 130 of Fixing to Be Mine

Skye flinches, but she doesn’t step back. She stands there with her hands folded neatly in front of her, like she’s here to apologize for being five minutes late to brunch, not for helping detonate my entire life.

“I needed to see you,” she says.

“You don’t get to want things from me anymore.”

She saw my kindness as weakness, and I will no longer tolerate her disrespect.

Her mouth opens, closes, and I’ve never seen her stunned and silent. For a woman who’s always had a performance ready, she’s finally out of rehearsed lines.

“Can I at least come in?” she asks.

I want Colt to see the person who betrayed me, so I happily stand aside, ready to bring this conversation to a place where there is a witness so she can’t twist my words or hers. She walks in like she has a thousand times before. Her heels click softly against the floor.

His brows pinch together, but he doesn’t say anything.

Skye turns to face me, hands clenched now, her knuckles white. “Who is he?”

The question lands like a scratch in the middle of a record.

“He’s mine,” I state. “Not taking that one from me too.”

She glances toward Colt, and he watches me like she doesn’t matter.

“So, that’s it? He made you like this?” There’s an accusatory tone in her voice.

“No,” I say. “You can thank yourself for that.”

She blinks at me, like she wants to protest, but nothing comes out.

I stare at her. “How long were you sleeping with Donovan?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.

The heat rises in my chest again because she still doesn’t get it.

“Now you’re going to deflect?” I ask, my voice colder now. “I saw you two together. You have no idea what that did to me. Not because I lost Donovan, but because I lost you.”

Skye staggers back a half step, and her face crumples, but I don’t soften. I can’t. Not now.

“I could never have imagined you would do something to me like that. I trusted you, Skye.”

Tears slide down her cheeks now, but I don’t care.

“I would’ve burned the world down for you,” I say, quieter now, but no less fierce. “I protected you from everything—our parents, the press, your own messes. And when I needed you most, you were stabbing me in the back. Had I not found you two, I’d have gone through with that and then been a third wheel in my marriage. That’s not okay.”

“I didn’t know how to stop it,” she confesses.

“No, you just didn’t want to. You’ve always been selfish.”

She glances down at the floor like it might give her a place to disappear. “I can’t change what happened,” she says.

“I agree.”

The truth hangs in the air.

She wipes away her tears. “Dad fired me—because of you.”

I shake my head. “When you’re ready to grow up and take responsibility and apologize, call me. Until then, I cannot do this. You and Donovan were made for one another.”

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