CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
WEST
I’VE GOT THE KIDS IN THE BACK AND SKYLAR AT MY SIDE AS WE DRIVE HOME from soccer. We’re all wearing Sparkly Turquoise Unicorn hats. Skylar is laughing at one of Emmy’s dramatic game recaps, and I can see Oliver staring down at his book with a soft smile on his face through the rearview mirror.
And my life has never felt more complete.
All of us under one roof is going to feel the best. I’m itching to get home and make a big, over-the-top weekend breakfast—pancakes, hash browns, bacon, sausage, eggs. I should throw in some fruit, considering Skylar and I have been living on a diet of cheese and bread.
“So do you know when the wedding is?” Skylar asks. I told her the news about Rhys and Tabby earlier, and she keeps coming back to it like she can’t quite believe it’s true.
“No. But I think they might kill each other before they make it down the
aisle.”
“My money is on Tabby.”
I snort at that. She’s probably not wrong. “Would be a shame. I was kind of looking forward to taking you as my date.”
Her cheek twitches. “No. I will take you as my date. My ten-thousand- dollar date.”
When Ford’s name pops up on my truck’s Bluetooth screen, I don’t think twice about answering on speakerphone. My best friend calling me on the world’s best Saturday morning? Maybe he and Cora and Rosie will want to
meet for dinner.
“Hey, man. What’s up?”
I expect a casual tone in response, but his words turn the air in the truck glacial with their urgency.
“West, are you with Skylar? I’m trying to track her down. Her phone is going straight to voicemail.”
The motion of Skylar’s head whipping in my direction draws my attention to her. We both know she turned it off last night and hasn’t turned it back on. In fact, she’s so unattached to it now that I expect she left it somewhere at home.
“I’m here, Ford,” Skylar says, her voice taking on a detached sort of faraway tone.
“Yeah, you’re on speakerphone. She and the kids are in the car.”
Ford lets out a heavy breath. “Hey, Skylar. Are you guys heading back to the house? I’ll meet you there.”
My stomach constricts, and I’m sure Skylar is feeling much the same based on the way her teeth are now digging into her bottom lip. “Ford, is everything okay? Cora? Rosie?”
He waits a couple of beats as though weighing his next words. “Cora and Rosie are both totally fine. Everyone is safe. I’ll see you soon.”
Without another word, he hangs up, and all I hear is my heart thundering in my ears. An uncomfortable silence fills the cab, and I reach across the console to take Skylar’s cool, damp hand. Then I turn the music up and focus on the five-minute drive that takes us back to the house.
Ford is sitting on the front porch when we arrive, and I don’t miss the nervous look Skylar slides my way. We hop out, and so do the kids.
“Hey, Uncle Ford,” Emmy calls out and runs to him for a hug. He crouches a little to hug her back before offering Ollie a fist bump on his way past. Where Emmy seems oblivious to the tension in the air, Ollie is not. His shoulders are held taut, and I can see the tense set to his jaw.
“West. Skylar.” Ford nods in our direction. “Skylar, you got a sec?”
Her lips press together, and she nods. “Mm-hmm.”
When I tilt my head at Ford, he shakes his. He’s telling me to back off, and as much as my anxiety is off the charts right now, I decide to be respectful of that. “Okay, kiddos. Let’s go get breakfast started.”
I kiss Skylar’s cheek and whisper, “I love you,” into her ear before ushering my kids inside.
I sit them at the kitchen counter, where their backs are to the front window, so I can watch Skylar and Ford talk outside like the fucking
rubbernecker I am.
He gestures for her to sit down, but she waves him off and shakes her head. I watch my best friend almost wince as he rakes his hands through his hair. He always does that when he’s agitated. Then his lips move and I watch every fleck of color drain from Skylar’s face.
My heart lurches and my stomach twists. I’m dying to know what’s going on, but clearly Ford felt whatever this news is, it was best delivered one-on- one.
She looks my way through the glass, but her expression gives nothing away. When she turns back to Ford, her arms cross over her chest, and she shimmies her shoulders to make herself as tall as possible.
I mix the pancake batter for far too long as I watch them. Ollie is staring at his book, and Emmy is chattering away, but I don’t hear anything she says.
My heart is out on the porch with the woman I love, watching her throat work as she swallows and takes Ford’s phone from his hand.
She scrolls.
And she blinks.
Her tongue presses out into the side of her cheek.
Then she hands it back.
Ford is talking again now, but Skylar is standing stock-still. She looks like she’s in shock, and I fight the urge to rush out there. The only thing keeping me from acting unhinged over this woman right now is that my kids are sitting right in front of me, and if something is seriously wrong, I want to be able to prepare them.
But all my control flies out the window when I watch a sob rack Skylar’s body and her hands fly up over her face. I drop the whisk and jog past my kids, out the front door.
When Ford turns to face me, his mouth is set in a grim line. His usually
keen eyes are downright tortured.
“What the fuck is going on out here?”
My friend gives me a stern headshake as he rubs a soothing palm over Skylar’s back.
I stalk toward them, glaring at Ford. “What did you do to her —”
“West, now isn’t the moment for you to blow up.” He knows me well enough to know how I get when someone I care about is hurting. “I’m gonna go. If either of you needs anything, let me know. And, Skylar? I’m sparing no expense in figuring this out.”
Skylar nods and presses the heels of her hands into her eye sockets even harder. “Thank you, Ford.”
Ford shoots her a heartbroken glance before turning to leave, and I immediately pull Skylar into my arms. Her entire body shakes, and no matter how much I stroke her back or tell her it’s going to be okay, her breathing grows more and more frantic.
“I…I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.” Her feet shift frantically beneath her.
“Sky, you can. I know you can. Sky, baby, I’m gonna need you to take a long, slow breath in.”
Her head rolls against my chest, where she is still hiding behind her hands, and her breathing becomes more panicked.
“Okay. Okay,” I murmur as I lift her into my arms and carry her over to the porch swing. Holding her against me like I would a child, I gently rock us as a knot takes up residence in my stomach. “In for three…” I suck in a
breath. “One…two…three…”
She gasps.
“And out for three. One. Two. Three.”
I repeat the steps for I don’t know how long. Eventually, her breathing slows, and even her uncontrollable trembling eases.
I’m not sure how long we sit together. Me holding her while she crumbles. Trying so desperately not to ask her what’s going on. When I peek over my shoulder into the house, both kids have turned to watch us. They look stressed too, and I try to give them a reassuring smile, but it comes out as an anxiety-riddled grimace.
Eventually, Skylar lets out an exhausted sigh. I turn back to her, stroking
her hair.
And then she talks.
“Those naked photos I sent to you? They’re all over the internet.”
Her voice breaks on the word internet.
And my heart shatters for her in that instant.