Page 49 of Downfall

Meaning he’s not going to just let this go. He’s going to find some way to fuck this up for me. Little does he know that I don’t need his help. I’m doing a fantastic job fucking it up all on my own.

“Declan?” a sleepy voice calls from the stairs. “Who was that?”

Skylar’s wearing her usual long T-shirt, her red hair splayed in loose waves around her shoulders.

“My dad.”

“Oh,” she says, and I don’t elaborate. I told myself I’d be as honest with her as I can, but if this is going to work, I need to keep her in the dark a little longer. One thing is certain, I will never let him have a cent of her money or go anywhere near her father’s company even if I have to destroy myself in the process.

“Was he here about work?”

“No,” I say honestly. “I don’t work for him anymore.”

“Oh,” she says again, thankfully letting the subject go. “I didn’t I, um…I’m sorry I walked out yesterday.

“Skylar.”

“No, let me get this out.” She chews her bottom lip as she descends the stairs. It’s not until she’s at the landing, standing in front of me, that she releases it. “I hate that you hurt yourself. I hate that I didn’t know all those years. But most of all, I hate that I made it about me.” She swallows. “I’m so sorry.”

I go to respond, to tell her she has nothing to be sorry for, that she’s in trouble for even saying that forbidden word, but she rushes her next words out before I get the chance. “Anyway, everything has been so heavy these past few days. I was thinking, what if we had a dinner party? I’ve been wanting to try cooking again and I’m sure Allie would give me some recipes. We could have the girls and their significant others, of course. Maybe even your sister if she’s free? I’d love to see her again and⁠—”

“That sounds perfect,” I tell her before she continues to spiral.

Her eyes light up. “Really?”

“Let me know what you need and I’ll have it delivered.”

“Okay.” She turns toward the kitchen. “Oh, and this isn’t like a married couple situation or anything. It’s just a gathering of friends.”

I nod. “Got it.”

As she disappears around the corner, it dawns on me that I will give her anything she wants, even if it’s still a divorce at the end of this. It will kill me, but I’ll do it. Because I know now that I’m not my father. He and I have never been the same, and we never will be. I’m older, stronger, have better resources, and I will do everything in my power to protect her from him.

21

DECLAN

A week later, I watch as Skylar scurries around the dining room, making sure everything is just right. She prepared all week for this dinner party, which has taken the pressure off dealing with whatever the fuck happened between us last weekend. She’s actually been pleasant. I drive her to and from work, and she tells me about her day. She orders dinner, and I set the table. It almost—almost—feels like we’re in a real marriage, except when we go our separate ways at the end of the night. That’s when, in the dark of my room, I stroke myself to the thought of her, wet and needy, aching for me as much as I ache for her. I think about her in her room doing the same, touching herself to the memories. We haven’t talked about what happened in my room the night I brought her home from the bar, or the kiss in the shower, and there hasn't been a repeat of either.

“Declan.” She sounds panicky as she bounces over to me. “We’re short a fork.”

I walk over to the kitchen island where there is a lone fork sitting on the counter and hand it to her. She relaxes. “Oh. I must have left one when I grabbed the bunch that was there.” She shakes her head, adding the fork to the last place setting. When she’s satisfied with the table, she heads back into the kitchen. She’s been mixing, sautéing, and baking for hours. I have no idea what she’s making, but if the intermittent burning smell is any indication, it doesn’t seem like it’s going well. I tried to sneak in a few times to fix whatever was going wrong, but she caught me and shooed me out every time.

The doorbell rings and Skylar jumps. “I got it,” I tell her. “Relax. It’s going to be fine.”

She takes a deep breath, nodding, and I head to the front door. It’s probably Allie and Ash or Luke and Emory. It’s definitely not my sister because she shows up at least half an hour late to everything. But no, I’m not that lucky, because standing in front of me is Nate Caldwell in all his tall, brooding glory. He’s holding a bottle of wine and looking irritated.

“No plus one?” I ask. “Still can’t get them to stick around, huh?”

I’m not exactly sure where my animosity toward Nate comes from. Maybe it’s some deep-seated jealousy that his father actually loves and trusts him or some shit.

He shoves the bottle against my chest. “Nah, I heard your sister was coming, so I thought I’d keep my options open.”

Before I have time to respond, he pushes past me into the house. I tell myself he’s just trying to get back at me for my comment in the car last weekend, but I swear to fuck if he even thinks about touching my sister, he won’t live to see the end of this dinner.

Luke and Emory show up next with their son. Apparently their babysitter fell through at the last minute and both sets of parents are out of town. Allie and Ashton come right after, and Ash immediately steals Rowan right out from Emory’s arms. Like the goofy motherfucker he is, he moves Rowan’s hands, pretending to tell Allie he wants a baby cousin. As predicted, my sister arrives almost an hour late.

“Sorry, sorry!” she chirps as she waltzes into my house without knocking. “My roommate caught her boyfriend with her sorority sister and she was obviously having a major meltdown, so I had to be there for her.”