Page 21 of Keeping Skylar (Fractured Hearts #1)

Skylar

Today’s the day. The day of the big move.

My bedroom looks as though it’s just been ransacked by a gang of thieves, with items scattered across every surface. We spent most of the morning trying to cram as many items as possible into suitcases and storage containers. I’ve probably packed enough bags to start my very own thrift store.

After playing Tetris with the bags and containers, we managed to fit all my belongings into my medium-sized SUV, with a little room to spare. It was a huge effort, but we finally got there.

We’ve been packing since eight this morning, and now it’s just past noon.

The growling in our stomachs is a clear reminder that it’s been hours since we last ate—and that it’s probably time for a break.

So, we all agree to stop and quickly grab a bite to eat.

Besides, all that’s left now is to clean up the trail of mess we’ve left around the house.

I had no choice but to call in sick this morning so I could pack and move while Kaden was at the office.

It was now or never. By Monday, the school will have received my resignation in their inbox, and I’ll be already settled into a hotel in Melbourne.

Just the thought of it brings a wave of excitement through me.

We dig into the sandwiches and fruit platter I prepared earlier, fuelling up for the final hour of cleaning ahead.

As we sit around the dining table eating, I turn to my girls and grin, my smile conveying how deeply grateful I am for both of them. “Thank you so much for your help, ladies. I don’t think I could’ve done this all on my own. It means the world to me.”

“Of course, honey. You should know us by now. We’ll drop everything to come help you,” Kirstin assures me.

Mila sets her sandwich on her plate and places her hand over mine.

“I still can’t believe you’re leaving. I’m feeling a mix of emotions right now.

I’m excited that you’re finally pursuing your freedom and happiness, but I’m also sad that you won’t be just around the corner anymore,” she says, her eyes welling with unshed tears.

“Oh, Mila, please don’t cry. I might not be in the same city—or even the same state, but I promise, if you ever need me, I’ll be on the first flight back.” I thread my fingers through hers, offering her a warm smile.

“And besides, Milz,” Kirstin interjects, “I’m only a phone call away if you ever want to chat or get blind drunk again.”

Mila chuckles softly and then dabs her cheeks with a paper towel.

“Now, I feel like I’m going to miss out on all the fun.” I pout.

“You’ll be here in spirit, my friend.” Kirstin winks.

We spend the next fifteen minutes finishing our meals and going over everything I need to take care of once I cross the Victorian border.

Since it’s a ten-hour drive from Sydney to Melbourne, I decided to book a hotel for the first leg of the trip.

I could probably power through the whole drive with a few short breaks in between—but let’s be honest, a girl needs her beauty sleep.

After our meal, we dive straight into tidying up, making sure not a single item in the house is out of place. I’ve cleared out my side of the closet, emptied every drawer, shelf, and the shoe rack. Everything else—I’m leaving behind without another thought.

While vacuuming the bedroom floor, a message alert from my phone on the bedside table quickly catches my attention. I glance at the screen and see it’s a text from Kaden. I let out a long sigh before picking it up and reading his message.

Kaden: Hi, baby. How are you feeling today?

Me: Like I need a whole year to recover.

Kaden: Lol. That’ll teach you not to drink so much.

Kaden: Just checking in to see if you need me to bring you anything after work?

Me: I wouldn’t mind some wonton soup, if it’s not too much trouble.

Kaden: No trouble at all. From Chan’s Palace?

Me: Actually, I’m kind of craving the one from Little Phoenix.

Kaden: Baby, that’s like a half hour drive, possibly more during peak hour.

And that’s exactly the point , I think with a quiet laugh. Why not make him work for it, one last time, right?

Me: I know. I’m sorry. Their soups just taste better. Pretty please?

Kaden: Fine. But you’re making it up to me tonight. The things I do for you.

Right! How can I forget the shit you’ve done for me.

Me: Thank you!

Kaden: I better get back to work. Call or text me if you need anything else. Love you xo

Me: : )

Kirstin stands before me now, her gaze curious and questioning. “What’s the smirk for?” she asks.

“Just putting Kaden to work, that’s all,” I reply with a mischievous grin.

She shakes her head and chuckles. “Alright, well. Everything looks to be done.”

I examine the room, and sure enough, it looks spotless. I set the vacuum back on its charger and smooth out the bedsheets one last time. “Okay, there’s only one thing left to do,” I tell her. “Do you have them?”

She nods and walks over to her laptop bag resting on top of the dresser. Pulling out a manila folder from the bag, she hands them to me just as Mila walks into the room and approaches us.

I inspect the items in my hands, pleased that everything is there. Grinning widely, I turn to my two best friends. “Okay, now for my final gift to Kaden.”

Kaden

Well, that was a fucking nightmare.

I just spent one and a half hours stuck in traffic because she had to have wonton soup from Little Phoenix. This soup better be Michelin-star worthy if it’s to make up for the time I wasted battling Sydney’s horrid gridlock!

I’m finally home, and I’ve never been happier to see the inside of my own house. I wasn’t surprised when Sky texted me this morning to say she’ll be home all day nursing a serious hangover. That girl does not handle her liquor very well.

She stayed over at Kirstin’s last night, and while I’d usually be annoyed about that, it gave Lucia and me a little more time together.

We passed out on the couch after hours of passionate sex in my study and living room.

It was wild, incredible, and though I’m feeling tired and sore today, was worth every risk.

She left a little after midnight, and I’m happy to say that we’re back on track in our relationship.

I place the soup container down on the kitchen counter and quickly head into the garage. Slipping the burner phone out from my pocket, I shoot Lucia a final text for the day.

Me: Hey, beautiful. I just got home. Just wanted to say that I haven’t stopped thinking about last night. It was wild and I can’t wait to do it all again with you.

Lucy: Me too! My body is already missing yours.

Me: Soon, baby. I promise. I can still smell your delicious scent lingering in the house.

Lucy: Good. That’s just me, marking my territory.

Me: No need, baby. I’m already yours. Anyway, I better go and check on Sky. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you xo

Lucy: I love you, too xoxox

I tuck my phone back inside the top box of my motorbike and make my way to the bedroom.

Once I’m outside the bedroom door, I quietly turn the knob, careful not to disturb my wife in case she’s sleeping.

As the door creaks open, I’m immediately struck by the darkness and silence in the room—there’s not a single sound or movement.

Something’s not right. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach.

I cross the threshold and flick on the light, only to freeze as my gaze lands on the empty bed—Skylar’s not here. My eyes scan the room, taking in the spotless surroundings. Everything is unnervingly tidy, the bed undisturbed, as if she never came home at all.

Where the hell is she?

Then, something catches my eye—a single manila folder, neatly placed on the pillow, with a gold star-bow glued to the top like some twisted gift. My pulse quickens as I step closer. I pick the folder up with trembling hands, and the moment I open it, the contents nearly bring me to my knees.

Oh my God! How? How did she get these?

My lungs close in and my stomach twists as I clutch the folder filled with photographic evidence of my affair—screenshot after screenshot of every message Lucia and I ever exchanged, printed in crisp, high-resolution for anyone to see.

Panic sets in as I pull out and inspect each sheet of paper from the thick pile—my fingers shuffling through them in a frenzy.

Fuck! She knows! She knows everything!

I drop the folder onto the bed, a few sheets fluttering to the floor like falling leaves, and bolt to the bathroom. My stomach lurches as I barely make it to the toilet in time before throwing up. I flush, then slump to the floor, my back pressed against the cold porcelain bathtub.

“Skylar,” I whisper into the air. “Please forgive me.” I remain still with my eyes closed for several minutes, my body too paralysed by fear, shock, and the crushing weight of guilt to move.

When I finally stagger to my feet, something inside me snaps into gear. I burst out of the bathroom and into the walk-in closet—only to stop dead in my tracks. No. Half of it is empty. Her side. All of Sky’s clothes, bags and shoes are missing.

I rush to the dresser next and frantically open each drawer. Empty. Every single one. Not a single scrap of clothing left behind. I tear through the shelves and every drawer in the room, but it’s all been cleared out. She’s gone. My wife is gone. She’s left me.

No! This can’t be happening!

I rip my phone out from the pocket of my pants and dial her number. After a few rings, it goes straight to voicemail. I call her another five more times. Nothing. Only the sound of her voicemail. So, I quickly send her a text.

Me: Skylar! What the fuck! Where are you?

Minutes go by, still no reply. I send her another.

Me: Baby, please. Pick up your phone! We need to talk about this. I can explain everything. Please come home!

Again, no reply.