26. Skylar
Chapter 26
Skylar
T he spray of the shower pelts against my skin, a rhythmic drumming that matches the chaos still swirling in my mind. I stand there longer than I should, letting the steam cloud my thoughts. Today’s the day.
Well, today’s the day I finally figured things out. So, in that sense, today’s a pretty monumental day. But more than anything, today is the day I’m going to tell them how I feel.
I shut off the water, the sudden silence almost deafening. Wrapping myself in a towel, I avoid the mirror. I don’t need a reminder of the uncertainty dogging me by looking at my worried reflection. My hair sticks to my shoulders, still wet as I head back to my room, my heart racing in time with my footsteps.
I shuffle through my wardrobe, pulling out a sweater and jeans—a simple choice, nothing too fussy. It’s just an outfit, but today it feels like armor, like something I can hide behind while I find the words I need to say.
I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself. The kids are still sleeping, and I know I need to move fast if I want to talk to the men before they leave for work. This is my moment. There’s no turning back now.
I'm not going to let myself hide anymore. I want to write a new story—with them.
As I dress, the silence of the house presses in on me. The kids, bless their unpredictable sleeping patterns, have been granting me these small pockets of quiet in the mornings. I'll take it as a sign, a sliver of opportunity to say what needs to be said without the distraction of their youthful curiosity.
A glance at the clock warns me that time is slipping away. If I'm going to catch Cohen, Austin, and Theo before they scatter to their respective corners of the world—or, y’know, the office they share—I need to move. Now. I swipe a hand through my hair, giving up on taming down the damp waves. Let them think I'm not put together. Maybe it'll soften them up for the onslaught of confessions.
My bare feet pad across the cool hardwood floor, carrying me toward the kitchen where morning light spills through the windows, casting the room in a gentle glow. The scent of coffee lingers in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of toasted bread. Someone is awake. That’s a good sign.
"Today’s the day," I whisper to myself, a mantra to bolster my courage. "You can do this."
My heart hammers a frantic beat as I make my way down the hallway. This is it. I'm about to lay everything bare—the fears, the desires, the stubborn pride that's kept me from admitting how deeply they’ve burrowed into my life.
"Morning," I greet them, forcing a smile onto my face as I find all three of them gathered around the kitchen island. They're a striking trio: Cohen’s slightly scruffy appearance belies the stormy thoughts behind his ocean-colored eyes; Austin’s suit is the armor of a man who's built walls so high he might not see over them himself; Theo leans against the counter, casual but alert, his light brown curls refusing to be tamed.
Their heads turn in unison, weary gazes meeting mine. Despite the early hour, the weight of the world already seems to rest on their shoulders.
"Hey, Skylar," Cohen greets, his voice tinged with the fatigue that comes from juggling too much alone.
"Can we talk? Just for a minute before you all head out," I say, trying not to let my voice waver. There's no hiding the seriousness of my request, the way my hands unconsciously fiddle with the edge of my sweater.
Austin raises an eyebrow, his calculated stance unwavering. "Of course. Is everything all right?"
"Everything's...it will be," I manage, my heart pounding a rhythm that threatens to break free from my chest.
Theo pushes off from the counter, his stubbled jaw set in a line that tells me he's bracing for whatever comes next. "We're listening, Skylark."
I stand there, anxiety making my hands shake and my thoughts scatter. My fingers are twisting and untwisting around each other. The silence stretches—a rubber band pulled taut, ready to snap.
"Sky?" Theo prompts, his voice gentle, as if he senses the turmoil beneath my cool exterior.
"Right," I breathe out, steadying myself. I force my hands to stillness, to let go of the fabric of my sweater, and instead, they find each other, clasping in a bid for strength. They've been patient with me—God, so patient—and it's time I match their courage with my own.
The next words slip out before I can censor them, raw and trembling. "I love you."
It's as if I've dropped a crystal glass, the silence shattering around us. Their expressions are frozen, caught between disbelief and hope. And I'm stunned too because those three words were not part of my planned speech.
But now they hang in the air, stubborn and defiant, a truth I can no longer contain. The confession reverberates in the quiet kitchen, echoing off stainless steel appliances and marble countertops.
"Sky..." Cohen starts, but I hold up a hand, needing to push through the barrier I've just broken.
"No, let me finish," I insist, my voice finding strength as I face the enormity of what I've just revealed. "This isn't how I expected it to come out, but it's out there now. And it's real." My gaze flits from one to the other, locking onto eyes filled with questions and, perhaps, the dawning of understanding.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself against the kitchen island. The cool marble beneath my fingertips grounds me, its smooth surface a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions inside me.
"I'm sorry," I begin, my voice soft yet clear, each word carrying weight. "For how I've been lately—distant, evasive. It wasn't fair to any of you." My eyes drift to the floor, but I force them back up, needing to see their reactions. "It wasn't about you. It was me...all me."
Theo leans against the counter, his green eyes searching mine with an intensity that makes my heart flutter. Cohen's brow is furrowed, his hand absentmindedly stroking his stubbled jaw. And Austin, he just watches, silent and thoughtful, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Here's the thing," I continue, the words spilling from me like a river breaking through a dam. "I want you, all of you." I pause, letting the magnitude of my admission sink in for them—and for myself.
My fingers twist together nervously as I press on. "And I hope you're okay with that because I can't choose. I don't want to choose." Their gazes never waver, and something unspoken passes between us, a flicker of surprise, maybe even relief.
"What I feel for each of you..." I struggle to find words that can encompass the complex tapestry of my emotions—past hurts, present desires, future dreams. "It's unique, real, and it's worth pursuing. Worth fighting for." I lock eyes with each man in turn, silently pleading for understanding, for acceptance.
The room is heavy with our collective breaths, the only sound in the silence that stretches out, taut like a wire. I watch them closely, waiting for some kind of verdict, some clue to what they're thinking. The vulnerability I've laid bare feels like a tightrope beneath my feet, and I'm poised at the center, unsure if I'll find solid ground on the other side.
"Trouble," Austin finally breaks the silence, his voice gruff but not unkind. "That's a lot to take in."
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I know."
But there's no going back now. I've peeled back the curtain on my heart, showing them the chaos and longing hidden within. It's out there, raw and exposed—the most honest part of me, hopeful and trembling, waiting for them to reach out and take it.
The air shifts, a current of decision and raw emotion as Theo takes a purposeful step toward me. His green eyes pierce through the space between us, fierce and unyielding like storm-tossed waves crashing against a rocky shore. He's always had this gravity about him, an intensity that pulls you in and holds you captive without even trying.
I felt it the moment I first met him. I felt it even as he walked away, my heart trailing behind him, helpless—like a moon tethered to its planet, unable to break free.
But, I…I don’t think he’s going to walk away this time.
"Skylark," he murmurs, and the sound of my name falls from his lips like a whispered vow, heavy with meaning I’ve never heard before. "I can't live with the thought of losing you again." His voice trembles slightly, each word sinking deep into me, carving itself into my heart.
"I never stopped loving you, Sky," he continues, his gaze locked with mine, raw and open. "I always hoped—prayed, really—that we'd find our way back. But I was too scared to come looking for you." His breath hitches, his hands slide to my face, cupping it gently, as if afraid I’ll disappear. "Then fate intervened, and you were right here, right next door. I couldn't believe it."
I shudder at his words, and for a heartbeat, the world feels like it’s just us, bound by the weight of our past and the promises of a future we’re still too scared to reach for.
Theo leans in, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that starts soft, tentative—like he's not sure if I’m real or if this is all just some fragile dream. But then I kiss him back, and it becomes something more, something certain.
"I should have fought for you," he murmurs against my lips, the words breaking free with an intensity I can feel in my bones. "I didn't, and it's the one thing I will always regret. But I'm here now, Sky. To fight for what we have. For you. And I'm not leaving. Not this time. Ever. You are my past and you are my future. I love you so fucking much. Thank you for giving me another chance. I promise…I promise you. I will not fuck this up."
He steps back, his hand lingering on my jaw before he turns and looks at the brothers pointedly. Before the resonance of his words fades, Cohen steps closer, his presence a steady anchor.
His hair falls into his eyes, darkening their usual spark, replacing the playful gleam with something deeper—something raw. He doesn't mask his vulnerability, not now, not with so much at stake.
"Sky," Cohen’s voice is quieter now, each word wrapped in a quiet urgency. "I’ve been just as scared as you, maybe even more. Terrified, really. Terrified of being left behind again, of you slipping through my fingers like you did once before." His chest rises with a shaky breath, and for the first time, I see the weight of the fear he’s been carrying. "Of you never forgiving me for not recognizing you. So, yeah, I pulled away, too. I shut down because I couldn’t face the thought of someone walking away from me again—of you walking away from me. But I’m done with that. Done with letting fear decide everything for me."
His eyes find mine, locking on with an intensity that matches Theo’s, and his next words hit me like a punch to the gut. "You’ve got my heart. All of it. And I’m not going anywhere. Not ever. I’m here, and I’m not letting you go. Not without a fight."
His admission tumbles over me, warming places long chilled by doubt and loneliness. The walls I've built tremble under the weight of their confessions, bricks of fear and self-preservation dislodged by the sincerity in their eyes, the resolve in their stance.
I absorb their words, let them sink beneath my skin and fill the spaces they've claimed inside me.
It’s Austin’s turn now.
At first, I’m afraid he’s going to walk away again. But he surprises me, stepping forward with that controlled grace he carries everywhere—the boardroom, the bedroom, and now, here, in this space where vulnerability is the currency.
Austin expression is unreadable. His blue eyes, often ice-like in their stoicism, flicker with an intensity that’s both disarming and achingly familiar. The morning light catches the faint freckles on his nose, reminding me there's softness beneath his armor.
He came to me the other night. He told me how he felt more or less. But I still don’t know what he’s going to say.
"Trouble," he starts, his voice gruff yet threaded with an unexpected tenderness. "I've built walls so high I never thought anyone could scale them." He hesitates for a fraction of a second, then continues, "You've turned my world upside down, made me question everything I thought I knew about...this." He gestures vaguely between us, encompassing Theo and Cohen in the sweep of his hand.
"Never imagined feeling like this for someone. Let alone sharing..." His jaw tightens momentarily, a telltale sign of the internal war he wages. "But what we have—what we could have together—it's worth it. Worth the chaos, the unknown. Worth breaking every damn rule I've ever made." There's a rawness to his confession that strikes a chord deep within me.
My heart swells, pressing against my ribs as if it's trying to reach out to each of them. The icy walls around it crack, fissures spreading until they shatter completely. In this moment, I see myself through their eyes—not as the untouchable Skylar Deveraux, but as someone worthy of love, of being fought for, of belonging.
“I love you, too.”
They stand before me—and I realize, with a clarity that steals my breath, that they want me just as fiercely as I want them.
Family. The word blossoms in my mind, filling me with a warmth I've long denied myself. We are more than the sum of our parts; together, we're something indefinable, something whole. They are not just men in my life—they are my stronghold, my sanctuary.
"Thank you," I whisper, my voice steady even as emotion swells within me. "For seeing me, for wanting me." My gaze flits between them, locking onto each set of eyes in turn. "And for giving me a place where I don't have to run anymore."
A quiet breath hangs in the space between us, each of our heartbeats in sync, the silence thick with promises. This is it—the moment where everything that came before us shifts. We’ve built something more than love. We’ve built a future. No longer paralyzed by fear or doubt, I step into it fully, embracing the strength we’ve found in each other.
In the warmth of their arms, the certainty settles inside me. We’re not just surviving anymore. We’re home .