20. Reece
Reece
T he door clicks shut behind her, and the silence is deafening.
Archer stares at me like he’s trying to rewire reality. Like if he blinks enough times, the image of Skye in nothing but lingerie and thigh-high boots on my lap will disappear from his memory.
“What the fuck,” he finally says, voice low and lethal. “What the actual fuck, Dad.”
I say nothing. Because there’s no version of this that doesn’t end with someone gutted.
“You and Skye?” he breathes. “Are you kidding me right now?”
“It wasn’t planned,” I say, jaw tight. “It just happened.”
He lets out a hollow, humorless laugh. “What—like you tripped and fell into her after a decade of fatherly disapproval?”
“It’s not like that.”
“No?” He tilts his head. “Then explain it to me. Because I’ve been gone, what, four weeks? Five? And I come back to find you dry humping my ex-girlfriend in your living room?”
“You haven’t been together in years,” I snap.
His face twists. “And that makes it okay?”
“I’m not asking for your blessing, Archer. I’m telling you the truth.”
“No, you’re not.” His voice rises. “You’re telling me the part you couldn’t hide anymore. So tell me the rest. Tell me how long it’s been going on.”
I exhale slowly. “A few weeks.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “And before that? What, you were just sitting around thinking about her like a sick fuck?”
“I didn’t even see her again until the night we ran into each other at the bar.”
His eyes narrow. “What bar?”
“Some dive bar off Lincoln I stumbled into one night.”
His head jerks back. “She was there?”
“She walked in with a friend. We talked. Caught up. That’s all it was.”
He’s quiet a second too long. “So you saw her and what—just decided to pick up where I left off?”
“I didn’t go looking for this. She applied for the assistant role.”
His mouth falls open. “You hired her?”
“She needed a job. I needed someone I could trust. It was supposed to be temporary.”
“And you never thought to mention that to me?”
“Why would I?”
“Because it ’ s Skye !” he yells. “She was my girlfriend for three fucking years!”
“And she’s not anymore,” I bite out. “She hasn’t been for a long time.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point, Archer? That she was yours once and now she’s mine?”
He stares at me like I just kicked his dog.
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” I say quickly.
“No, I think you did,” he says. “I think you’ve been telling yourself this story for weeks now, trying to make it something noble instead of what it is.”
“And what’s that?”
He steps forward, venom in his eyes. “It’s betrayal. It’s fucked. It’s you , screwing around with a girl you watched grow up in our house.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No?” he seethes. “You want to talk about fair? Because she trusted you. And I—God, I trusted you.”
“I didn’t take advantage of her.”
“Maybe not at first,” he says. “But you sure as hell let her fall for you without a single thought about what that would mean.”
“I didn’t ask her to fall for me.”
“But you let her.”
And just like that, we’re both quiet again.
He breathes hard through his nose. His hands curl into fists at his sides.
“I thought you were better than this,” he says. “But you’re just a man who couldn’t keep his hands off someone you had no business looking at.”
He turns toward the door.
“Archer—”
“Don’t.”
He walks out. And I let him. Because chasing him now won’t fix a damn thing. The second the door shuts behind him, the silence claws its way into my chest.
“Fuck!”
I brace my hands on the back of the couch, head bowed, every muscle in my body taut like I’ve just gone ten rounds in a cage fight.
And lost. Not because I touched her. Because I let her walk out that door like she meant nothing.
I don’t even know who I’m more ashamed for—me, for saying nothing… or Skye, for believing I ever would.
I sink onto the couch and rake both hands through my hair. And Archer… God, the look on his face. I’ve seen him heartbroken before. But tonight was different. This was betrayal. Not from some girl who changed her mind. From me.
I never planned to hurt him. And I sure as hell never wanted to hurt her. But I managed to do both in less than sixty seconds. Because I didn’t speak. Because I stood there like a fucking coward while she scrambled for her coat and Archer threw words like daggers.
I sit back, staring up at the ceiling like it holds the answers I can’t find in my own chest.
Skye didn’t deserve to be humiliated like that. Not by me. Not by him. And especially not by the silence that met her when she looked at me, pleading without saying a word. But I couldn’t stop it.
The moment Archer walked in, everything cracked open. Every repressed fear, every boundary I crossed, every rule I broke… it all came rushing back. And the worst part? She looked at me like she wanted me to fight for her. And I didn’t move.
Didn’t say a word to defend her. Didn’t call after her. I just watched her go.
Because I didn’t know how to be a father and a man in love with the girl I wasn’t supposed to touch. I still don’t. I press the heels of my hands to my eyes.
She gave me everything. Her trust, her body, her secrets, and I repaid her with shame. No amount of justifying changes that. No timeline. No job offer. No but we didn’t mean for it to happen . It happened. And now it’s unraveling faster than I can hold it together.
I don’t know how long I sit there. I should get up. Turn off the lights. Shut it all down. But I can’t move. Because all I can hear is Archer’s voice.
You should ’ ve told me. You let her fall for you. You let her walk out like that.
And he’s right. He’s fucking right.
I let my son walk out that door thinking I’m the kind of man who takes what he wants and lets the rest burn. I watched Skye leave without pulling her back. And now all I’m left with is the charred wreckage of something that felt like it could’ve been real.
I dig my hands into my hair, elbows braced on my knees, and sit there, drowning in it. The guilt. The shame. The impossible fucking truth: I can’t lose either of them.
I can’t lose Archer. He’s the one person I’ve tried to keep safe my entire life. Every decision I’ve made, every sacrifice, was to protect him, give him better than I had. I fought so hard to win him back, to make things right for my absence after his mother died.
And I can’t lose her. Because when I’m near her, I feel something I haven’t felt in decades. Like maybe I could be whole again. Like maybe I’m not past saving.
But I am the one who set fire to this. I’m the one who opened the door and invited the fallout inside. So now I have to pick a side. And the thought alone splits me in two.
I stand up slowly and walk to the window. The city glows below me. The skyline stretches for miles, endless and cold, like it knows exactly what I’ve done. I pull out my phone. Her contact is already open.
I stare at it for a long time. I think about texting her something meaningful.
Something apologetic. Something that will explain why I stood there and said nothing while she pulled her coat shut with shaking hands.
But I don’t know how to explain the kind of fear that chokes you silent.
The kind that makes you watch someone you care about fall apart and still not move a muscle.
So I send her the only thing I know how to say right now.
Me: You don ’ t have to finish out the contract. I ’ ll pay you through the end.
I watch the message send. Delivered. No read receipt. No typing bubbles. No reply. I set the phone down, chest hollow. That was it. That was the moment. And I let it slip through my hands. Skye is gone. Archer is gone. And I did it to both of them.
I sink back onto the couch, elbows on my knees, and press my fingertips to my temples.
I’ve built a billion-dollar empire. Closed billion-dollar deals. Recovered from loss and grief and failure. But nothing has ever leveled me like this. And I don’t know if I can ever fix it.