Page 86 of Only Be Mine

She wore black, like she was attending a funeral she hadn’t been invited to. Her makeup was perfect. Her eyes dry.

Something in my chest went cold and sharp.

She drifted into the kitchen, picking at a plate of food like this was an inconvenience, like the room was too crowded and the air too thick.

She hadn’t looked at me yet, and something about that felt intentional.

I stood before I realized I’d even moved.

“You,” I said.

The word cracked through the room.

Lindsay turned slowly, one eyebrow lifting. “Me?”

“Yes. You.”

Amy’s hand came up instinctively. “Cate…”

“No.” My voice shook, but it didn’t break. “I’m done being quiet.”

Lindsay crossed her arms, lips pursed. “I’m sorry you’re having a hard time, but this isn’t…”

“This is exactly this.” My chest burned. “You always had to be in everything. Every moment. Every space. You couldn’t stand not being seen.”

She laughed, a short, sharp sound. “That’s rich, coming from the woman who couldn’t even keep him happy enough to come home.”

The room inhaled as one.

Something in me snapped.

I surged forward, my hand tangling in her hair before I even registered the movement. She yelped, grabbing at my wrist as I shoved her backward. A plate shattered on the floor.

“Cate!” Seth shouted.

Lindsay clawed back, nails scraping my arm as we crashed into the counter. She shoved me hard, knocking the breath from my lungs.

“This is why he left!” she yelled. “You’re unhinged!”

I screamed, a sound ripped straight from my chest, and lunged again, slamming her into the wall. Her head hit with a dull thunk.

Baby exploded into motion.

She barreled across the room, barking violently, teeth bared, planting herself between us and snapping toward Lindsay’s legs. Lindsay shrieked, scrambling back.

“Get that dog away from me!”

Baby didn’t move.

She stood rigid, hackles raised, her body vibrating with fury.

“Don’t you dare touch her,” I warned, my voice low and lethal.

“Cate, stop!” Seth said.

Hands grabbed me, pulled me back as I fought, kicking and sobbing and incoherent, rage and grief tangling together until I couldn’t tell one from the other.

Lindsay was crying now, mascara streaking down her cheeks. “You see? You see what she’s like?”