Page 107 of The Best Shot

“Fuck that. Fuck your excuses.” I pushed off the doorframe. My back screamed. “She filed for divorce. She’s done. And after tonight, so am I.”

His face hardened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m done, Shaun. All the way. I’m done looking past shit. Done keeping the peace. Done swallowing the truth so everybody else can stay comfortable. I’m fucking done.”

He made that dismissive sound in the back of his throat. “Stop with all the drama already, Yasmine. Every time you decide somebody needs the truth, I get fucked over. This is the second time you’ve blown up my family.”

“Second time?” My voice rose, and I let it. “So when Daddy cheated, that was on me. Now you cheat, and that’s on me too?”

“He left because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut⁠—”

“And what’s your excuse?” I laughed bitterly. “Daddy left because he got caught. He left because he was a fucking coward who’d rather run and start fresh than face what he broke. And you’ve spent years making that my fault because it hurt less than admitting your hero was a piece of shit who abandoned his own kids.”

His whole face went tight. “Shut your fucking mouth about him.”

“Get it through your thick skull. He didn’t just leave Mama. He left all of us. He saw a chance at a clean slate and ran straight for it. And look at you—CeeCee’s pregnant with your baby and you’re in my apartment shoving me into walls because you can’t handle that she finally doesn’t want your ass anymore.”

He flinched, and for a second I saw the scared kid underneath, still waiting on the father who’d abandoned.

I aimed for him anyway.

“You want to be him so bad? Congratulations, Shaun. You made it. But don’t worry. When you bail on that child, I’ll be right there to tell him exactly what a piece of shit his daddy is.”

“Fuck you,” he spat.

“Well, fuck you right back.” My voice cracked. “You broke my heart.”

“Then we’re square,” he said.

I felt that one. I hated that I felt it, but I did. “Get out.”

He walked past me without another word. The front door slammed hard enough to shake the walls.

I stood in the hallway, listening to the apartment settle around the space he’d left behind.

The candles were still burning. The steaks sat on the counter. The wine was open, two glasses waiting beside the bottle.

My back throbbed where it had hit the doorframe. When I pressed my hand to it, the pain spread wide and hot beneath my palm.

I didn’t know if I felt lighter or hollow. Maybe those were the same thing.

In the kitchen, I turned off the stove.

The doorbell rang.

I checked the peephole this time.

Hale.

I opened the door.

“Hey, you.” I tried to smile. “You’re early.”

He stepped in and leaned down to kiss me, then stopped when he saw my face. “Darlin’?”

I blinked hard against the sting in my eyes.

“Yasmine. Honey, hey.” His voice changed, going careful. “What happened?”