Rose stared at the velvet box Henry had thrown onto the coffee table. The symbol of Skylar’s future, the dream they used to giggle about during girls’ nights, now sat discarded like it had never meant anything at all.
A sick satisfaction curled in her chest. Skylar had finally broken it off. She had walked away from Henry. That meant the stage was open—for her.
But even as Rose’s lips stretched into a smile, her stomach twisted.
She knew Skylar.
She had known her too long, too closely, too intimately as a friend to ever underestimate her. Skylar wasn’t the type to simply accept humiliation. Not when her pride, her future, her very heart had been shredded in public view. Rose’s instincts screamed that this wasn’t the end. This was only the beginning.
Henry, however, was pacing like a c
