Trixy's Pov
The room was still; the only noise was the guitar and the soft blend of two voices.
Each step I took rang out in me like a drum, making me stop at the bottom of the stage steps. Zyron sat there with his guitar, head down a bit, as if the notes still danced on his tips. Savannah was by him, all peace and a warm smile that should have eased me.
But it cut me deep.
Their voices met like they were meant to be, filling up the room that used to be just for him and me. They looked so right together.
I almost walked away for a moment. Pretended I didn't see, didn't hear. Yet, the hurt in me drove me on.
My voice cut through the quiet, firmer than I thought: "Can we talk?"
Zyron looked up, puzzled. About what?
I glanced away, my throat tight. "Not you." I looked at Savannah. "Her. I need to talk to her. Alone."
Zyron seemed lost, but Savannah stood up smooth and calm, all her moves just so. She shot Zyron a look, too perfect, then faced me with a smile she'd practiced.
