Janet

Everyone filed into the restaurant and took their seats. Two chairs across from René and me sat empty. I scanned the room, immediately noticing Shawn wasn't there yet.

Tina's phone rang. She stepped outside for a moment, then returned with Shawn and Amelia.

They took their seats.

I forced myself not to stare.

Shawn glanced at me once—maybe twice—but avoided holding my gaze. René's hand rested possessively on my knee beneath the table, his grip tightening whenever he noticed where my attention drifted.

As we ate, separate conversations bloomed around the table. Laughter broke out in pockets, glasses clinked, and for the first time in weeks, it felt almost normal—being surrounded by people I knew and loved.

I glanced at Amelia.

She was beautiful—and she seemed genuinely nice.
So why did I hate her so much?

I caught myself glaring at her every time she so much as looked at Shawn. She didn't seem bothered by me sitting across from them at all. I wasn't a threat to her.

She had what she wanted.
Shit—she had what I wanted.

She smiled at Shawn, lifting her hand to touch her face gently. Shawn looked at her with pure admiration. I looked away, remembering when she used to look at me like that.

I'd completely forgotten René was sitting right beside me.

He was watching everything, drink after drink disappearing until his filter was nonexistent. Gil noticed too—he shot me a warning look. I glanced at René, then down at the plate in front of me.

"So who is this?" René asked, pointing at Amelia but directing the question at Shawn.

Shawn cut her eyes at him.

"I'm just asking," he said, leaning forward. "She's beautiful."

Shawn glared at him, starting to speak, but Amelia touched her shoulder, calming her. She smiled politely at René.

"My name is Amelia. And thanks," she said.

"At least someone at this table has some fucking manners," René muttered, his words slurred.

"Baby, maybe we should get you home," I said, pulling my phone from my purse to call his driver.

"Am I embarrassing you?" he asked loudly, looking around the table.

Every conversation stopped. All eyes were on us.

"Yes—we're ready," I said, hanging up. "Come on, baby. Let's get you home and into bed. You've got that meeting tomorrow, remember?"

He looked at me. "Shit, I do. Alright. I'll call my driver."

"Already did," I said softly. "Let's go get your coat."

I almost had him out of there.

Almost.

"Yeah, take his ass home—fucking drunk," Shawn said loudly.

Amelia glanced at her. The tension snapped tight.

"You got something you wanna say to me, bitch?" René slurred, stepping around the table.

Shawn stood abruptly, grabbing the champagne bottle beside her. Amelia jumped up, trying to hold her back.

"Shawn, baby—please calm down," Amelia pleaded, touching her face. "Let's just leave. Don't entertain him."

But Shawn was already seeing red.

I reached for René's arm. He ripped it from my grip.

Tina's date stepped in front of him, holding him back.

"Bring it on, you fuckin' dyke—carpet-muncher bitch!" René yelled.

"René, please!" I begged.

"Nah, let him go," Shawn snarled. "I'll fuck his pathetic ass up. Alcoholic bitch—come try me, homie!"

"Shawn!" I cried.

Her eyes met mine—and she softened instantly.

"I'm sorry, J."

Amelia looked between us, confused, then reached for me—

René swung.

He barely missed Amelia.

The owner and staff rushed in. Gil grabbed me and pulled me outside while the chaos exploded behind us.

"We have to get you out of here," Gil said. "I already called Preston."

"No," I shook my head. "Tell him not to come. I can't go with him."

"You're telling me what the fuck is going on—right now."

I swallowed hard. "I went to call you that night. I walked into the living room and René was there. Somehow, he'd gotten into Shawn's apartment. He had a gun, Gil."

"Fuck," he whispered, gripping my hand.

"He held it to her head while she slept. He said he'd kill her. I'd never seen that look in his eyes before—I was terrified. I promised I'd go with him if he left her alone." My voice broke. "I couldn't let him hurt her. I love her."

I collapsed into Gil's arms, completely spent. He held me while I fell apart.

Inside, I saw René being dragged toward the doors. I forced myself to breathe.

"I have to go with him, Gil."

"I know," he said softly. "But we're going to fix this. We're getting you out."

"And don't tell Shawn."

"Janet—we have to tell her."

"No," I pleaded. "Let her be happy. Amelia seems good for her. I saw the way Shawn looks at her. I had my chance—and I blew it."

I opened the car door.

Gil and Tina's date walked René out and helped him into the car.

"Dunk!" Gil called, rushing toward me. "Please—come home with me. Don't go with him. I'm afraid he's going to hurt you."

"I'll text you as soon as I get home," I said, touching his face. "But I have to go."

He held my hand tight. I kissed his cheek.

"If you don't text me," he said firmly, "I'm coming over there—and I'm bringing Shawn with me."

I didn't argue. I just nodded and got into the car.