Janet

I used the key Gil had made for me and let myself into his apartment.

"Yaaaas, bitch—the queen has arrived, honey!"

Music blasted through the place. I laughed as Gil and Shawn both looked over, grabbed my hands, and pulled me into the middle of the living room. We danced around, carefree, and for a moment I almost forgot everything else.

It didn't take long for Shawn to notice.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, studying my face. "You look like you've been crying."

Gil stopped dancing and took a closer look at me.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Come on."

We headed upstairs to the bedroom and sat down to talk.

"What happened, Dunk?" Gil asked, his voice dropping as he reached for my hand. The moment he touched me, I broke down.

Shawn looked at me with so much concern in her eyes. I felt guilty—she didn't know anything about my history with my husband. I couldn't bring myself to speak right away.

Shawn stood up. "I'm gonna head downstairs so you guys can talk," she said, turning toward the door.

"No—Shawn," I said quickly, holding my hand out to her. "Will you please stay with me?"

She didn't hesitate. She took my hand and sat closer, letting me rest my head on her shoulder for a moment.

"René sent a car for me today," I said quietly.

Gil stiffened at the sound of his name. Shawn's eyes moved between us, confused but alert.

"We've been kind of on and off for a few years now," I continued. "I've actually been staying with Gil for the past few weeks."

"Did he hurt you again?" Gil blurted out.

I shot him a sharp look. He knew I didn't want anyone else to know. But it was too late.

Shawn's face hardened, fury flashing in her eyes as tears welled up.

I stood, turned my back to them, and slowly lifted my shirt.

Shawn gasped.

I caught her reflection in the mirror as she stepped closer, placing her hands gently on my side. She closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks, and pressed her lips softly against the bruising on my shoulder.

Gil was crying now too.

"I'm so sorry he did this to you," Shawn whispered.

I turned and wrapped my arms around her neck, burying my face into her shoulder as I cried. Gil stood behind me, pulling us both into a tight embrace.

⸻

Shawn

Seeing the bruises on her body made something inside me snap. My blood boiled. No woman deserved that—especially not her. Not J.

I tried to stay strong, but the more she cried, the more Gil and I did too. All I wanted was to hold her and keep her safe forever.

"Hey," I said softly. "I've got you, J. Gil and I—we both got you, okay? We won't let him hurt you again."

She looked at me, uncertain.

"He says he's sorry," she said quietly. "That he's trying to work on it."

Gil scoffed, throwing his hands up.

"Gil, he's seeing a therapist," she said quickly. "He's trying to get his anger and drinking under control."

I couldn't believe it. She was defending him.

"He's said that the last three times, Janet. Three," Gil snapped, holding up his fingers.

"Gil, please," she begged.

"No," he said, voice shaking. "This shit is crazy. I can't keep watching him do this to you."

He turned to me.

"You remember when she missed rehearsal for our SNL performance last year? He bruised her neck so badly makeup couldn't cover it. Or when she said she was too sick to go on the kids' trip? He slammed her into the bedpost—nearly broke two of her ribs. She could barely walk for weeks."

"Gil, please!" Janet shouted.

The room went silent. I'd never heard her raise her voice like that before.

"You know I told you that in confidence," she said, her voice breaking. "Why would you do that?"

He looked at her, pain written all over his face.

"Because you won't listen to me, Dunk," he said quietly. "I don't know why—but you won't. Maybe it's time someone else tried to get through to you."

He grabbed his cigarettes and stepped out onto the balcony, slamming the door behind him.

Fuck.

I didn't even know where to begin processing all of this.

Janet sat down on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap, eyes fixed on the floor as tears fell freely.

"Hey," I said gently, kneeling in front of her. "Don't be mad at him. Gil loves you. He's scared for you. It hurts watching someone you love go through this."

"I know," she said softly. "I just... René is my husband." She wiped her face with her sleeve. "Sometimes he reminds me of Joseph."

"Have you talked to your mom about it?" I asked.

"I tried—without going into too much detail," she said. "She keeps telling me how my father used to be, how he changed with time. She tells me to be patient. To give René a chance to learn how to love me the right way."

I swallowed hard. "Is that what you want, J?"

She looked at me, eyes raw and honest.

"I don't know. He's hurt me so many times. I'm so scared of him, Shawn."

"You're safe here," I said firmly. "There's nothing to be afraid of here. We're going to get you cleaned up, feeling good. And we're going to have a good time tonight."

I held her gaze for a moment.

God, she was beautiful—even like this. Especially like this. And my heart ached with the need to protect her at all costs.