Part of me wanted to delete the message and forget it ever existed. But another, quieter part—the exhausted, broken part—wondered if maybe, just maybe, we could close this chapter without bitterness. Without hatred.
I went. The restaurant hadn’t changed. Warm wooden booths, soft jazz humming overhead, dim lighting casting shadows across familiar corners. Rosemary scents floated in the air alongside memories I wasn’t sure I wanted back. I watched them laugh, the way we once did, and for a fleeting moment, it almost felt… okay.
Then Nathan’s phone buzzed. He checked it and froze.
“It’s Sabrina,” he muttered, frowning.
“What? Slow down… robbed? Stabbed? Where are you?!” His voice went sharp as he dropped everything.
In seconds, both he and Gabriel were on their feet.
“She’s crying,” Nathan explained, voice tight. “She’s been attacked. We have to go.”
No goodbyes. No glance in my direction. They ran, as if the world depended on her survival.
I stayed seated, staring at the half-eaten food, the flickering candle slowly burning down to nothing. I paid the bill myself.