They whispered as I walked past them, their eyes darting away the moment I looked up. I had never felt so naked without taking off a single piece of clothing. James was gone, Brenda in his arms, and all that remained of my composure was a smear of lipstick and the echo of my threat.

I didn’t chase him. I didn’t apologize. I let the pity wash over me like rain, because pity was safer than respect.

“You made quite a scene,” a voice murmured behind me. Darius. I didn’t have to turn to know; his scent always arrived before his hands.

“You said you’d handle Jessica,” I said, still...