Slap

Garcia

“What?” Wyatt said, eyes going wide like someone had just rewired his brain.

“I…I think I misheard something,” Eleanor said slowly, eyes narrowing. “Gracia, you just said this bastard is gay. I think what you meant was, he’s a bastard, not—”

“No.” I cut in, my voice bitter. “You heard right.”

I turned to face them fully, shoulders square, voice rising so the entire room could hear if they wanted.

“The man I was supposed to marry in the next few days likes men. And I caught him—” I motioned toward Mark without even looking at him, “with him in bed moaning a lot.”

I heard someone mutter near the back, “Oh fuck. Plot twist.”

Eleanor’s face twisted in outrage. “So you’re telling me,” she said, voice dangerously low, “that Charles lied to you about being straight, and planned to marry you anyway?”

I sighed and nodded. “Yes, he—”

I didn’t even get to finish, because Eleanor was already airborne.

She launched herself across the room with the precision of an Olympic athlete and the rage of a mad woman. Charles yelped, but it was too late. They went down in a blur.

SLAP.

The sound cracked through the boutique.

I gasped. “Eleanor!”

SLAP. SLAP.

“You manipulative piece of shit!” Eleanor yelled between blows. “You lying, gaslighting—”

I rushed forward to try and drag her off, but it was like trying to pull a hurricane off its course.

“Eleanor, stop! Stop!”

I turned to Wyatt, begging for backup, only to freeze. Because he wasn’t pulling Eleanor off.

He turned to Mark, and in the most polite, apologetic tone I’ve ever heard someone use while about to throw hands, he said, “I don’t normally do this, but—”

WHAM.

One punch, clean across the jaw.

Mark stumbled, caught completely off guard. “Ow, what the hell?!”

Wyatt rolled his shoulder like it had been a long time coming. “You deserved that, asshole.”

I stood there, stunned, as the boutique devolved into a two-on-two street brawl between my best friends and my ex-fiancé and his very unfortunate boyfriend.

Okay.

Maybe confronting them here wasn’t the best idea after all.

Shit.

___

The police officer rubbed his temples, looking like he seriously regretted showing up to work today.

“So you’re telling me,” he said slowly, gesturing to the man with the bruised-up face and swollen lip, “this is your fiancé?”

He pointed directly at Charles, who was sitting hunched in the corner of the interrogation room, looking like he’d been hit by karma.

Eleanor slammed her palm on the metal table. “Ex-fiancé!”

Wyatt gently pulled her back down into her seat and gave the officer an apologetic look. “Sorry. Tensions are a little high.”

The officer coughed, already exhausted. “Right. Ex-fiancé.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“And you caught your ex-fiancé just a few days before your wedding….in bed with this man?”

He motioned to Mark, who had an ice pack pressed to the side of his face.

“Yes. That’s correct.”

So now, here we were, in a police station, because, well, Eleanor and Wyatt beat the hell out of Charles and Mark.

And to be honest, I was still recovering from how brutal Wyatt had been. I mean, Eleanor? That was expected. She came out swinging. But Wyatt was a calm, kind, and soft-spoken person.

Mark suddenly stood, voice rising. “I’m not going to let this go! They assaulted us! You’re all going to regret what you did to me!”

Eleanor jumped to her feet. “Try me, you smug, lying bastard. I will cut off your balls and feed them to you like cereal!”

“Sit down!” the officer barked, slapping his file closed. “This is a police station, not a street brawl!”

I grabbed Eleanor’s wrist and whispered, “Sit.”

She grunted but obeyed, collapsing into her chair.

The officer exhaled, clearly reconsidering all his life choices. “Look, I understand where you’re coming from, Miss, but you can’t just attack people. That’s assault.”

Mark crossed his arms smugly. “Exactly. Thank you. It is assault—”

“Keep quiet, sir,” the officer snapped, turning a tired glare on him.

Mark snapped his mouth shut. Then the officer turned to Charles. “Sir, do you want to press charges?”

Charles looked up at me. I kept my expression flat.He stared for a moment longer before dropping his gaze.

“No,” he said finally. “This was just a misunderstanding between me and my fiancée.”

Fiancée?

God, why couldn’t he get it? Why couldn’t he see that this was done? That I wanted nothing more to do with him?

I looked away, clenching my fists in my lap. Because if I didn’t, I might be the next one to throw a punch.

Eleanor opened her mouth, ready to unleash one final verbal grenade, but Wyatt gently clamped a hand over it with a nervous chuckle.

The officer gave him a flat look. I stood up and smoothed my dress.

“If there’s nothing else,” I said quietly, “can we go?”

The officer looked me over for a moment, and nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Just try to stay out of trouble with your friends, okay?”

“Gracia, I—” Charles started, but I interrupted him.

“Let's not see each other again.” I said walking out.

Wyatt grabbed Eleanor’s arm before she could add a comment that would make us stay another hour and practically dragged her out of the station.

Outside, I turned to them. “I’m sorry for dragging you both into this—” Before I could finish, Eleanor pulled me into a hug.

I stiffened at first, caught off guard, but then I melted into it.

“I’m so sorry, Gracia,” she murmured. “I know how much you loved that guy. You didn’t deserve this.”

“I’m okay,” I smiled. “Really. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Eleanor stepped back and nodded, though her eyes were still searching mine like she didn’t fully believe me. She’d seen me at my best, and my worst moments.

“You guys get home safe, okay?”

I turned, already pulling my phone out to figure out where I was even going. But before I could take a step, Wyatt’s hand gently closed around my wrist.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Home.”

Eleanor scoffed loudly behind me. “Home? Seriously, Gracia? Do you take us for fools?”

She opened the car door. Wyatt didn’t give me time to object, he gently guided me inside.

“Wait—what are you doing?” I asked, looking between them in surprise.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Eleanor said, slamming the door shut behind me as she got in. “There’s no way I’m letting my best friend sleep on the streets like some tragic heroine from a sad indie film.”

I stared at her. “How do you even know I have nowhere to go?”

She gave me a look. “Because I know your parents. They are monsters, remember? You break things off with Charles and they kick you out. Sounds exactly like something they’d do.”

I looked away. “But—”

“And let’s be honest,” she continued, “you don’t have money yet, and you’re starting your new job tomorrow. So yes, you’re staying with us.”

She wasn’t wrong. I’d just landed my dream job a few days ago, and I was supposed to start tomorrow. I turned to Wyatt for support, hoping he’d at least reconsider. But he just gave me that kind, encouraging look I knew all too well.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” I mumbled.

As if reading my thoughts, Eleanor jumped in, “You won’t be. In fact, this is perfect. We’ve been needing someone to help out with the twins. You’re the perfect person. We trust you, and the kids love you.”

My chest was filled with warmth. So maybe, I wasn’t so unlucky after all.

“Okay, I’ll stay. But only until I’m financially stable enough to move out.”

“Don’t rush,” Eleanor said, grinning. “You’ve got time.”

“Thank you.”

They both smiled and climbed into the front seats.

As the car started and pulled away from the station, I looked out the window. The city looked almost peaceful from here. My eyes drifted shut.

I just wanted to forget it all.