(Serena)My parents sit across from me at the island.It’s the kind of quiet you have before someone says something they’ve been waiting to say for a while, and I’m braced for sparks.“Alright,” I say, folding my arms. “I’m here. Say your truth.”Mom smooths her dress down over her knees, eyes flicking up and away again. Dad looks nervous.Finally, Mom speaks. “We weren’t good back then.”“That’s the understatement of the century. But I get how hard it would’ve been.”“Both our parents were very strict. We didn’t listen. We fooled around and I got pregnant.”“They told us we’d never make it. They told us how hard it would be, and they told us we never got to go back home when shit never worked out,” Dad says.“But we loved each other. We knew better. We’d work hard and everything would be amazing,” Mom continues.“But it was just like they said. It was Hell most of the time. But we ended up pregnant again.”Mom’s tense, but she nods. “We fought. Too much. We drank too much because we
(Serena)I wake up restless.My sheets are twisted, my pillow too hot, my body unwilling to go back to sleep.I get out of bed and pace to the bathroom. Last night keeps looping in my head.James sitting next to me at the club, smiling in that easy way like it was just us again. Before he told the world we were together.The way we teased each other, like before everything went to hell.I laughed with him. Genuinely laughed. And God help me, it felt good.It shouldn’t feel good. It should be a warning siren.I push my hair back and stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.I look the same, but I don’t feel the same.I’m… unsettled. My life is calmer now, freer.I’m not suffocating under the constant drama of being James Hale’s wife. I know that.I’ve been telling myself that for 2 months.But then Savannah opened her mouth last night, and I realized how quickly she can still slice through me.Even without James, even without me tied to Hale life, she still carries a blade sharpen
(Serena)She’s beautiful. The woman he’s with.Haylee clocks the tension in my shoulders before I can smooth it out. “Hey,” she leans in, her voice pitched low over the beat. “You’re fine. Pretend he’s just wallpaper.”“I’m okay, really.”I’ve never seen her before but there would be a reason he is here with her.James doesn’t do random. And he definitely does not do random clubbing.Haylee nudges me under the table. “Don’t.”“I’m not,” I say. My smile stays fixed.Because I’m not. Not really.I feel it, of course I do, but I’m not going to let him, or Savannah, or anyone from my past derail my life again.I just need more emotional distance from it all. That comes with time.I laugh at something Jack says, lift my glass, and clink it against Ben’s, acting like James Hale walking into my Friday night means nothing.On the inside my chest aches. On the outside I’m the picture of calm.Eventually James’ eyes sweep the room and land on me.The recognition is immediate. He tips his chin.
(Serena)“I moved onto things that are mine,” I answer.She smiles like a headline. “Really, Serena? I think I have the better life.”“Then go live it.” I give her a wave off.But she doesn’t leave.“I am,” she says brightly. “Right here. At the Hale table. With the CEO, Nico Morel-Hale. Of course, you noticed we’re an item.”I didn’t give her the satisfaction of an eye roll. “I noticed you don’t have an engagement ring on your finger, still.”“Neither do you.”“Of course not. My finger is still marked from my wedding set from James.” Honestly, I know I shouldn’t.But I’m so over taking the high road with her ridiculous attitude.“James is happy. He’s been dating. In case you were wondering.”“Same. And I wasn’t.”She laughs. “It kills you that I’m here on Nico’s arm. Still accepted and loved in the Hale circles, doesn’t it?”“It doesn’t kill me,” I said flat. “I just feel sorry for you.”“Still, James never chose you in the end, did he?”“He did choose me. More than once. He lost me
(Serena)Eight Weeks LaterI wake before the alarm and check my calendar while the coffee drips.A bakery check-in, a call with Sabine about a Paris photo shoot, and the Hearts for Tomorrow dinner tonight.Two months have gone fast. The crisis days are over.Life feels normal… full, structured, mine.James crosses my mind less and less. If he does, it’s a passing thought that doesn’t derail the day.By eight I’m in the car, windows up against the heat, voice notes running.Update the wholesale pie schedule.Confirm the Dulce de Leche supplier.Ask legal about the new pop-up terms.Ask Haylee what color she’s wearing and time details for tonight’s event.Okay, the last one I can do now.She replies with a selfie of a black dress and a time stamp: doors at six, donor cocktails at six thirty, dinner at seven.The back door of the bakery sticks in the heat.Inside, ovens blast, timers beep, the morning rush hums.Jules spots me first and lifts a tray above his head like a trophy. “Look at
(Serena)The slam of the door should be more satisfying.For a long moment I just stand there, staring at it, breathing hard, trying to steady myself.The house is quiet now. Too quiet after the chaos of the night.First the party… the music, the laughter, the flash of neon.Then James, storming in. And then what I just let happen.My legs are trembling. My body is overheated, restless, still burning from his hands and his mouth.My lips are swollen, my dress half twisted, and my thighs ache in that familiar way that used to mean I’d lost myself in him.And I did.I try to tell myself it was different because I was the one in control.I set the rules. I told him how it was going to happen and he obeyed.That’s true. But it doesn’t erase the fact that I let him in at all.That I wanted it. That I couldn’t stop myself when he touched me.I walk into the living room, still unsettled.The neon signs glare back at me like a reminder of the show I’ve been putting on.JUST SERENA. MRS. NO MO