Semua Bab I Want A Divorce: Bab 191 - Bab 200

SERAThe media storm takes three days to calm down. Three days of statements and interviews and lawyers managing the fallout. When I finally get a break in the tour schedule and come home, all I want is to collapse on my couch and not talk to anyone for a week.My phone buzzes against the kitchen counter where I'm standing with leftover takeout I can't bring myself to eat.Cathy's name lights up the screen.(Girls' night at your place tomorrow? No drama. No men. Just us.) I set down my fork, wiping my hands on a dish towel while I consider. The idea of hosting people makes my skin itch, but there's something appealing about "no drama, no men."Me: (Who's "us"?) Cathy: (You, me, Luna, Monica is a freaking legend and if things aren't too awkward maybe you should invite her too. And your really cute friend, Heather.) My eyebrows rise. I text Heather, half expecting her to be busy. She responds in seconds with three exclamation points and a gif of someone doing a victory dance.Then I

SERAMy parent's house sits at the end of a tree-lined street, the kind of neighborhood where kids ride bikes and people actually know their neighbors' names.It wasn't where I expected the Smiths would choose to build their family home yet somehow, now knowing Monica and Steve more, it felt just like them. I pull up to the curb the morning after I'd helped Cathy with house hunting, with Luna bouncing in her seat, her overnight bag already clutched in her lap."Can I ring the doorbell?" she asks before I've even turned off the engine, the excitement that radiates off her unfortunately isn't contagious enough to stop my spiraling mind. My stomach twists. "Sure, baby."She's out of the car before I finish unbuckling, racing up the walkway with her bag bouncing against her legs. I follow slower, my fingers curling and uncurling at my sides.Monica opens the door and Luna throws herself forward, wrapping both arms around Monica's waist. The sight makes my throat tighten, watching my da

SERAA tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it. I swipe at it roughly with the back of my hand but another follows, then another, hot tracks running down my face that I can't seem to control.Darius moves before I can tell him I'm fine. He crosses the space between us in one fluid motion and pulls me into his arms. His voice breaks when he speaks, rough and raw against my hair."I'm so sorry. God, Sera, I'm so sorry."I shake my head against his chest, my hands fisting in his shirt. The fabric is soft under my fingers, worn cotton that smells like his Cologne. And him. "It's not your fault." My voice comes out thick, muffled. "None of it is your fault."His arms tighten around me, one hand coming up to cradle the back of my head. His chest is solid and warm beneath my cheek. I can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, grounding me when everything else feels like it's spinning out of control."Your father and grandfather were monsters," I whisper into his shirt. "But you're not

SERAMy suitcase sits half-packed on my bed when my phone rings. Monica's name lights up the screen."Hey," I answer, wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear while I fold another shirt."Sera, sweetheart, are you still home?" Her voice sounds lighter than usual, almost buoyant. "Do you have time for coffee?"I glance at my flight itinerary on the dresser. Three hours until I need to leave for the airport. The tour resumes tomorrow in Chicago then Vegas, and I should be finishing packing, double-checking my schedule, mentally preparing.But Cathy left that morning, taking Luna with her for the week. The apartment has felt too quiet ever since, the silence pressing against my ears in that familiar way that reminds me of how much I hate being alone. "I have coffee," I say, abandoning the shirt. "Come over."She arrives twenty minutes later carrying a bakery box that smells like cinnamon and butter. When I open the door, the difference in her strikes me immediately. Her shoulders a

SERAThe sound check is going well until Vince, the sound engineer, gives me that look again. The one where his eyes linger a beat too long before he remembers professionalism and glances away. He's harmless—he does it from way over there at his board, never crosses any lines—but it makes me shift my position on stage nonetheless."Can we run the second movement again?" I call out, adjusting my earpiece.My phone buzzes in my pocket. I hold up a finger at Vince and pull it out.Luna's face fills my screen on a video call, and I feel myself smile automatically before I even answer.But when her face loads properly, my smile falters.Luna looks worried. Brows furrowed, bottom lip caught between her teeth in that way she does when she's trying not to cry. It's so unlike her usual sunshine expression that my stomach drops immediately."Baby, what's wrong?""Nothing's wrong." She says it too quickly, eyes darting sideways. "I just wanted to talk to you.""Luna." My voice is gentle but firm