I Gave Him Six Years. I Won’t Give Him One More Chance.

Nobody at table six moved.

Lila's fork lay on the china between the shrimp and the lemon. The judge stared at it. Marcus stared at me. I stared at the little silver cup of cocktail sauce like it might explain itself.

*The one who doesn't eat seafood is Lila.*

Lila laughed first. It came out high and bright.

"Oh my gosh, she's right. That's me. I'm the shellfish disaster." She picked up her fork and waved it. "Sterling's so sweet, he's always ordering for me. He must've gotten us mixed up in his head. Men, right? They never remember who likes what."

The judge's wife chuckled politely.

Lila kept going. "Honestly, Elowen, I should thank you. He'd have let me eat one just to prove a point."

Her voice had never bothered me before. Three months of dinners and gallery openings, and it had always been easy to listen to. Light. Smooth.

Tonight it sounded like a spoon scraping a plate.

"Lila," I said.

"Yes?"

"You can stop."

Her smile wobbled. She set the fork down very carefully and reached for her wine.

Elowen didn't watch any of it. She was already asking Kian something about the Monet print, her chin propped on one hand.

---

The main course was beef tenderloin. I barely tasted it.

My eyes kept drifting right.

Six years of dinners like this one, and Elowen had always worked the table like a quiet second host. My glass never went empty. She'd catch the waiter's eye before I noticed I was thirsty. When some board member started in on my father's old company, she'd lean in and ask about his grandkids, and the conversation would bend away from me like water around a rock.

I used to think she just liked being busy.

Tonight my glass sat empty for twenty minutes.

Across the table, the judge's wife said, "Sterling, didn't your father's firm go under the same year as the Delancey merger? Such a shame."

I waited.

Elowen laughed at something Kian whispered and didn't turn her head.

"Yes," I said. "It did."

"Such a shame," the woman said again.

I pushed back my chair and stood. Nobody stopped me. Lila glanced up, then down again. Marcus raised his eyebrows.

Elowen kept talking about brushstrokes.

I walked all the way to the bar and back to the hallway, and when I passed our table again, she was laughing, her fingers tapping Kian's sleeve. She hadn't noticed I was gone.

---

Kian's phone buzzed during dessert. He checked the screen and grimaced.

"Lab in Geneva," he told her. "Two minutes."

"Go."

He kissed her temple and slipped out through the side doors.

Four minutes later, Elowen folded her napkin and walked toward the terrace.

I followed.

The night air was cold enough to bite. She stood at the stone railing with her bare back to the ballroom glass, the harbor lights blinking far below. She heard my steps. She didn't turn.

"Go back inside, Sterling."

"How far has it gone?"

Now she turned. One eyebrow went up. "Excuse me?"

"You and him. How far?"

"That's none of your business."

"It's my business when you parade him in front of everyone we know."

"Everyone *you* know." She folded her arms. "I don't recognize half those people. You never introduced me."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?" Her voice stayed level, almost kind, like she was talking a kid down from a tantrum. "You want details? You want to know if he stays over? If he makes me breakfast?"

My hands curled at my sides. "Does he?"

She smiled. Just slightly.

"Goodnight, Sterling."

She stepped to go around me. I moved into her path, and she stopped a foot away, perfectly calm, waiting for me to finish like I was a red light.

That calm. That was what did it. Not the dress, not the shrimp, not Kian's thumb on her spine. It was the way she looked at me like I couldn't touch her anymore.

The words came out sharp and fast.

"Does he know what you used to do to keep me? Does he know you'd do anything? Begging me not to go on trips. Crying in the closet so I wouldn't hear. Waiting up till three a.m. like a dog by the door." I leaned in. "Does your biotech genius know who he's really taking home?"

The smile left her face.

It didn't crash. It just faded, slowly, the way a light dims when someone turns the switch a notch at a time. Her lips pressed together. Her eyes went somewhere past my shoulder, toward the black water.

She didn't cry.

She didn't say anything at all.

And something cold slid into my gut. I had wanted to see her crack, and now she had, and it felt like I'd stepped on something small and alive.

"Elowen," I said. Quieter now. "I didn't mean—"

The terrace door swung open.

"There you are." Kian walked out, sliding his phone into his jacket. "Geneva says hi. They also say I'm an idiot, so that's—" He stopped. He looked at her face. Then at mine.

His voice dropped. "What happened?"

I waited for her to tell him. To repeat every word and let him swing at me.

She didn't explain. She didn't even glance my way.

She just crossed the space between them and slid her hand into his. Her fingers laced through his like they'd done it a hundred times.

"Take me home," she said.

Kian studied her for a second. Then he nodded. "Car's out front."

They turned toward the door.

"Elowen, wait." I reached for her arm.

She twisted aside before my fingers landed, smooth and quick, and my hand closed on cold air.

Then she rose up on her toes, right there in front of me, and pressed her lips to Kian's cheek.

"I want to stay with you a little longer tonight," she murmured.