“Don't look at me like that,” I tell my favorite cactus, giving it water. “I've been busy.”

My phone buzzes.

Serena:

Still alive? Starting to think you've been abducted by very attractive aliens.

I check the time—barely ten. The night stretches ahead, too quiet after the controlled chaos of Bennett's presence. Without overthinking it, I hit call.

“She lives!” Serena shouts in lieu of greeting. “I was about to file a missing persons report.”

“Want to grab a drink?” I ask. “I'm suddenly free.”

“On a weekday? Who are you and what have you done with workaholic Layla?”

“I'll explain over wine. Our usual place?”

“Give me twenty minutes. I'll see if Audrey can escape the lab.”

I change into jeans and a sweater, something that doesn't smell like Bennett's cologne. The effort feels like putting on armor. Like I’m bracing for questions I don’t want to answer… or ones I finally need to.

LAYLA

Lockwood is quieter than usual, just a handful of couples and late-night business meetings. Audrey and Serena have claimed our favorite corner booth and ordered a bottle of red.

“Finally!” Serena waves me over. “Audrey's been annoyingly vague about why you've gone MIA.”

Audrey gives me a look that clearly saysI kept my mouth shut.

“Spill,” Serena demands the moment I sit. “And don't give me the sanitized version.”

I glance at Audrey, who nods encouragingly. Time to rip off the Band-Aid. “I've been with Bennett Mercer.”

Serena's wine erupts like Mount Vesuvius—a crimson geyser that paints abstract art across the white tablecloth. She flails for napkins while making sounds like a drowning seal, knocking over the saltshaker in the process. The couple at the next table inches away like we're contagious.

“With MERCER?” she finally gasps, dabbing at her chin. “As in the billionaire? The corporate shark? The?—”

“Yes, that Mercer,” I interject, trying to maintain a modicum of dignity as Audrey hands Serena another napkin.

“But how? When? What does this even mean?” Her eyes shine with excitement and disbelief.

“It's complicated and we're still figuring it out,” I admit, not wanting to dive too deeply into the chaos yet. “Just… this week has been a lot. My father threw a public fit at the integration meeting, and?—”

“He called her a whore in front of everyone,” Audrey says, her voice steady but low.

Serena gasps again, cheeks flushed. “Whoa. Whoa. Back the fuck up. He called you what?”

My stomach twists at the memory, and I take a deep breath before continuing. “He was upset about the acquisition, and when I stood up for myself?—”

“Which you did,” Audrey interjects, her eyes fierce. “You handled it with grace.”

“Thanks,” I say, forcing a smile. “But it just escalated from there. And I ended up walking out of the meeting.”

“Which is when Bennett told everyone to leave and then tore her dad a new butthole.”

Serena gasps. “Oh my god. What? Why hasn't anyone told me this?”

“Personally, I've been…processing,” I say, taking a sip of my wine. Serena just swings her eyes to Audrey.