Raf
She keeps her head down. Doesn’t want to see Shane, and definitely not Wendy. Not like this.
She doesn’t stop. Crosses the courtyard, every step forward is a small act of control. By the time she reaches Alexander’s door, she doesn’t even knock. Just lets herself in.
In his office, he looks up, already waiting. “Tell me what happened,” he says as she steps inside.
Raf sinks into the chair, folding her arms. “Well,” she begins, “I kissed him. Shane. After weeks of trying not to, I finally did it. And then—”
She leans back, gaze drifting upward, as if looking away from the memory. “Wendy walked in. Saw everything. Lost her mind. Ripped down the wallpaper we’d just finished hanging.”
“I’m sorry, Raf. That must’ve been… destabilizing.”
“It was a mess. Maybe Shane didn’t mean to hurt anyone, but that doesn’t make it okay. He was careless with Wendy and with me.”
“That wasn’t carelessness, Raf. That was manipulation. Men like Shane? They know how to triangulate. They keep women on the hook by making them think they’re the ones who got it wrong.”
She flinches, just slightly. Then shakes her head. “That’s not him.”
“Isn’t it? You saw Wendy fall apart. And here you are, trying to make sense of the wreckage. But Shane? Shane walks away untouched.”
He pauses, sharpening his words. “You know, Raf, I’ve been hesitant to make this offer, but… if you ever wanted to even the score…” A slow, knowing smile teases its way across his lips. “I could help.”
She stares at him, barely able to mask the revulsion creeping across her face. “What?”
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“I mean, not literally. Of course. But people like Shane… and Wendy… they don’t learn unless they feel threatened.”
Alexander studies her, eyes narrowing slightly, measuring how far she’s willing to go. “Just a thought.”
Raf searches his face, as if bracing for the answer she doesn’t want. Is he saying what I think he is?
“I think you’re kidding,” she says, wariness creeping into her voice. “But it’s making me nervous.”
“Relax. It was just a joke.”
“It’s not funny, Alexander.”
He glances at the time. His expression tightens, just enough to betray him. Raf catches it: the clock pulling him away, the calculation behind the quiet.
“Well. Looks like our time is up.”
By the time she crosses the courtyard, she’s still replaying Alexander’s strange little joke, if it was a joke, when the wrought-iron gates creak open ahead.
Fuck my life.
Wendy strolls under the archway. Raf checks out the look: Balmain blazer over a cropped white polo, pencil skirt vacuum-sealed to her hips, Alaïa heels doing too much work, buckling slightly as they lift her up.
This bitch is too much.
Wendy sees her. Stops short. “Well, well, Raf. Still slumming it with your therapist? He must have his work cut out for him. Must be hard juggling that with all the homewrecking. Or were you hoping Shane might catch you begging for scraps? Hate to break it to you, he’s done.”
Behind them, the pool glints, then dulls as a cloud passes overhead. Raf rolls her eyes. Almost smirks. “Is that supposed to scare me, Wendy?”
“This is just the warm-up. You really thought you could fuck someone else’s man and walk away clean? Cute, but deeply pathetic.”
Raf folds her arms slowly, like she’s giving Wendy time to hear how ridiculous she sounds. “Desperate talk coming from the woman he didn’t choose.”
“At least I don’t trade throw pillows for pillow talk. Must be nice getting paid in orgasms. Tell me, do you give a ginger discount, or did Shane pay full price?”
Raf takes a step forward, not aggressive, just enough to close the space. Behind them, the pool shimmers, catching the sunlight again.
“You know what really sets us apart, Wendy? I don’t tear other women down to feel taller. And I don’t humiliate myself chasing a man who’s already moved on.”
Wendy doesn’t hesitate. The slap cracks the silence, echoing in the open air. Raf’s head snaps to the side. She blinks once, jaw tightening against the sting, even as a grin curls across her lips. Then she turns back, steady.
“Careful, Wendy. If hitting people kept Shane around… he wouldn’t already be gone.”
Raf turns. Doesn’t bother to see the look on Wendy’s face. Just steps past her and walks away, past the pool, through the gate, then gone, under the archway.