Page 19 of Before Dawn

Then she leaned forward, her voice low, but the anger now unmistakable. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with that, but let’s forget about Joshua. If you don’t want to send him explicit pictures, then don’t. No means no, and if he can’t respect that, he’s a piece of shit.”

I clenched my fists under the table, nails pressing into my palms. My chest felt too tight, like my ribs were caging in something I couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just disappointment—it was grief.

Azzaria’s voice softened, but it held an edge of steel. “And if he ever makes you feel like your worth is tied to whether or not you send him pictures, then he’s even worse than I thought.”

I nodded, biting my cheek to stay composed. “It’s just very disappointing.” My voice cracked, and I hated how weak it sounded, how vulnerable I felt.

“Five years down the drain, you know?”

I sighed.

Five years of love, loyalty, waiting for him to treat me like I mattered. Five years of thinking I was building something real, only to realize I was the only one putting in the effort.

“I get it,” she said softly, sliding her glass of alcohol toward me. “But look at it this way—you’re basically done with him. We’re going to make the most of our time here before you leave. We’ll document everything, find you a great man. Not a boy—a man.”

A small laugh broke through my lips.

“And most importantly,” she continued, a smirk playing at her lips, “you’ll discover who you are and realize how incredible you are, with or without anyone.”

I exhaled, the tightness in my chest loosening ever so slightly. Maybe she was right. Maybe, for the first time in years, I had the chance to finally be me.

And maybe that was worth more than any relationship ever could be.

“Are we really?” I asked, doubt clinging to my words like smoke.

“Yes, we are,” Azzaria declared, her confidence so unwavering, so genuine, that for a moment, I wanted to believe her. “Nobody messes with my best friend and gets away with it. You deserve the sun, the moon, and the fucking stars, Abigail.”

A small smile tugged at my lips, gratitude unfurling in my chest. “Are we going to find you a man too?” I teased, my voice lighter now, even though the ache still lingered beneath the surface.

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

And then I froze.

The faintest hint of fresh wood, warm ambergris, and spicy cedarwood curled into my lungs, rich and familiar. My skin prickled, as if someone had whispered my name in the dark.

It was him.

“The special for Mr. Xander and Suarez, please,” a deep, velvety voice spoke, smooth yet rugged, laced with an accent that sent a shiver down my spine.

I turned slowly, my pulse thrumming wildly.

Mikkel.

His honey-brown eyes locked onto mine, and in an instant, the noise of the bar faded into a dull hum, the world dimming at the edges. Thatgrin—equal parts mischievous and devastating—spread across his face, knocking the air straight out of my lungs.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he greeted, his voice low and warm, like a secret meant only for me.

Heat flooded my cheeks. I felt them flush, a shade so bright it could rival the setting sun. My lips parted, but for the first time in a long time, words failed me. He was standing here—again—like some sort of cosmic joke. Or maybe… fate.

Before I could lose myself completely, I noticed Azzaria.

Her head was down on the table, her entire posture screaming:don’t look at me. My brows furrowed as my gaze followed hers.

A man. Staring at her from across the bar.

Not just a man. Her boss.

What the fuck?

---