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"Who the hell was that Casanova?" Jackson slurred with his Dom still twirling in his hand.

Sarah didn't skip a beat. "That's Jude! Oh my God, Elle!" Her wide-eyed incredulous stare made me feel guilty. "They have history, like major history."

Jackson rolled his eyes. "We've gathered that much, Sarah."

"No, you don't understand." She looked over at me before continuing. "He's like her Achilles' heel. She's never been able to resist him. He's her addiction, or at least he used to be."

Barrett, remember Barrett. I love Barrett, I told myself, reaching for my freshly poured champagne.

Jackson and Finn stared at me, waiting for an explanation.

I rolled my eyes dramatically and took a deep breath.

46

Five years ago

I was sitting on my couch listening to Spotify in my favorite pair of boxers that Jude had left behind and an old Nike sports bra. It was a tough day at the office dealing with my self-serving and oily coworker Chris Johnson. No matter the conversation, he always left me feeling manipulated and uneasy. As the song changed on my playlist, my phone started ringing. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was my grandmother's neighbor, Suzanne.

This is weird, I thought as I answered the phone. "Hello, this is Elle."

All I heard were tears. She couldn't get anything but my choked name across her lips.

"Whoa, Suzanne, what's wrong? What happened?" I could feel it in my gut. This was going to be awful.

"Elle, Elle, we've lost her." Her voice was cracked and muffled.

"Wait, what?" I said.Who was her?"What the hell do you mean, 'We lost her'?" Adrenaline pulsed in my body and my head turned heavy. Dread was creeping through my thoughts.

"I went to check on her this morning--you know, the chemo was tough for her--and when I knocked, no one answered, and--"

I cut her off. "What chemo?" I shouted. "Who are you talking about, Suzanne!"

"You know, the chemo for her cancer." Her words were laced with confusion.

"Suzanne!" My head throbbed.

"Oh dear, you didn't know she was undergoing chemo?" Her shocked tone struck a chord.

"No," I growled.

"Oh, honey, Di had stage four breast cancer. She's been doing chemo for about three weeks. I'd take her to the infusions and assist at home since I was a nurse."

My ears rang. My heart passed the point of repair and crumbled in my chest.

"I can't believe she didn't tell you she was sick. She talked to you all the time." An awkward pause followed for only a few moments before she continued. "It was aggressive, dear. I'm so sorry you had to find out this way. She should have told you. I thought she told you. I'm so sorry, Elle. So, so sorry." Suzanne was sobbing on the other end of the line.

I couldn't yell. I couldn't fight.

"She's gone?" My voice wavered and my body went numb.

"Yes, dear." It was difficult to hear her through her sobs. I didn't cry. I wasn't allowed to cry yet. I felt my fight-or-flight kick in, and I knew I had to get to my grandmother. I had to take care of her arrangements. I had to start the process of getting her safely next to Grandpa. I couldn't really grieve yet. I had to take care of business.

"She went peacefully in her sleep, from what the paramedics said." Suzanne's delicate voice broke through my thoughts.

"I'll be there tonight," I replied with firm confidence.

After I hung up with Suzanne, I called the one person whose heart I'd shattered, seeking solace while selfishly hoping he'd help me put my broken heart back together.