Mabel
Two days later…
The ice in my strawberry smoothie has melted into pink water.
I stir the straw, watching the last swirl of sweetness fade to nothing. My phone lights up again.
One hour gone. No text. No Luke.
He was supposed to meet me here.
He said he wanted to "explain."
But Luke Robertson doesn't explain. He excuses.
Once upon a time, I used to forgive his lateness — said it was work, traffic, some business call that couldn't wait.
Now, I'm just tired. Of waiting. Of pretending.
I sigh, deep and hollow, the kind that echoes in your chest. The restaurant hums around me — clinking glasses, laughter, a love song dripping from invisible speakers — but it all feels far away.
"Where are you?" I mutter under my breath as I type it into a message and hit the send button.
Ten more minutes, I promise myself.
If he doesn't show up in ten minutes, I'm gone.
Ten minutes pass.
Still nothing.
I motion to the waiter. "Check, please."
My patience's officially dead. I stand up, reach for my purse to pay and a second later, the doors swing open.
There he is.
Luke Robertson — tall, polished, grinning like he just won something. His expensive shoes hit the floor in slow motion, his confidence strutting a few steps ahead of him.
And then I see her.
The girl at his side.
His hand rests on her waist like it's his waist to hold. She's petite, perfect, and painfully familiar. I try to place where I've seen her before and then… it hits me.
Red dress. Botox Barbie.
The girl from the gala.
My chest locks up. The noise in the restaurant dims to static. I sink back into my seat before my knees can give out.
Luke sees me and smiles. Not the smile that used to melt me, a new one. One that is cruel and pitying. He walks right up to my table and pulls out a chair for her. For her.
I stare at the scene like it's happening on a screen. The way he brushes her hair. The way she giggles. The way the world tilts off its axis.
I don't want to believe what my instincts are telling me. My hands curl into fists so tight that my nails dig into my palm before I force myself to unclench them.
"What the heck is going on here, Luke? I demand, trying to sound calm enough not to draw attention.
Luke, now seated, doesn't answer. Instead, he glances at her. "Cassie," he says, voice smooth as glass. "Meet Mabel. The one I told you about."
Cassie — the girl whose name I've just learned but who seems to have known mine for a while — smiles smugly, eyes glinting with victory. "Hi, Mabel." She extends a manicured hand and I look at it like it's contagious.
My eyes cut back to Luke. "Care to explain why you kept me waiting for over an hour," I say, my words trembling but dangerous. "only to stroll in here with… this?" My eyes flick to Cassie.
Luke exhales, sounding annoyed. "What's there to explain? You're not stupid. You can see what's happening."
My breath hitches. This tone — this strange tone — I've never heard it from him before. This isn't my Luke. My Luke was gentle. Charming. Loving.
"What's wrong?" I whisper, reaching out to hold his arm. "You're… different."
He laughs. Cassie joins in — a shrill, dying-seal sound that scrapes my nerves. Then he shoves my hand off his arm like it's nothing.
"What's wrong is you, Mabel. I'm done. I'm done with your drama."
The air leaves my lungs. My face drains of color at his words. I barely recover before Cassie jumps in.
She slides closer to him, fingers intertwining with his like she's sealing the deal. "Let me explain for him," she purrs. "Girl to girl."
Luke leans back lazily in his chair, amused, as Cassie continues, "Babes, I'm not sorry to break it to you, but Luke's with me now. In fact, he's been with me for the last six months. We only kept it a secret because I wasn't ready to go public yet." Her voice drips with mock sympathy. "But now I am, and I just wanted to let you know — you're a thing of the past. But don't worry, I'll take care of him. I'll do all the things you couldn't."
I blink once. Twice. Then laugh. A sharp, humorless sound. "You're kidding. Luke — tell me she's lying."
He straightens up. "What did you expect, Mabel? Two years together, and you wouldn't even let me touch you."
"I told you I wasn't ready," I say, my voice cracking.
He smirks. "And I found someone who was."
Cassie lets out that awful dying-seal laugh again. Luke's words sting like a slap. I can't believe this.
Luke — my perfect, charming boyfriend — has been cheating on me all along. To say my heart's broken would be an understatement. It feels like knives dipped in salt are slicing through my chest. My stomach flips. Tears prick at my eyes, but I bite my lip hard enough to stop them.
I clench my fists beneath the table, gazing at the two people in front of me — my so-called boyfriend and his smug little upgrade. My mind reels back to the beginning of our relationship. I was forced to date Luke for my father's political alliance, but I'd fallen for him. Foolishly.
But I'll be damned if they see me cry.
My mother once told me never to let people see me break. And I won't.
So I laugh.
It starts as a small giggle, then grows into a loud, wild laugh that draws stares from nearby tables. Luke's smirk falters.
When I finally stop, I wipe the corner of my eyes and say, "I know you too well, Luke Robertson. I saw through your lies. I figured if I didn't give in to your demands, you'd dump me eventually. That's why I came prepared."
The lie rolls smoothly off my tongue.
"Prepared?" Luke frowns. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," I say sweetly, "you're not the only one who knows how to cheat. I did too."
Cassie's laughter bursts out again. Luke joins her.
"You?" he scoffs. "Mabel, you wouldn't even kiss a man without moral approval. You're too good for that."
"Don't listen to her, babe," Cassie chimes in. "She's just trying to save face. Poor thing!"
I tilt my head. "You don't believe me?"
Cassie leans forward, chin lifted. "Then prove it."
"I will," I say, feigning confidence. "I actually invited my boyfriend here. He should be walking in any minute."
Cassie smirks. "Sure he should."
But I'm not listening. My eyes are on the door. My pulse is a drumbeat in my chest.
Please, universe. Just one miracle. Just give someone convincing.
And as if the universe heard me, the doors opens.
And in walks a tall man in a black tailored suit. Dark hair. Cold blue eyes that could command a room without saying a word. He's the kind of man who looks like sin wrapped in tailored Italian suits.
And then…
I recognize him — the "Uber driver" from that night.
And I swear, the world slows again.
He's not my savior, not my friend — just the right man at the right (horribly wrong) time.
My lips curl into a slow, wicked smile. I stand, smooth my dress, and walk toward him before I can change my mind.
"Hi, baby," I say softly, slipping my hand through his arm.
He stops dead, his gaze locking onto mine. It's that same look — unreadable, intense.
"I believe you have the wrong person," he says, voice low and velvet-smooth.
"I know," I whisper back quickly. "I'll explain later. Please. Just… play along."
"Miss, this is highly inappropriate—" the bespectacled man beside him starts, but I cut him off.
"Please," I say again, quieter. "Help me. Just like last time."
He tries to pull away, but I don't let him. I drag him toward Luke and Cassie, who both look stunned.
"Babe," I say in a honeyed voice, "meet Luke. The ex I told you about."
The Uber driver says nothing, but his presence alone changes the air. Even silence sounds like power when it comes from him.
Cassie blinks, then laughs nervously. "There's no way he's your boyfriend. Look at him — he's out of your league."
I tilt my head, smiling. "Jealous? You should be. He's hotter, smarter, and unlike Luke, doesn't reek of ego."
Luke's jaw tightens. "Drop the act, Mabel. We know he's not your boyfriend."
I shrug. "Want me to prove it?"
Cassie smirks. "Please do."
Luke leans forward, arms crossed. "Yeah. Prove it."
I hold their gaze, heartbeat pounding. "What do you want me to do? Kiss him?"
Cassie grins like a cat. "Exactly. Kiss him, Mabel. I dare you."
I freeze. My stomach twists. This is getting out of hand. I turn to the stranger. He's watching me calmly, one eyebrow slightly raised, as if testing me. My heart races.
I can't. I shouldn't.
But then Luke laughs — that cruel, condescending laugh that used to charm me. "Go on. Or admit you're lying."
Cassie echoes him. "She won't. She's too pure."
That does it. Something inside me shatters. My pride and the humiliation I'm suffering from these two all fuse together into a reckless defiance.
I mouth, "I'm sorry" to the stranger. Then step closer. My hand trembles as it finds his jaw — firm, warm and still.
And before I can talk myself out of it, I press my lips to his.
The world stops.
No noise. No motions. It's just me and him.
For a heartbeat, he doesn't move. Then, without warning, his hand slides to my waist — pulling me closer — and he kisses me back.
Not softly. Not gently. But in a deep, electrifying way that steals the air from my lungs and burns through my veins.
Every insult I've condone, every ounce of pain I've felt since Luke walked into this restaurant, vanishes in that kiss.
The restaurant fades away. Luke and Cassie disappear. It's just the two of us — strangers, locked in a reckless moment that tastes like revenge and danger.
And maybe… just maybe… I don't want it to stop.